Хребти божевілля
XI
Itwastheutter,objectiveembodimentofthefantasticnovelist’s"thingthatshouldnotbe";anditsnearestcomprehensibleanalogueisavast,onrushingsubwaytrainasoneseesitfromastationplatform —thegreatblackfrontloomingcolossallyoutofinfinitesubterraneandistance,constellatedwithstrangelycoloredlightsandfillingtheprodigiousburrowasapistonfillsacylinder.
Butwewerenotonastationplatform. Wewereonthetrackaheadasthenightmare,plasticcolumnoffetidblackiridescenceoozedtightlyonwardthroughitsfifteen-footsinus,gatheringunholyspeedanddrivingbeforeitaspiral,rethickeningcloudofthepallidabyss-vapor. Itwasaterrible,indescribablethingvasterthananysubwaytrain—ashapelesscongeriesofprotoplasmicbubbles,faintlyself-luminous,andwithmyriadsoftemporaryeyesformingandunformingaspustulesofgreenishlightalloverthetunnel-fillingfrontthatboredownuponus,crushingthefranticpenguinsandslitheringovertheglisteningfloorthatitanditskindhadsweptsoevillyfreeofalllitter. Stillcamethateldritch,mockingcry —"Tekeli-li!Tekeli-li!" andatlastwerememberedthatthedemoniacShoggoths—givenlife,thought,andplasticorganpatternssolelybytheOldOnes,andhavingnolanguagesavethatwhichthedotgroupsexpressed—hadlikewisenovoicesavetheimitatedaccentsoftheirbygonemasters.
