This is Jay's true self. This. This thing with the inhuman screams and the buzz of static and the skull-like mask fused to the oil-slick black of its face and the discomfiting scuttle to its movement, like something spidery and wrong and put through a tape being wound backwards.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he mutters. They reach the end of the stairs as the shadow skitters after them, forcing its disproportionately large body through doorways and up the narrow staircases with the wooden supports that suddenly seem fragile as matchsticks.
If there's anyplace higher than this, they're not likely to reach it here. He can only hope to god it's enough.
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This is Jay's true self. This. This thing with the inhuman screams and the buzz of static and the skull-like mask fused to the oil-slick black of its face and the discomfiting scuttle to its movement, like something spidery and wrong and put through a tape being wound backwards.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he mutters. They reach the end of the stairs as the shadow skitters after them, forcing its disproportionately large body through doorways and up the narrow staircases with the wooden supports that suddenly seem fragile as matchsticks.
If there's anyplace higher than this, they're not likely to reach it here. He can only hope to god it's enough.
"High enough?"