[@Sikako J]

[i]Surprisingly, whatever it was took Scouti up on her offer. It tumbled out of the hole and plopped limply to the concrete. It was no wraith, but a (formerly) human corpse. 
The head had been... The eyes... Ugh, and the rest of the body. Whatever he had gone through had been so terrible that his natural appearance had shifted from that of a plump workman and proud father into a concentration camp victim. It was like the man had spent the better part of his life suffering tortures in the Gulags before being slowly drained of blood as a monkey mauled him. Fingers, toes and certain other small parts were missing. His eyes weren't raisins, rather they had been reduced to pits of coagulated dark blood. His hair, once a ripe burgundy, was now entirely white. Hair turned white from fright? That honestly wasn't even physically possible.

Again something whispered not with words, but with the wings of bats fluttering in blackness-
[/i]

(In dreams it is possible.)

[i]Like a blackhead being squeezed out of a pore, the creature that Scouti had parlayed with emerged. The features of its head were virtually undistinguishable, as its slick hide was coated with a thin layer of black mold. It was grave mold, what accumulates on the skin of a damp body before it begins to rot. The monster must have slept on the freighter for quite a long time. 

Its rubbery body poured out from the hole after the head had pushed through, but instead of piling where the corpse lay, the horror dipped up right before the blunt of its snout touched and reared, allowing the length of its great form to eventually slip out and gain traction on the ground to pull the rest of itself out into the open. 

Its wet nostrils quivered open and closed like the nose of a pig does. The mouldy head cracked open with the sound of a watermelon being bitten into, rivulets of stringy saliva stretching taut between thick, closely gathered teeth before oozing out into ropey tendrils which sank slowly down past wrinkly jowls. 

The thing's old and rancid dead-breath came out with a noiseless sigh, in a green steam that curled smokily around the corners of its mouth and wafted up like dye released underwater, coiling slowly.

From the bulbous body two arms that had been caked in at its sides with mold and blood shifted, spindly fingers tipped with long claws flexing out into the position a preying mantis maintains its own limbs. A stalking pose, lanky elbows tucked in so that the arms could be extended out quickly.

The unfairly long tail wound loops about the ground, slowly writhing, never still, perhaps ever so slowly working its way towards Scouti.

Having fully come out of its hidey-hole, the monster eased itself to its belly and looked up to the girl. It's eyelids bunched, about to flap open like the rattling shutters on a haunted house window whose sights were reserved for only the lost and the mad.

Stand still and meet it eye-to-eye with the intention of polite conversation, or move like a motherfucker? Think about it. What would Einstein do? [/i]