Nightmare Fuel October 2012, Day 11
Most of us lived with them. For many years I had a clamper bite into my thigh, deeper each month. Sometimes it walked for me, felling me clumsily. Maggio from Gargoyle Street had a liversphere, leaking poison from him.
One avoided the factory grounds. It was the kind of place where even the dumbest teenagers would not dare each other to go. Only accumulators went there.
Recognized by clampers on their skulls, which bored deep into their eye sockets, extending antennae and radars to the air. Accumulators furtivated there as often they could, trading bone and blood for spare parts.