Act II — Chapter 18
18
Nothing in the world had any right to look like what Danny saw before him. It belonged on a movie screen, tempered by the knowledge that it was nothing more than CGI and latex. It could not — must not — be real.
The man tore at his face, frantically trying to wipe away the hissing, steaming froth that was forming on his flesh. His gun clattered to the concrete floor as he rose. He ran blindly a few stumbling steps before collapsing to his knees. His screams crescendoed so loud and high-pitched that they scarcely seemed human. Strands of blond hair fell from his head, curling and writhing on their own upon the floor. Within his eye sockets were two deformed cauldrons of bubbling white foam. Greenish-yellow cauliflower-like globules of fat spilled out from areas tha
