He’d hung suspended above the tables, in the room’s center. As Hestie’s headlight flashed through the narrow gap, it had illuminated him in awful, grotesque clarity. His skin was marbled with unnatural, off-white lumps. His clothes drifted about him, weightless and dull. She could have sworn she’d seen his eyes beneath the heavy lids and that they’d flashed. Just like the eyes from down the hallway.
