His fear-glazed eyes took in the tall, vulture-like form—the icy eyes, the long blackfingernails—the moldering garb, hideously ancient—the long spurred boot—the slouch hat with its crumbling feather--the flowing cloak that was falling to shreds. Framed in the black doorway crouched that abhorrent shape out of the past....
Legendary fantasy and horror writer Robert E. Howard... [click here for more]
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