Donut

He coughed. It cut off his words, thank God, but a second cough speckled his blood on Carol’s face. Crimson oozed off his lower lip. His naked chest cracked like dry wood, producing a shudder, and something slick with black blood erupted through him. It appeared as though a girlish hand had just sprouted from his flesh—it flexed there, turned over, and drizzled. Then it sucked wetly back into him and he crumpled.
The flashlight bounced and rolled across the floor. It illuminated his heaped body, then a trailer door left open, and at last a figure who’d been behind him—oh God, what is that. At the briefest glance into its burning eyes, fear overrode her senses and Carol passed out on the icy trailer floor.


Chapter 17, Page 258-260