Without warning came those deep, cracked, raucous vocal sounds which will never leave Emily Elizabeth’s memory as long as she will live. Not from any canine throat were they born, for the organs of dog can yield no such acoustic perversions. Rather would one have said they came from the pit itself, had not their source been so unmistakably the nuclear reactor ahead. It is almost erroneous to call them sounds at all, since so much of their ghastly, infra-bass timbre spoke to dim seats of consciousness and terror far subtler than the ear; yet one must do so, since their form was indisputably though vaguely that of half-articulate words. “I...AM...CLIFFORD.”
This is a gallery-quality giclée art print on 100% cotton rag archival paper, printed with archival inks. Each art print is listed by sheet size and features a minimum one-inch border.