The Blood Ring

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Just off Massachusetts Avenue, in Washington, D.C., squatted the great, dark-red bulk of the Braintree Museum. It had plenty of grounds around it, shaded by huge old trees.

It was beautiful in daylight. But at night, with none too many street lamps around there anyway, it looked pitch-dark, grim, filled with whispering shadows.

On this particular night, it was darker than ever around Braintree Museum. The big trees seemed actually to droop their full branches till they touched the ground, making little tents with the trunks of the trees as the center poles. It looked as if an army could hide in the museum grounds.

From all the stationary shadows, at just a few minutes after midnight, suddenly appeared one that moved.

It was very tall, thin, and had a human look. And yet, if anyone had been around to see, he would have had the impression that the moving shadow, somehow, was not human.

However, there was no one around to see.

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