The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.
The Masque of the Red Death
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The Masque of the Red Death is in Short Fiction by Edgar Allan Poe, the 39th of 69 parts. Doomreader opens the book right where it starts, with the rest of the book around it.
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