By Clive Barker
With the 1984 ebook of Books of Blood, Clive Barker grew to become an in a single day literary sensation. He used to be hailed by means of Stephen King as "the way forward for horror," and received either the British and international delusion Awards. Now, along with his quite a few bestsellers, photo novels, and hit video clips just like the Hellraiser motion pictures, Clive Barker has develop into an unto himself. however it begun right here, with this journey de strength assortment that opponents the darkish masterpieces of Edgar Allan Poe. learn him. And rediscover the real that means of worry.
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Example text
The smell of the tunnels was in his nostrils now. Not the smell of the deep tunnels of course. They had a scent all of their own. But there was reassurance even in the stale electric air of this shallow line. The regurgitated breath of a million travellers circulated in this warren, mingling with the breath of creatures far older; things with voices soft like clay, whose appetites were abominable. How he loved it. The scent, the dark, the thunder. He stood on the platform and scanned his fellow-travellers critically.
The hallway beyond had disappeared altogether. Where the familiar interior had stood the vista of the highway stretched to the horizon. The sight killed Fuller in a moment. His mind had no strength to take the panorama in — it could not control the overload that ran through his every nerve. His heart stopped; a revolution overturned the order of his system; his bladder failed, his bowels failed, his limbs shook and collapsed. As he sank to the floor his face began to blister like the door, and his corpse rattle like the handle.
The physically wasted, the obese, the ill, the weary. Bodies destroyed by excess and by indifference. As a professional it sickened him, though he understood the weakness that spoiled the best of men. He lingered in the station for over an hour, wandering between platforms while the trains came and went, came and went, and the people with them. There was so little of quality around it was dispiriting. It seemed he had to wait longer and longer every day to find flesh worthy of use. It was now almost half past ten and he had not seen a single creature who was really ideal for slaughter.