The Man in Yellow
In front of me, there lies a mountain of flesh and blistering sores that were releasing yellow pus of vast substances of homogeneous attributes boasting its grotesque and foreign secretion; that erupt in great quantity. The scent alone was horrific and potent in every sense of the word.
The sticky yellow mire gargled with passionate fury and immaculate vigor of perverted vitality, so much so its mere form was like a gigantic abdominous pile of fleshy worms whose origin was unknown to the knowledge of man.
Each of which was wiggling from side to side as if alive. The mere sight alone could even send cold shivers down the spine of the most seasons of enlighten ones. As the sight of such horrendous quailing mucus infest critter of darkness, was a mockery of god almighty eyes of ardor and equality.
At this juncture, you could even say that the secreted mucus of black gunk and yellow mire were alive, even sores. The container of such potent abominations was alive as well.