MacQueen:
It was about twenty-five years ago now. My pa found him: Quinn Noddy and all his flock. Brains, guts and God-knows-what lying across the moor. And the look on Quinn's face. Like he'd been eaten alive. Whatever did it, it was big, had claws, and didn't mind a load of buckshot. After that, me father went home. He melted down my ma's wedding spoons, and cast silver bullets off 'em. He wouldn't leave the house on a full moon from then on.
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05/03/2025 alle ore 08:06
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