The Secret Master of Horror's first horror novel ù a rare delicacy.
ôOh, Christ,ö he groaned aloud. ôYou're back, are you?ö
He heard an obscenely eager snuffling. It reminded him of a dog after a groundhog, magnified a hundred times. But he was the groundhog, and this flimsy house wasn't nearly so secure as a deep burrow.
He extinguished the lamp and took his loaded shotgun from its place beside the door. He went on tiptoe to the window, but low clouds made it very dark outside. Something scraped clumsily against the side of the house.
Perhaps these noises were being caused somehow by malicious youngsters. He had seen many strange-looking kids lately, and ù
The house trembled under the impact of a heavy body.
ôStop it! Stop it, you bastard! Come in here and get me if you want, but show yourself! Let me see what you are!ö
Driven nearly mad by the injustice, frustrated by an enemy he couldn't cut or shoot or even see, the old man threw aside his gun and struggled to open the window. He had time for only one scream as the frame and the glass burst inward around him.
