Wolf of the Steppes by Greye la Spina

Book Details

Wolf of the Steppes – five early stories by Greye La Spina (1880-1969) one of the founding female authors of the modern horror story.

Wolf of the Steppes (1919) – A series of letters detailing horrifying encounters with a werewolf

From Over the Border (1919) – Revenge from beyond the grave

The Haunted Landscape (1919) – An artist gives testimony in the circumstances of his own death

The Wax Doll (1919) – An eerie tale of a little girl whose sole plaything was a forbidden doll

The Ultimate Ingredient (1919) – A horrifying tale of a scientist willing to sacrifice those who love him to facilitate his research

Wolf of the Steppes has 6 illustrations.

Wolf of the Steppes is also available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble

Files:

1. WolfOfTheSteppes.epub

Excerpt: Wolf of the Steppes

A series of letters detailing horrifying encounters with a werewolf

Letter from Doctor Thomas Connors to Amdi Rubdah, the adept, Teheran, Persia.

TO my dear Master, greetings: Not in vain have I learned from you somewhat of the mysteries enveloping the human soul in its earth life. In my performance for the first time of the ancient incantations you taught me under the Persian stars, I have gained a vivid knowledge of the occult powers resident in the flesh-caged spirit of man and realize with rejoicing the impotence of Evil in the everlasting conflict with Truth, especially when that Truth is armed with the knowledge that is power.

In this packet I inclose a number of letters sent me by my friend and colleague, Doctor Greeley. They will serve as an introduction to my narrative, which will follow, and they will bring you to the evening of the day I arrived at my friend’s house.

• • •

Extract from letter of Doctor Andrew Greeley to Doctor Thomas Connors.

Since I penned the above memoranda regarding the solvent you inquired about, I have had an adventure, a very romantic adventure for an elderly married man! It really should have been a young bachelor like yourself, Tom, to have gone gallantly to the rescue. Myra has become so fond of our heroine that she insists that we should adopt the young lady. Of course this would be out of the question until we knew more about the girl.

Now I suppose I may as well satisfy your curiosity. About two weeks ago I was motoring out toward Riverside about dusk to look in on a convalescing patient. As I approached the grounds of a large, handsome residence which I had observed more than once when passing, I heard suddenly a long-drawn-out whining on a quavering and eerie note that was most unpleasant; it changed at last into an undulation that sent my blood cold. So unusual was the howl that involuntarily I slowed the car to listen, in case the animal should give voice again.

I would have stopped entirely, had not a white figure with frantically waving arms sprung out of the hedge and charged upon me, springing on the running board with an agility and an indifference to danger that startled me. It was a young and very good-looking girl. Such fear stared at me out of her wild eyes that when she clambered in beside me and commanded me to go on I did not hesitate, but obeyed her agonized cry.

“For God’s sake don’t stop!” she flung at me. “If you value your life, go on quickly!”

With that I heard the crashing of a heavy body through the shrubbery, and looked back with a thrill of apprehension to see a pair of flaming red eyes coming toward us at such a speed that I stood not on the order of my going. I shot out of there, the little flivver snorting like a mad thing, while that weird howl wailed out behind us. Why on earth I should have had such a horror of that great dog I don’t know, unless the girl’s terror had infected me, but I certainly felt as if the devil himself were swinging along after us. I turned toward home at the first side road, and am under the impression that the beast only dropped behind when we got into the village; I can assure you I didn’t stop to look behind me after that last glance.

My wife was much astonished at her husband’s return with a fainting heroine, and she had her hands full, the girl going into one attack of hysterics after another. All that we could get out of her during the next few days was that her name is Vera Andrevik; that she is an orphan; and that it will be useless for us to ask further explanations from her. She insists upon the last point with a firmness as strong as it is inexplicable, for naturally much depends upon it in her own interests.

Until she has become more normal we must content ourselves with, the meager information she has condescended to give us. Her strange whims occupy us at present, giving much food for thought. In spite of the sultry nights now, she will not sleep until both windows in her room are locked and the Venetian blinds drawn and fastened. She makes a complete tour of the house nightly, personally superintending the securing of downstairs windows and doors. Lastly she locks herself into her room. Her mysterious precautions have furnished Myra and me the most lively curiosity.

If you happen to hear of a lovely lost Russian heiress, let me hear from you at once! On the other hand, if you are asked about the whereabouts of a fair but mentally unbalanced young lady, communicate with me also. As ever,
ANDREW.

Excerpt From: Greye La Spina. “Wolf of the Steppes Early Stories.”