The Malignant Entity Read Free Page A

replied, “yet it is only on such an hypothesis that I can account for the mysterious deaths of the professor and Officer Rooney.”
    “But I don’t see how a moneron or a creature remotely resembling one could kill and completely devour a man in less than two hours,” I objected.
    “Nor I,” agreed the doctor. “In fact I am of the opinion that, if the professor did succeed in creating life, the result was unlike any creature large or small, now inhabiting the earth—a hideous monster, perhaps, with undreamed of powers and possibilities—an alien organism among billions of other organisms, hating them all because it has nothing in common with them—a malignant entity governed solely by the primitive desire for food and growth with only hatred of and envy for the more fortunate natural creatures around it.”
    “If the professor did succeed in creating or discovering such a creature,” I said, “it is evidently in this house at this very moment. Unless it has the faculty of making itself invisible a thorough search should reveal its whereabouts, for having consumed two men it must be a monster of no mean proportions.”
    “That is true,” replied the doctor, “however, we have another hypothesis that is equally worthy of our consideration if we accept the premise that the professor created a living creature. Judging from his writings he spent a considerable portion of his time studying and experimenting in microbiology. Suppose he succeeded in creating a microscopic organism, and that organism had the power to reproduce its kind. If it reproduced by fission, that is, by simply dividing itself after it had attained a certain size, the only check to its increase would be death or lack of food. The more food it could obtain that much more rapidly would it and its descendants multiply. Countless billions of such creatures might occupy this room and yet be invisible without the aid of a compound microscope. There is ample room for a swarm of such creatures numerous enough to devour a man to float in the air above our heads without revealing its presence.” The words of the doctor affected me strangely. Involuntarily I looked upward, half expecting a swarm of man-eating microbes to descend and devour me. For a moment I was seized with a feeling of panic so strong I could scarcely restrain myself from leaping for the door. The fact that the sun had just set and dusky shadows were thickening in the room augmented the illusion. I crossed the floor nervously and pressed the switch beside the door. Instantly the place was flooded with blue-white light from a cluster of powerful globes depending from the middle of the ceiling.
    As I was recrossing the room my eyes fell on the contents of the glass-lined tank. I stared unbelievingly for a moment, then called Dr. Dorp.
    “What is it, Evans?” he asked.
    “The liquid in this tank,” I replied. “It has changed color. Something has turned it pink.” “The effect of the artificial light, no doubt,” he said, coming up beside me. Then I saw the expression of doubt on his face change to one of surprise and wonder.
    “You are right,” he exclaimed. “It has not only changed color but a still more remarkable transformation has taken place. When we noticed it this afternoon, the tank was a third full of the colorless liquid. This pink fluid reaches half way to the top!”

A Drawer Filled With Bones
    HE tread of many feet sounded in the hall.
    Chief McGraw paused in the doorway, staring down at the blue-clad skeleton on the floor, a look of horror on his face. Behind him were four policemen in uniform.
    “Is—is that the skeleton of poor old Rooney?”
    McGraw asked. It’s too ghastly a thing to believe. “I’m afraid it is,” replied Dr. Dorp.
    The chief knelt and examined the star on the bagging blue coat.
    “It’s hellish, positively hellish,” he said, rising. “Do you know what killed him?”
    “We are working on a theory—” began the doctor, but was