
The other guests then rush upon the shrouded figure in outrage, only to find that he disappears at their touch. He chases the masked guest into the seventh chamber but dies in an instant when he confronts the stranger. Soon the revelers are laughing nervously about their folly, promising one another not to be so terrified when the clock strikes again in another hour.īut, of course, they cannot keep this promise-particularly as the clock chimes midnight and a tall and gaunt figure is seen walking through the throng ‘shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave.’ Not only this, he is dabbed in blood, giving the appearance of suffering from the Red Death-the plague which rages beyond the walls causing the sick to die with ‘profuse bleeding at the pores.’Īt first, Prince Prospero is affronted, thinking that this costume is some kind of joke in the worst taste. This chiming casts a melancholic, but short-lived shadow over the fun, which ends when the band strikes up again. The next oddity is the gigantic ebony clock that strikes every hour, on the hour, during the masquerade ball-causing the band to cease playing and the guests to cease waltzing. Once the firelight shines through this window, it throws a light that is ‘ghastly in the extreme,’ and needless to say, Prospero’s guests much prefer to enjoy the party in the other, brightly-colored rooms.

Each room is then decorated in a separate bright color, to ensure that this is a “gay and magnificent revel.” All except for the seventh room, which is draped with black velvet tapestries, and illuminated only by an internal window that is the color of blood. The ball is to be held in a series of inter-connected rooms that are deliberately arranged so that the next room cannot be fully seen from the current one. “The Masque of the Red Death” takes its first turn into the bizarre, when Poe’s protagonist, Prince Prospero, decides to throw a masquerade ball for his guests. Whereas Poe goes on to give us a mystery on a completely different level. However, this is when our stories diverge-because, after these comparable set-ups, The Bone Fire progresses with a murder-mystery plot, as my detective searches for the killer within the castle. Both stories start with these nobles planning to wait out this plague in luxury, whilst those beyond the walls are dying.

In Poe’s, it is an invented affliction, The Red Death. In my case, the Plague in question is the Black Death of 14th century England. Both concern a group of nobles who have taken refuge in a high-walled castle to escape the ravages of plague. Since my latest book The Bone Fire was published, a number of reviewers have commented that there is something of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death” about it.
