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The Fall of the House of Usher

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"Would you have a car to 
drive me to Usher's home tonight?"

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In this derelict manor, Sir Roderick held his
wife Madeline in a strange prison, dominating

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by his tyrannical nervousness.

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"Oh, no! For all the gold of your Lordship I 
will not make a step closer to my horse!"

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The overwhelming melancholy surrounding
Usher seemed supernatural.

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"The medicine"

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The disease of Lady Madeline, wife of Roderick Usher,
had long baffled the skill of her physicians.

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A curious heredity urged each Usher to 
passionately devote himself to painting

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a portrait of his wife.

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"This is where she is alive!"

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"Dear Roderick, you burn with fever!"

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"His Grace is feeling tired and prays that 
you excuse his absence from the table."

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"This is where she is alive!"

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The strange passion to paint
seizes Roderick again.

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He thought only of being alone with
Madeline, his unique model.

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How to dismiss the now unwelcome visitor?

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Twisted as if by a storm, the family tree of 
Usher threatened the last survivor of

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the race, Roderick, with the most fatal genes.

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"Your concern touches me, my only friend.
But take care of yourself as well.

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A short walk will do you good before rest."

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Roderick's brush was like a magic wand.
With each stroke the portrait became

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more lively, but Madeline grew more pale.

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The young woman seemed to give the painted 
image the forces she had lost.

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"In truth, it is life itself!"

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Haunted by all the mysteries, Roderick had 
long meditated the theories of Magnetism.

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"I tell you, Doctor! She can't be dead!"

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"She will not leave me!
We bury her right here!"

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"I forbid..... Do you hear, I 
forbid you to nail it shut.."

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Since the burial of Madeline, hours, days 
passed in a frightening monotony,

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in an overwhelming silence.

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Every nerve tensed, Roderick seems 
to watch some unknown sign.

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The slightest noise exasperates him..........

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Roderick dare not repeat this mad 
force that suffocates him....

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.....Madeline...

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The night promised to be stormy 
and charged with electricity.

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"There is a two-fold Silence; one is
the corporate Silence; dread him not.

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But should some urgent fate bring thee to
meet his shadow, nameless elf that haunteth

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the lone regions where hath trod no foot
of man... commend thyself to God!"

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"Do you hear him now?!"

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"Roderick, you should not see this! Come
distract yourself instead with some reading."

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"And Ethelred uplifted his mace outright,
and, with blows, made quickly room in the

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plankings of the door for his gauntleted
hand; and now pulling therewith sturdily,

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he so cracked, and ripped...

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"And Ethelred threw his mace, and struck 
upon the head of the dragon, which

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fell before him, and gave up his pesty
breath, with a shriek so horrid and harsh,

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and withal so piercing..."

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"And the brave champion now approached 
valorously over the silver pavement of

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the castle to where the shield was upon the
wall, which in sooth, tarried not for his

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full coming, but fell down at his feet with
a mighty great and terrible..."

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"We've buried her alive in the tomb!"

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THE END