#makoappreciationweek

He takes a few steps forward, feeling the current pull on his ankles, and then he stops -

There is a huge, bloated thing sitting in the sewer tunnel, a creature like a massive frog, with a wide mouth and vacant, circular eyes, set far apart on its sloping head. Its skin glistens with a thin film of moisture, something that slides down its broad body. And there is a small girl, clenched tightly in its oddly human three-fingered hand. She can’t be more than nine years old. As the light hits her face she flinches, blinking, her arms pressed to her sides by the spirit’s grip.

The spirit’s eyes roll towards Mako. A wave of revulsion shudders over him - its gaze feels callous and distant and full of hunger at the same time - the same kind of look in the face of children who pluck the wings from honeymoths and leave them skittering across the ground, with a cruelty that outlives their attention.

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