The Grey Ones

THE CREEPING HORROR


The rising moon was shedding a faint light beyond the banks of the electric machines, and from the angle he stood at he could see its fringe of light illuminating the upper panes of the windows

And silhouetted against the light sky he saw a thousand writhing, twisting tendons, like worms, striving against the glass.

He stared, fascinated with horror, then something close to his feet rustled and slithered like a snake. By the myriad ting glow of the valves he saw something writhing across the floor, fanning out as it came, slowly, steadily into the room…