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. Eons ago, or so it
seemed, the neutral gray mist surrounded his body and drew him
into the void. Groping, stumbling, frightened of each step, he wan-
dered through the mysterious fog.
Screams roared through the vapors. Harsh, intermittent,
guttural shouts blared out. He heard constant whispers in the mist,
low murmurings that were sly, insinuating, often obscene. At other
times the mist echoed with the howl of banshees, followed by the
grisly noise of feral animals feeding on some bony substance.
An intuitive impulse caused William to stop and assess the
nature of his situation. He shivered in the swirling fog and tried to
get a sense of direction.
Gradually, he discovered he was standing at the edge of a
large, seething pit. He stiffened like a carven stone idol, afraid to
move. The mist parted, and his gaze focused on a frothing mass of
black slime.
The thick fluid was in a stage of fermentation. Dark, reptilian
forms bubbled to the surface. Their evil, grotesque shapes blocked
his vision. They remained in his view for a short time, then
vanished as other forms rose to the surface.
The putrifying mixture seemed to engulf the universe. Entrails
of odorous steam boiled up from the surface. Images of angry
faces were reflected off the sides of giant bubbles. They were dark,
resentful faces with eyes glittering with hatred.
A panorama of scenes and sounds assaulted his senses
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