This morose procession ends in a massive, lightless cavern, in which the disfigured persons are forced through an arcane and painful transformation ritual that results in the addition of several new limbs, all twitching and bleached white as deep sea fish that have never seen the sun. Then, the procession attendants serve coffee and yam pie.
Suddenly you hear it—a little knock at the door. Soft and slow, near the bottom. After a moment, there’s a tiny cough.
A lurid purple appendage stretched out of the thing’s mouth, rolling like an alien tuber towards the tuna, sucking it up and catching the ceramic plate on fire.
Even when it’s all told in hindsight, the action of “The Woman in the Hill” is good, the pacing is perfect, and the imagery is everything I want out of an ancient, faceless evil buried in the depths of the earth eager to make innocents disappear.
There’s so little to eat, the icebox is empty
Is it too much to ask to dine with a friend?
Arturo’s body was never found, and that was all well and good because after getting chased around by that chainsaw-wielding maniac, he could have really used a break.
And the neighbors glared at you, of course, because they think it’s your fault.