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The woman's hand flew to her mouth as she vainly tried to muffle the scream that seemed to be lodged halfway up her fear-frozen throat. |
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It was impossible, yet she heard the words clearly. |
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It was a pleading, abstract sound, a sound without substance. |
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The terrified woman stared back in disbelief. Uncertain words formed in her dry mouth. "What . . . what are you . . . what do you want?" Her body was trembling uncontrollably and the thunderous pounding of her own hammering heart drowned out the fury of the rain assaulting the windows. |
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The thing was growing stronger. From tiny, all but invisible lesions, minute droplets of thick rich crimson trickled down and mingled in the gray-green liquid pool. |
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Flora's head was spinning, a wave of nausea engulfing her. She reeled backward, struggling to regain some semblance of equilibrium. She staggered from the room and into the darkened hall on the verge of hysteria. Finally she broke into a run. The fear wrenched its way up and out of her, spewing out in vile green waves until she collapsed in front of the bathroom basin, choking on her own bile. |
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Just as she closed her eyes, she saw it. |
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