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The thing raised its head and glared through the bars Greasy black hair hung in filthy strings, half hiding the gray face The skin looked diseased, dead But the eyes

The eyes

They watched with a malevolent intensity that spoke of a dreadful awareness Pale hands gripped the bars with such force that the knuckles hite with tension The thing’s teeth were caked with pieces of meat

Benny Ied on the floor

Sick to his stomach

Sick at heart

Sick in the depths of his soul

Benny leaned forward His voice was thick and soft when he spoke

“Can you hear me?”

The creature’s lips curled

“Yes, you can hear me,” said Benny “Goodcan you understand me? Do you knoho I am?”

A fat drop of bloody spit oozed from between the creature’s teeth, rolled over its botto for a moment, and then dropped with a faint plash to the floor