"It bit me."
"Vicious little bastards aren't they?" Gerrard laughed, as I bound the oozing nip on my thumb.
"What the hell are they?" I asked, peering into the strengthened plexiglass carry-case.
Inside scurried numerous..things..I'd have called them rat-like if they'd only had four legs. Mostly, they seemed to be made of teeth. They burrowed among the packing peanuts, sinuously writhing over each other. Every now and again greenish spines would ripple and twitch as they confronted one another.
"We've no idea," said Gerrard, "despite the teeth, they don't actually seem to eat anything."
He smiled. "Apart from you that is."
"Leach isn't going to like us storing these in the cellar."
"Aah, Leach is always complaining we never visit." Gerrard began to pack the case up.
I'd heard what Leach complained about.
Things grow, he said, in the dark.
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