The Red Death

The Red Death
The Red Death had killed thousands of people. No disease had

ever been so terrible. There were sharp pains, and sudden
fainting, and heavy bleeding through the skin; death came in half
an hour. Red marks on the body, and especially on the face,
separated the sufferer from all help and sympathy; and as soon as
these signs appeared, all hope was lost.
But Prince Prospero was happy and brave and wise. When half
his people had died, he called together a thousand of his lords
and ladies, all cheerful and in good health, and with these he
went to live in his most distant castle. The immense building, and
its lands, were surrounded by a strong, high wall. This wall had
gates of iron. The lords and their families, having entered, heated
and melted the locks of the gates, and made sure that no key
would ever open them again. The castle, which no one could
now enter or leave, was well provided with food, and safe from
the danger of disease. The world outside could take care of itself.
Inside, it was foolish to worry, or to think. The prince had
planned a life of pleasure. There were actors and musicians, there
were beautiful things, there was wine. All these and safety were
inside. Outside was the Red Death.
The court had been perhaps five or six months at the castle,
and the disease had reached its height beyond the walls, when
Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends at an unusually
grand masked dance.
Seven of the best rooms at the castle were specially arranged
for the dance. These rooms were irregularly placed in one corner
of the building, with sharp turns between them; so that it was
hardly possible to see into more than one at a time. Each of the
rooms was painted and decorated in a different colour, and the
windows were of coloured glass to match the rooms. The room
at the eastern end was coloured in blue — and its windows were
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bright blue. The second room was purple, and here the glass was
purple. The third was all in green, the fourth in yellow, the fifth in
orange, and the sixth in white. The seventh room was completely
black, but its windows were different. They were the only ones
that did not match the colour of the room. The glass here was a
deep red — the colour of blood.
Now there were no lamps or lights inside any of these rooms.
But outside each of the coloured windows, fires had been lit, and
the flames produced strange and beautiful patterns in the rooms.
In the black room, though, the effect of the firelight that shone
through the red glass was terrible in the extreme. Few of the
company were brave enough to enter this room.
In this seventh room, too, a great clock of black wood stood
against the western wall. Whenever the time came for this clock
to strike the hour, it produced a sound which was clear and loud
and deep and very musical, but of such a strange note that the
musicians stopped their playing to listen to it. So the dancing was
interrupted, and there were a few moments of confusion among
the happy company. Then, when the last stroke had ended, a light
laughter broke out. The musicians looked at each other and
smiled at their own foolishness, saying that they would certainly
not allow the striking of the clock to interrupt their music at the
next hour. But sixty minutes later there would be another pause,
and the same discomfort and confusion as before.
In spite of these things, it was a cheerful party. There was
beauty and originality in the dresses of the ladies, and much that
was bright and imaginative in the clothing of the lords, although
there were some who appeared frightening. The masked dancers
moved between the seven rooms like figures in a dream. They
moved in time to the music and changed colour as they passed
from one room into the next. It was noticeable that, as the
evening passed, fewer and fewer went near the seventh room —
the black room, with its blood-red windows.
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At last the great clock in this room began to strike the hour of
midnight. And then the music stopped, as I have said, and the
dancers stood still, and there was a feeling of discomfort among
them all. Before the last of the twelve strokes had sounded, several
of the more thoughtful dancers had noticed in the crowd a
masked figure whom no one had seen before. His appearance
caused first a whisper of surprise, that grew quickly into cries of
fear, of annoyance, of terror.
The figure was tall and thin, and dressed from head to foot in
the wrappings of the grave. The mask which covered his face was
made to look so like that of a skull, that even the closest
examination might not easily have proved it false. But the
company present did not really object to any of this. Their
annoyance and fear came from the fact that the stranger was
dressed as the Red Death. His clothes were spotted with blood -
and across his whole face were the red marks of death.
When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell on this terrible figure
(which walked slowly among the dancers) his face reddened with
anger.
'Who dares,' he demanded loudly of the lords and ladies who
stood near him, 'who dares insult us in this way? Seize him and
tear off the mask — so that we may know whom we have to hang
at sunrise!'
The prince was standing in the eastern or blue room, as he
said these words, with a group of his particular friends by his side.
At first there was a slight movement of this group towards the
strange figure, who, at the moment, was also near; but no one
would put out a hand to seize him. He walked, without anyone
stopping him, past the prince, through the blue room to the
purple - through the purple to the green - through the green to
the yellow — through this again to the orange — and even from
there into the white room, before any firm movement was made
to stop him. Then Prince Prospero, angry and ashamed at his
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own fear, rushed hurriedly through the six rooms, pulling out his
sword as he went. The figure had reached the western wall of the
seventh, the black room, when he turned suddenly towards the
prince. There was a sharp cry and the sword fell to the floor.
Immediately afterwards Prince Prospero fell dead.
Then, with a courage brought on by a sense of hopelessness, a
crowd of the lords threw themselves on the stranger, who stood
silent and still in the shadow of the great black clock. They tore
at the mask of death and the bloody clothing — then stepped
back, trembling with fear. There was no human form or body to
be seen. The mask and the clothes were empty.
And now they knew that they were in the presence of
the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one
by one the dancers dropped and died in those halls of pleasure.
The black clock struck once, and stopped. And the flames of the
fires died out. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death ruled
over all.
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The Red Death

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The Red Death

The Red Death had killed thousands of people. No disease had

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