Short Fiction · The Premature Burial (3/3)

There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad Humanity may assume the semblance of a Hell⁠—but the imagination of man is no Carathis, to explore with impunity its every cavern. Alas! the grim legion of sepulchral terrors cannot be regarded as altogether fanciful⁠—but, like the Demons in whose company Afrasiab made his voyage down the Oxus, they must sleep, or they will devour us⁠—they must be suffered to slumber, or we perish.