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The Summoning — Bentley Little
“I have dreamed five nights of the cup hu girngsi.” Sue Wing listened to her grandmother's Cantonese words and shivered with fear. Cup-hu-girngsi. Corpse-who-drinks-blood.
Like the desert that surrounded the dusty Arizona town of Rio Verde -- population ten thousand -- the first dead body was found completely dry, purged of all blood. The sheriff, the state police, even the FBI thought it was the work of a serial killer, a case that could be solved by routine investigation.
No one in Rio Verde wanted to believe in monsters.
But Sue Wing's grandmother did. She'd seen the creature decades ago in China. She knew how such a monster appeared to its victims…the seductive guises it could take, and the terror and destruction it thrived upon.
No one in Rio Verde believed in monsters. But a monster had come, thirsting for more than blood…Ad it would not leave until it had drunk its fill.
Like the desert that surrounded the dusty Arizona town of Rio Verde -- population ten thousand -- the first dead body was found completely dry, purged of all blood. The sheriff, the state police, even the FBI thought it was the work of a serial killer, a case that could be solved by routine investigation.
No one in Rio Verde wanted to believe in monsters.
But Sue Wing's grandmother did. She'd seen the creature decades ago in China. She knew how such a monster appeared to its victims…the seductive guises it could take, and the terror and destruction it thrived upon.
No one in Rio Verde believed in monsters. But a monster had come, thirsting for more than blood…Ad it would not leave until it had drunk its fill.
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