Skrbt — Free

Leo didn't scream. He just watched, paralyzed, as the thing lowered itself down. It was vaguely human, but its joints were all wrong, moving like a marionette whose strings were being cut and re-tied in real time. Its mouth opened—a wet, silent hole.

Leo pressed himself against the rear wall, his mouth dry as ash. He didn't want to see what made a noise like that. A noise that wasn't metal, wasn't bone, but something in between. A noise that had no business existing in a world of verbs and nouns. Leo didn't scream

Then he heard it again. Not from the machinery shaft this time. From above him. A soft, deliberate . Like a fingernail dragging across the corrugated steel roof of the elevator car. Its mouth opened—a wet, silent hole

He pried the doors open with his fingers. The car was there, thank God. He stepped in, punched "12," and held his breath. A noise that wasn't metal, wasn't bone, but

The ascent began with a whimper. A low, harmonic groan of stressed cables. Then, halfway between floors 6 and 7, it happened.