Check out the update to The Eyes of God:

There was no need nor time to answer, for it was in the midst of my speech the sound, as it was described, that of flying insect, I could hear: like the proceeding before rain, the mad rhythm of countless beating wings in the distance grew as if an approaching storm, and carried before this encroaching plague a foreshadowing odor, well familiar to me, the retching stink found at every village where the unburied were left to the birds and sun.

To the others I turned, and found them a wall together facing the dark abyss I’d flown. Standing, I put my back to the warm campground, and stepping out into the cold and dim outskirts, leaving the sanctuary I’d found, I joined these men in their twilit battleground. A miasma of putrid fog seemed to carry the rotten smell into our midst, a chocking thickening of the air. Clasping my mouth and nose, I looked to my companions. They did not respond, in any way I could tell, to the rising stench, say that they became all the more ready to meet this unseen thing.

I looked to my weapon, a bit of flat steel always eager to be sharpened. Its length, it seemed somewhat wanting, was little use to serve in this unknowable destiny. It would bring me close to whatever I attacked. It was a mean thing, but all I had on hand.

“Where should I strike?” my desperate whisper rang.

“The eyes,” they told me.

And then the first of them came out from the shadows, an amorphous mass upon the wind driving hard towards us. It was then I saw with cold chills assaulting me, the horrible truth, the unreal revealed and made present before me.