But Jo screams. Only Jo. Rachel has just a moment for grim satisfaction before the bleeding, stumbling woman changes shape.
It is short, though it remains on two legs. Two hands, though weak and flimsy, too many joints. The face human-shaped, at least, two eyes though bright green.
But it's skin is dark, almost black, and wrinkled like too much time spent in bathwater. The green of its eyes rings its mouth and the way it moves, body held forward and balanced by its stubby tail, is more bird or dinosaur than human.
And the blood. It kept the blood. Not wounded and clutching, but in splotches over its hands, shining in its grinning mouth.
And it whispers, in a singing, taunting, giggly little voice:
no subject
It is short, though it remains on two legs. Two hands, though weak and flimsy, too many joints. The face human-shaped, at least, two eyes though bright green.
But it's skin is dark, almost black, and wrinkled like too much time spent in bathwater. The green of its eyes rings its mouth and the way it moves, body held forward and balanced by its stubby tail, is more bird or dinosaur than human.
And the blood. It kept the blood. Not wounded and clutching, but in splotches over its hands, shining in its grinning mouth.
And it whispers, in a singing, taunting, giggly little voice:
"Found youuuu."