The House at the End of the World

by Dean Koontz

Although she slept less than five hours last night,

Oh no! The horror of only getting five hours of sleep! How utterly unthinkable!

Her eyes are black olives in the well-worked dough of her face, and her hair is not pure white, as you might expect, but in part pale yellow and peppered with gray, as if she washes it in urine and finishes it with a small spray of soot.

Wut?

As she and Libby follow the arc of the cobbled driveway, Katie remembers reading somewhere that the road to Hell is paved with the bones of faithless priests and that the way is lighted by lampposts that are bishops who, in life, violated their vows without remorse and now burn eternally.

What a weird thing to think about when you're running for your life from monsters and security guards.