Weird Mask is back and happy to announce that we are accepting submissions once again! We have new submission guidelines that you can take a look at here. One of the big changes is that we are taking stories up to 20k words for our print magazine! There is no… Continue Reading
The Tower of the Elephant By Robert E Howard Chapter 1 Torches flared murkily on the revels in the Maul, where the thieves of the east held carnival by night. In the Maul they could carouse and roar as they liked, for honest people shunned the quarters, and watchmen, well… Continue Reading
CHAPTER I ON THE ARIZONA HILLS I AM a very old man; how old I do not know. Possibly I am a hundred, possibly more; but I cannot tell because I have never aged as other men, nor do I remember any childhood. So far as I can recollect I have… Continue Reading
FOREWORD To the Reader of this Work: In submitting Captain Carter’s strange manuscript to you in book form, I believe that a few words relative to this remarkable personality will be of interest. My first recollection of Captain Carter is of the few months he spent at my father’s home… Continue Reading
In my tortured ears there sounds unceasingly a nightmare whirring and flapping, and a faint, distant baying as of some gigantic hound. It is not dream—it is not, I fear, even madness—for too much has already happened to give me these merciful doubts. St. John is a mangled corpse; I… Continue Reading
The Frost Giants Daughter by Robert E. Howard The clangor of the swords had died away, the shouting of the slaughter was hushed; silence lay on the red-stained snow. The bleak pale sun that glittered so blindingly from the ice-fields and the snow-covered plains struck sheens of silver from rent… Continue Reading
When I drew nigh the nameless city I knew it was accursed. I was travelling in a parched and terrible valley under the moon, and afar I saw it protruding uncannily above the sands as parts of a corpse may protrude from an ill-made grave. Fear spoke from the age-worn… Continue Reading
Nyarlathotep . . . the crawling chaos . . . I am the last . . . I will tell the audient void. . . . I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical… Continue Reading
I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, since by tonight I shall be no more. Penniless, and at the end of my supply of the drug which alone makes life endurable, I can bear the torture no longer; and shall cast myself from this garret window into the… Continue Reading
CHAPTER XXVIII conclusion AT THE sight of Jane Porter, cries of relief and delight broke from every lip, and, as Tarzan’s car stopped beside the other, Professor Porter caught his daughter in his arms. For a moment no one noticed Tarzan, sitting silently in his seat. Clayton was the first… Continue Reading
