The Alpha Protocol
said Silas appalled and stared at the gigantic,
pulsating spot on his screen that slowly emerges from the darkness on us
to move. “It’s organic. It's absolutely massive. And it moves.”
The water before our headlights began to whirl. A huge sog captured
the steel lungs, ripened us to the side and made the massive titanium discs
knirschen.
From the impenetrable yellowish rot of toxic water
not two, but countless, fleshy, pitch-black tentacles, thick as ancient
Tree trunks were. They were sown with crater-like suction cups from which
thick, corrosive acid troff.
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