Mrs Bothwell waited politely for the still screaming cinema audience to trample one another onto the street, wondering how much they had seen in the gloom of the auditorium. Hiram had been fast, arresting the beast's attention before it could decide on a victim, and drawing it away. She doubted that any two witnesses would give the same story to the authorities, if any of them could manage a coherent account at all, and that suited her to perfection. Reliable witnesses would need to be attended to carefully, for fear of setting panic free in the streets. Her people called it containment. The world was not ready to know of the shadow things that flitted in and out of it, or the struggles that waged on the edge of a reality for more fragile than most of mankind could accept.
-Richard Wright, Hiram Grange and the Nymphs of Krakow