"Michael Nethercott - The Beastly Red Lurker" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nethercott Michael)

Mudcatt gave a chuckle. His fork and knife were now in his hands. I was reaching
for my own fork when the butler re-entered.

I froze. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped like a meteor. A geyser of terror
came shooting up from my lower abdomen to the roof of my head. Cradled there in
the spindly arms of the old servant was a monstrously huge bottle filled to the
top with a foul red substance.

Mudcatt was grinning demoniacally.

"You see, I like ketchup...."

My heart missed a beat.

"On everything!" He began to cackle.

Staggering under the weight of the bottle, the old scarecrow approached his
master. Mudcatt screwed off the cap and the servant tipped the lip over the
pyramid of food. My mind reeled with inconceivable horror as the loathsome red
ketchup oozed ravagingly over Mudcatt's plate. Like some reprobate abomination,
Mudcatt plunged his knife and fork into the vile, hellish corruption that was
his dinner. He plugged his mouth with the hideous food-sludge and, upon
devouring the unutterable contents of his plate, he abandoned his cutlery and
thrust his arm into the terrible neck of the ungodly bottle. He began feeding
directly on the ghastly condiment.

At this point I bolted.

I ran frantically through the house searching for the elusive front door. When I
glanced behind, I saw Mudcatt and the butler, smeared in red, climbing over
furniture in their diabolic pursuit of me. The pair looked far less human now --
I saw them for what they were. They were in appearance something like foul,
diseased earthworms with huge hell-born mandibles that dripped perversion as
they moved. The whole scene was one of indescribable horror, so indescribable
that I must resort to long, ornate, vague descriptions that, in truth, describe
nothing, but leave the reader with a fiendish, watery, repulsive impression of
many hideous syllables.

I found the door and made my escape.

It has been over a year since that damnable evening. Mudcatt has vanished from
society and I, for the most part, am a hermit, shunning the company of my
fellows.

On occasion, if energetically pressed, I may attend a dinner, but even then,
even then, I do not eat. I fold my arms and smile, but I do not eat.