Hell House by Richard Matheson Read Free Book Online Page A

to a private school-he was ten and a half at the time. There, he was abused for a number of years, mostly by one of the homosexual teachers. Belasco later invited the man to visit his house for a week; at the end of that time, the retired teacher went home and hanged himself."
    "What did Belasco look like?" Barrett asked, attempting to guide the course of Fischer's account.
    Fischer stared into his memory. After a while, he began to quote: " 'His teeth are those of a carnivore. When he bares them in a smile, it gives one the impression of an animal snarling. His face is white, for he despises the sun, eschews the out-of-doors. He has astonishingly green eyes, which seem to possess an inner light of their own. His forehead is broad, his hair and short-trimmed beard jet black. Despite his handsomeness, his is a frightening visage, the face of some demon who has taken on a human aspect'"
    "Whose description is that?" asked Barrett.
    "His second wife's. She committed suicide here in 1927."
    "You know that description word for word," said Florence. "You must have read it many times."
    Fischer's smile was somber. "As the Doctor said," he answered, "know thine adversary."
    "Was he tall or short?" asked Barrett.
    "Tall, six-foot-five. 'The Roaring Giant,' he was called."
    Barrett nodded. "Education?"
    "New York. London. Berlin. Paris. Vienna. No specific course of study. Logic, ethics, religion, philosophy."
    "Just enough with which to rationalize his actions, I imagine," Barrett said. "He inherited his money from his father, did he?"
    "Mostly. His mother left him several thousand pounds, but his father left him ten and a half million dollars-his share of the proceeds from the sales of rifles and machine guns."
    "That could have given him a sense of guilt," said Florence.
    "Belasco never felt a twinge of guilt in his life."
    "Which only serves to verify his mental aberration," Barrett said.
    "His mind may have been aberrant, but it was brilliant, too," Fischer went on. "He could master any subject he chose to study. He spoke and read a dozen languages. He was versed in natural and metaphysical philosophy. He'd studied all the religions, cabalist and Rosicrucian doctrines, ancient mysteries. His mind was a storehouse of information, a powerhouse of energy." He paused. " A charnel house of fancies ."
    "Did he ever love a single person in his life?" asked Florence.
    "He didn't believe in love," Fischer answered. "He believed in will. 'That rare vis viva of the self, that magnetism, that most secret and prevailing delectation of the mind: influence.' Unquote. Emeric Belasco, 1913."
    "What did he mean by 'influence'?" asked Barrett.
    "The power of the mind to dominate," Fischer said. "The control of one human being by another. He obviously had the kind of hypnotic personality men like Cagliostro and Rasputin had. Quote: 'No one ever went too close to him, lest his terrible presence overpower and engulf them.' His second wife, again."
    "Did Belasco have any children?" Florence asked.
    "A son, they say. No one's really sure, though."
    "You said the house was built in 1919," Barrett said. "Did the corruption start immediately?"
    "No, it was innocent at first. Haut monde dinner parties. Lavish dances in the ballroom. Soirees. People traveling from all over the country and world to spend a weekend here. Belasco was a perfect host-sophisticated, charming.
    "Then-" He raised his right hand, thumb and index finger almost touching. "In 1920: ' un peu ,' as he referred to it. A soupcon of debasement. The introduction, bit by bit, of open sensuality-first in talk, then in action. Gossip. Court intrigues. Aristocratic machinations. Flowing wine and bedroom-hopping. All of it induced by Belasco and his influences .
    "What he did, in this phase, was create a parallel to eighteenth-century European high society. It would take too long to describe in detail how he did it. It was subtle, though, engineered with great finesse."
    "I presume that the result