White Beach Part 4

I think of my life as being made up of two parts. First there was my life (an ordinary life) before the clouds parted that night and revealed what stood mere meters from me, and then there is the second part of my life after that moment. What I saw shook me to the very core of my beliefs. I am not a religious man but I was brought up amongst religion and what that religion stressed was that although God was master of all, man had dominion over the world and all that walked, or flew or… swam… upon it. At the moment the clouds parted and the moonlight flooded the scene, all of those hard truths were turned to dust. No mere man could have held dominion over those things. Their existence spat in the face of all of those teachings of man’s superiority over the animals. In that moment, for me, humanity was cast down among the brutes and savages of this world. No better than the sea scum we crawled out of.

When the moonlight broke though I saw the creatures of the lake, the architects of the White Beach. Seven stood around the great tree trunk, twenty or so more crowded around in the spaces between the stakes. The first thing I noticed was their heads. Thick armoured scales covered their heads. It was as if they wore helmets but I could tell it was a part of them. It was grown from them. Their eyes were large and round, staring, lidless. Their teeth were sharp plates jutting from their mouths, the top and bottom like bone scissors. Where the armour ended on their shoulders, I saw they had dull, shiny skin. It seemed to be scaled from what I could see. They flashed in the half-light as they moved around in the clearing. Yes… the way they moved. They walked and hopped on two legs. Bi-pedal. They had the rough form of humans but the way they walked and moved was… wrong. It was so different despite the similarities. I guess if frogs could walk on their back legs it would be how they moved. They had short tails in an elongated crescent moon shape, obviously used when they swam and thick powerful arms ending in hideous claws. I had this insane notion that I recognised them and then I realised how this was possible. I had visited a natural history museum some months before and on remembering this, I knew what they were. These were the descendants of the armoured fish of more than 300 million years ago. Since finding them on the island I’ve done more research on these ancient fish species and there is no doubt in my mind that they are related.

My hypothesis is that these creatures did die out millions of years ago EXCEPT for in this one area. It seems that the monstrous variety on the island are freshwater based and perhaps developed in the isolated lake of the island. The sheer depth of the lake may well indicate the presence of caves and these caves may well have saved the species from extinction. In the intervening millennia they grew and thrived, evolved and dragged themselves onto land. Their brains developed, their primitive society arose and then their beliefs in that dragon living out in the depths of space… It was all so horrible and grotesque. Before the monkeys had descended from the trees they had been living here. Before we had learned to walk they had language. Yes, it’s true, they had language. A grunting, bellowing, coughing language but the intelligence in the cacophony was plain.

They were shifting around in the darkness obviously agitated. The 7 around the trunk seemed to be elders, huge, their flesh almost entirely white with scar tissue. It was then I saw there was an 8^th elder. It was low to the ground and had his back towards me. It appeared that it was sitting and then I realized why. It was only half there. It’s entire lower half was missing. It had elaborate hanging beads that seemed to be attached to its armour by nails or pegs and it dragged itself around by its arms. I found the thing entirely repellent but the creatures held it in highest regard and quit their grunting as soon as it raised its bent clawed hand.

This chieftain or shaman looked out at the attended mass from beneath its beaded headdress and spoke (or more accurately coughed) one syllable and the whole assembly responded in kind. It then carefully turned itself around to face the central statue. It raised its hand and with one swipe left scratches in the old wood. At the exact moment of contact the entire congregation, barring the elders, disappeared in all directions into the grasses. I heard them pounding along the tracks every which way. The elders sat down in their circle and rocked slowly back and forth, emitting a nauseating hum for what seemed like an age until the others returned carrying 6 of the small deer. Obviously I was witness to some hunting ritual. They had asked for good luck in the hunt and it appeared that it had been granted them. I was to learn though that this favour came with a price.

