The reel clattered loudly, his breath quickening. He couldn’t take his eyes off the things. They didn’t belong. Something about them pressed against an old part of his mind—deep and instinctive—that said: Leave. Now.
Then one of them shifted. Only slightly, but enough to make a small wake ripple out. Arthur froze. A low, pulsing hum followed, faint and strange—like something organic but mechanical at the same time. A wet vibration, almost felt more than heard.