Far worse, though, was a low, powerful moaning at dusk.
“When the smoke cleared, I saw that the room was empty, and the window free. The room was much lighter. The night air blew in, coldly, through the shattered panes. Down below, in the night, I could hear a soft moaning, and a confused murmur of swine-voices.” – William Hope Hodgson, The House on the Borderland
Hannah and 23 other people liked this
