Martian (Tales from the Moonlit Road Book 1)

Mars Trilogy

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Oct 16, Abbey rated it it was amazing Shelves: This superb horror anthology first published in , is filled with classic creepy tales, all subtle and low-key in tone. Plush but without excess, these classic short stories are smoothly scary, elegant and sublime.

Some are very familiar, having been reprinted endlessly in the decades after this book, but there are long lost gems as well. The best, IMO, are: Enoch Soames was the one most captivating for me..

Such collections represent the best companion whenever one is left to himself.. It's a pity that I lent it to a friend!

Jose rated it liked it Jun 21, James rated it it was amazing Feb 12, Lori Claxton rated it really liked it Sep 06, Catherine Catalyst rated it really liked it Jul 18, Nadeige rated it it was amazing Sep 09, Kyle rated it liked it Mar 09, TrumanCoyote rated it it was amazing Dec 12, Brian Woods rated it really liked it Oct 02, Jonathan Neumann rated it it was amazing Apr 29, Brian rated it liked it Jun 04, Amanda rated it really liked it May 09, Kathryn McCary rated it liked it Nov 11, Norm rated it liked it Oct 11, Shannon marked it as to-read Mar 13, Emil Sinclair marked it as to-read Mar 28, James marked it as to-read May 16, Kylee Starkebaum marked it as to-read Jun 28, Robert Schneider marked it as to-read Jul 29, Pedro marked it as to-read Jan 05, Amy Riccadonna marked it as to-read May 03, Heather marked it as to-read May 14, Anna marked it as to-read May 18, Thom Winters marked it as to-read Jun 07, Amy marked it as to-read Aug 04, Nastassia marked it as to-read Nov 13, Traci marked it as to-read Aug 11, Federico Sada marked it as to-read Nov 23, Mohsenfahmy Moussa marked it as to-read Dec 20, We all loved him, and our slaves fairly worshipped the ground he trod.

He was a splendid specimen of manhood, standing a good two inches over six feet, broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, with the carriage of the trained fighting man. His features were regular and clear cut, his hair black and closely cropped, while his eyes were of a steel gray, reflecting a strong and loyal character, filled with fire and initiative.

The Unreliable Narrator

His manners were perfect, and his courtliness was that of a typical southern gentleman of the highest type. His horsemanship, especially after hounds, was a marvel and delight even in that country of magnificent horsemen. I have often heard my father caution him against his wild recklessness but he would only laugh, and say that the tumble that killed him would be from the back of a horse yet unfoaled.

When the war broke out he left us, nor did I see him again for some fifteen or sixteen years.

When he returned it was without warning, and I was much surprised to note that he had not aged apparently a moment, nor had he changed in any other outward way. He was, when others were with him, the same genial, happy fellow we had known of old, but when he thought himself alone I have seen him sit for hours gazing off into space, his face set in a look of wistful longing and hopeless misery; and at night he would sit thus looking up into the heavens, at what I did not know until I read his manuscript years afterwards.

He told us that he had been prospecting and mining in Arizona part of the time since the war; and that he had been very successful was evidenced by the unlimited amount of money with which he was supplied. As to the details of his life during these years he was very reticent, in fact he would not talk of them at all.

He remained with us for about a year and then went to New York, where he purchased a little place on the Hudson, where I visited him once a year on the occasions of my trips to the New York market—my father and I owning and operating a string of general stores throughout Virginia at that time. Captain Carter had a small but beautiful cottage, situated on a bluff overlooking the river, and during one of my last visits, in the winter of , I observed he was much occupied in writing, I presume now, upon this manuscript.

He told me at this time that if anything should happen to him he wished me to take charge of his estate, and he gave me a key to a compartment in the safe which stood in his study, telling me I would find his will there and some personal instructions which he had me pledge myself to carry out with absolute fidelity. After I had retired for the night I have seen him from my window standing in the moonlight on the brink of the bluff overlooking the Hudson with his arms stretched out to the heavens as though in appeal.

I thought at the time that he was praying, although I never had understood that he was in the strict sense of the term a religious man.

A Princess of Mars; The Gods of Mars; The Warlord of Mars

Several months after I had returned home from my last visit, the first of March, , I think, I received a telegram from him asking me to come to him at once. I had always been his favorite among the younger generation of Carters and so I hastened to comply with his demand. For some reason this news did not surprise me, but I hurried out to his place as quickly as possible, so that I could take charge of the body and of his affairs. I found the watchman who had discovered him, together with the local police chief and several townspeople, assembled in his little study.

The Unreliable Narrator

The watchman related the few details connected with the finding of the body, which he said had been still warm when he came upon it. It lay, he said, stretched full length in the snow with the arms outstretched above the head toward the edge of the bluff, and when he showed me the spot it flashed upon me that it was the identical one where I had seen him on those other nights, with his arms raised in supplication to the skies.

Left alone in the study, I opened the safe and withdrew the contents of the drawer in which he had told me I would find my instructions. They were in part peculiar indeed, but I have followed them to each last detail as faithfully as I was able.

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