It’s alive.

It’s alive.

The creature stirred. The mucous shifted across its loathsome features, imparting a hellish sheen in the red torchlight, afterbirth become animate. It struggled up onto one spindly, chiropteran elbow, its jaws working in a grotesque bile-chewing motion.

It coughed. It spoke.

“Bloody ‘ell, mate. Cracking party, that was.”


Michael

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