All else was lost in a loathsome, disgusting mass of detestable
decomposition, too utterly vile and foul to describe. On the abnormal
thing beginning to move forward, the spell that bound Mrs. Murphy to
the floor was broken, and, with a cry of horror, she fled to the bed
and awoke her husband.
The head was by this time close to them, and had not Mrs. Murphy
dragged her husband forcibly out of its way, it would have touched
him.
His terror was even greater than hers; but for the moment neither
could speak. They stood clutching one another in an awful silence.
Mrs. Murphy at length gasped out, "Pray, John, pray! Command the thing
in the name of God to depart." Mr. Murphy made a desperate effort to
do so, but not a syllable would come. The head now veered round and
was moving swiftly towards them, its awful stench causing them both to
retch and vomit. Mr. Murphy, seizing his stick, lashed at it with all
his might. The result was one they might well have expected. The stick
met with no resistance, and the head continued to advance. Both Mr.
and Mrs. Murphy then made a frantic attempt to find the door, the head
still pursuing them, and, tripping over something in their wild haste,
fell together on the floor. There was now no hope, the head had caught
them up; it hovered immediately above them, and, descending lower,
lower, and lower, finally passed right through them, through the
floor, and out of sight. It was long ere either of them could
sufficiently recover to stir from the floor, and when they did move,
it was only to totter to their bed, and to lie with the bedclothes
well over their heads, quivering and quaking till the morning.
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