[1st POV - Theo]
The thing on the stage did not rush us.
It gathered itself.
At first it was only a heap, a slow shifting mound of flesh dragging across broken wood and dust. Then the black sinew tightened, pulling pieces together. Arms surfaced from the mass, then torsos, then heads. Faces pressed outward as if trying to break free, only to be dragged back into the whole.
Corpses. Many of them.
Some were missing jaws. Some had empty eye sockets. Some still had skin stretched too tight over bone. They were fused together in layers, stacked and stitched by strands of dark tendon that pulsed like veins.
The mouths were the worst part.
They were all open, not to scream or breath.
Just open.
I stared at if, half fascinated half horrified. "What is that?"
