Sepulchre
“Yet if they could not rise, perhaps something of what they sought could be lured down to them . . .The boat tilted as Halloran leaned further over the side.'Touch the water,' he was softly urged. 'Feel its coldness . . .'Halloran stretched his hand towards the lake that had become a huge liquid umbra, and there was a stirring below at his approach, a kind of quivering expectancy.'. . . sink your fingers into it . . .He felt the wetness and its chill numbed more than his flesh .. . . deeper, let... it taste you . . .The water was up to his wrist, soaking his shirtsleeve .. . . reach down, Halloran, reach down and . . .'He heard laughter.'. . . touch the nether-region . . .Halloran saw the shapes rising towards him, mutations that should only exist in the depths, mouths-were they mouths? They were openings, but were they mouths? - gaping, ready to swallow him in . . . to absorb him . . .The laughter was sharper, startling him to his senses. Halloran pulled his hand clear, standing in the boat as if to push himself as far away from those rearing, avaricious gullets as possible.Still they surged upwards, climbing as a single gusher, an almost solid stream of misshapen beings, terrible unearthly things without eyes but which had limbs that were stunted and as solid as their bodies, while others were only tenuous substances housed around jagged needle-teeth .MoreLess
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