Stephen King - The Shining

“Liar! Liar!” The words came in a thin shriek. The mallet wavered wildly in the air.

“Go on and hit me. But you'll never get what you want from me.”

The face in front of him changed. It was hard to say how; there was no melting or merging of the features. The body trembled slightly, and then the bloody hands opened like broken claws. The mallet fell from them and thumped to the rug. That was all. But suddenly his daddy was there, looking at him in mortal agony, and a sorrow so great that Danny's heart flamed within his chest. The mouth drew down in a quivering bow.

“Doc,” Jack Torrance said. “Run away. Quick. And remember how much I love you.”

“No,” Danny said.

“Oh Danny, for God's sake-”

“No,” Danny said. He took one of his father's bloody hands and kissed it. “It's almost over.”

Hallorann got to his feet by propping his back against the wall and pushing himself up. He and Wendy stared at each other like nightmare survivors from a bombed hospital.

“We got to get up there,” he said. “We have to help him.”

Her haunted eyes stared into his from her chalk-pale face., “It's too late,” Wendy said. “Now he can only help himself.”

A minute passed, then two. Three. And they heard it above them, screaming, not in anger or triumph now, but in mortal terror.

“Dear God,” Hallorann whispered. “What's happening?”

“I don't know,” she said.

“Has it killed him?”

“I don't know.”

The elevator clashed into life and began to descend with the screaming, raving thing penned up inside.

Danny stood without moving. There was no place he could run where the Overlook was not. He recognized it suddenly, fully, painlessly. For the first time in his life he had an adult thought, an adult feeling, the essence of his experience in this bad place-a sorrowful distillation:

(Mommy and Daddy can't help me and I'm alone.)

“Go away,” he said to the bloody stranger in front of him. “Go on. Get out of here.”

It bent over, exposing the knife handle in its back. Its hands closed around the mallet again, but instead of aiming at Danny, it reversed the handle, aiming the hard side of the roque mallet at its own face.

Understanding rushed through Danny.

Then the mallet began to rise and descend, destroying the last of Jack Torrance's image. The thing in the hall danced an eerie, shuffling polka, the beat counterpointed by the hideous sound of the mallet head striking again and again. Blood splattered across the wallpaper. Shards of bone leaped into the air like broken piano keys. It was impossible to say just how long it went on. But when it turned its attention back to Danny, his father was gone forever. What remained of the face became a strange, shifting composite, many faces mixed imperfectly into one. Danny saw the woman in 217; the dogman; the hungry boything that had been in the concrete ring.

“Masks off, then,” it whispered. “No more interruptions.”

The mallet rose for the final time. A ticking sound filled Danny's ears.

“Anything else to say?” it inquired. “Are you sure you wouldn't like to run? A game of tag, perhaps? All we have is time, you know. An eternity of time. Or shall we end it? Might as well. After all, we're missing the party.”

It grinned with broken-toothed greed.

And it came to him. What his father had forgotten.

Sudden triumph filled his face; the thing saw it and hesitated, puzzled.

“The boiler!” Danny screamed. “It hasn't been dumped since this morning! It's going up! It's going to explode!”

An expression of grotesque terror and dawning realization swept across the broken features of the thing in front of him. The mallet dropped from its fisted hands and bounced harmlessly on the black and blue rug.

“The boiler!” it cried. “Oh no! That can't be allowed! Certainly not! No! You goddamned little pup! Certainly not! Oh, oh, oh-”

“It is!” Danny cried back at it fiercely. He began to shufe and shake his fists at the ruined thing before him. “Any minute now! I know it! The boiler, Daddy forgot the boiler! And you forgot it, tool”

“No, oh no, it mustn't, it can't, you dirty little boy, I'll make you take your medicine, I'll make you take every drop, oh no, oh no-”

It suddenly turned tail and began to shamble away. For a moment its shadow bobbed on the wall, waxing and waning. It trailed cries behind itself like wornout party streamers.

Moments later the elevator crashed into life.

Suddenly the shining was on him

(mommy mr. hallorann dick to my friends together alive they're alive got to get out it's going to blow going to blow sky-high)

like a fierce and glaring sunrise and he ran. One foot kicked the bloody, misshapen roque mallet aside. He didn't notice.

Crying, he ran for the stairs.

They bad to get out.

Hallorann could never be sure of the progression of things after that. He remembered that the elevator had gone down and past them without stopping, and something had been inside. But he made no attempt to try to see in through the small diamond-shaped window, because what was in there did not sound human. A moment later there were running footsteps on the stairs. Wendy Torrance at first shrank back against him and then began to stumble down the main corridor to the stairs as fast as she could.

“Danny! Danny! Oh, thank God! Thank God!”

She swept him into a hug, groaning with joy as well as her pain.

(Danny.)

Danny looked at him from his mother's arms, and Hallorann saw how the boy had changed. His face was pale and pinched, his eyes dark and fathomless. He looked as if he had lost weight. Looking at the two of them together, Hallorann thought it was the mother who looked younger, in spite of the terrible beating she had taken.

(Dick-we have to go-run-the place-it's going to)

Picture of the Overlook, flames leaping out of its roof. Bricks raining down on the snow. Clang of firebells… not that any fire truck would be able to get up here much before the end of March. Most of all what came through in Danny's thought was a sense of urgent immediacy, a feeling that it was going to happen at any time.

“All right,” Hallorann said. He began to move toward the two of them and at first it was like swimming through deep water. His sense of balance was screwed, and the eye on the right side of his face didn't want to focus. His jaw was sending giant throbbing bursts of pain up to his temple and down his neck, and his cheek felt as large as a cabbage. But the boy's urgency had gotten him going, and it got a little easier.

“All right?” Wendy asked. She looked from Hallorann to her son and back to Hallorann. “What do you mean, all right?”

“We have to go,” Hallorann said.

“I'm not dressed… my clothes…”

Danny darted out of her arms then and raced down the corridor. She looked after him, and as he vanished around the corner, back at Hallorann. “What if he comes back?”

“Your husband?”

“He's not Jack,” she muttered. “Jack's dead. This place killed hire. This damned place.” She struck at the wall with her fist and cried out at the pain in her cut fingers. “It's the boiler, isn't it?”

“Yes, ma'am. Danny says it's going to explode.”

“Good.” The word was uttered with dead finality. “I don't know if I can get down those stairs again. My ribs… he broke my ribs. And something in my back. It hurts.”

“You'll make it,” Hallorann said. “We'll all make it.” But suddenly he remembered the hedge animals, and wondered what they would do if they were guarding the way out…

Then Danny was coming back. He had Wendy's boots and coat and gloves, also his own coat and gloves.