There was a face within it, a leering face superimposed upon the plasm. The tip of its bulb-like nose pressed hard against the silver-glass; wicked eyes glittered; the lipless mouth champed and grinned. ‘You,’ I said. My throat was dry; I could barely speak. ‘Not the greatest welcome I’ve ever had,’ the voice said, ‘but accurate. Yes, I can’t deny it. Me.’
