It’s…

“It’s the eighth outbreak within a week,” Elizabeth nodded at the television.  Victor affected a nonchalant grunt, keeping his gaze on his crossword puzzle.  A sheen of sweat coated his forehead.  “And each one is occurring farther south.”

“Hmm?” Victor squirmed behind the newspaper.

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t!” Victor snapped.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow.  “Why are you so tetchy, darling?”

“I’m not bloody tetchy!” Victor realised he sounded exactly that.  He reached for the remote.  “Let’s watch something else.  Something light.”

Elizabeth placed a hand on her husband’s arm.  “Darling, I know you.  You can’t hide anything from me.”

“I – I’ve got nothing to hide.”  Victor forced himself to look into his wife’s eyes and found he could not.

“Darling… You did – get rid of the – you-know-what.  Didn’t you?”

Victor threw down his paper and let out a roar.

“All right, all right!  Get off my back, woman.  I may not have been entirely honest with you.  No, you’re quite right: I didn’t get rid of it.  I merely – abandoned it.  Somewhere remote, up North.  And I thought that would be the end of it.  Clearly, I was wrong.”

Elizabeth shook her head.  She put the TV news back on.

“That – thing – spreads evil wherever it goes.  Look, Victor; this is on you.  The vandalism.  The violence.  It makes mindless brutes of everyone it encounters.  See what they’ve done to that ambulance!  Those shop windows!  Each other!”

“I didn’t know, did I?”

On screen, a map of the country showed the location of each outbreak.  The path of mayhem and destruction couldn’t be clearer.  Victor’s thing was working its way south.

“We’ll leave!” Victor announced.  “Pack an overnight bag.  We’ll travel light.  We’ll leave the country.  The continent!  We’ll move to Antarctica if we have to.”

“No, darling,” Elizabeth seized her husband’s hands.  “It’s no use.  It will find us.”

“It will buy us time.  I need time to think.”  Victor’s eyes darted.  His heart raced with rising panic.

“We must stand our ground,” Elizabeth looked grimly at the television.  “We must be ready for when it arrives.”

Victor wailed.  “It’s hopeless.  There’s nothing to be done.  We have to run.”

“Darling,” Elizabeth’s tone was even but commanding.  “We have to be prepared.”

Victor gibbered.

“We have to face it,” Elizabeth shook him by the shoulders. “That thing must be destroyed once and for all, or we shall die in the attempt.  Victor, darling, love of my life, you must pull yourself together. Your creation is returning to its creator.”

Victor nodded.  “I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth stroked his cheek and uttered three words that filled him with dread.  “It’s coming home.”