Those carrying the deer laid them down in front of the chief and the elders ceased their humming and rocking (much to my relief as I had felt the entire time that the humming had vibrated up the tree I was sat in and near enough shaken loose my joints). They stood and inspected the bodies. They appeared to approve and even from the distance I was away, I could see the abhorrent hunger in their yellow eyes. One much smaller specimen in the hunting party seemed particularly excited and began suddenly to retch. He brought up a ball of slime and bones which splattered down between his feet. Adults to the left and right of him coughed and head butted him. He, seemingly sheepishly, gathered up the piles of bones he had regurgitated and ran through the crowd towards the beach, knocked and pushed by his fellows as he ran. I was repelled but my mind was once more drawn to my visit to the museum. When I saw the remains of these creature’s ancient ancestors, it was explained that they could not digest the hard shells and bones of their prey so they simply regurgitated them in a bolus much like owls. The origin of the beach of bones was now perfectly clear as was the congealed pools I had seen. The fear surging through me was so great I felt liable to faint but I managed to focus as the young one returned and re-joined the ranks, to the coughs and rumbles of its elders.

Once order was restored, the chief raised its hand and brought it down in the middle of the 6 deer, sweeping it to its left. Instantly the elders and massed group descended upon the 3 deer to the chief’s right. They were torn and sheared into pieces in a horrific rush of bloodlust and gore. I heard the bones crack and the splat of falling entrails which were swiftly scooped up into the creature’s gullets as they scratched and butted each other for the choicer morsels. I sickened and had to hold back the rising tide of vomit. The only thing that helped me get myself back under control was the raw naked fear of being discovered by those monsters. To fall into their clutches…

Once the 3 deer had been entirely consumed, the elders brought some order to the ranks with more grunting and head butting. Once they were calm, the chief pointed to the remaining 3 deer which were held aloft by the elders. They presented them to the statue and then ripped the bodies to shreds. This was different from the feeding frenzy though. They ate none of it and proceeded to carry the flesh from the circle, blood and gore drenching them. The chief slowly lead the way on the stump of his torso, the rest following reverently behind. They passed through the grass and I heard once again the cracking of bone being stepped on then the splashes of them returning to their lake.

I could no longer hold back the vomit and raw bird meat splattered the grass below me. I thanked whatever power that was watching over me that the monsters were too far away to hear.

I think that I slept not at all that night but I was numb to the passing of time. My mind was lost in fog. All of my notions of what humanity represents were turned to dust in a night. I had to escape. I had to leave the island and return to civilization. Human civilization. I weighed up my options as the Sun rose. I didn’t have the tools to make a boat or raft and it would take too long. I had been lucky that last night that they hadn’t found me. I wished to be free from that island’s evil, I wished never to see the creatures again but I had no way to escape. I could perhaps kill one or maybe, at a stretch, two of the monsters with the flare gun but I would be instantly ripped to pieces by their brethren. I was trapped and butchery seemed to be my fate. Hopelessness washed over me.

I descended from the tree and walked out to the circle. I saw the goo left behind by the young one’s bolus. I saw the blood and the viscera. I saw the freshly trodden earth. I so wished, and still wish, that they were mere phantoms or hallucinations but it seemed all too clear they were real. I wandered from the circle into the grasses. My skin and clothes were again scratched and torn. I stumbled and tripped but cared not, how could I care for anything? I walked deeper into the country away from that poisonous beach. I walked in the sunshine till I was fainting with hunger and dehydration. I collapsed finally under a tree, still surrounded by yellowing grass. I wondered how long it would take to die of exposure and prayed to every deity imaginable that I would die before the creatures found me. I considered using the flare gun on myself but squeamishness stayed my hand. I had burnt myself once as a child and the smell had never left my memory. I could feel myself weakening in the hot Sun. I hadn’t eaten or drank in hours, I had barely slept for days and the shock of my discoveries were taking a heavy toll. As darkness crowded into my vision I started to feel more peaceful. That is until a horrid stench violated my nostrils. I fell into the blackness.

My mind once again drifted through the void of space. I once more descended down to the surface of that blackened hell. Demons and giants ruled its surface and nightmares ruled its cracks and crevices. The canyon I feared most reared up to engulf me for a second time. I resisted and silently screamed but down I fell. At least, I thought I fell. I soon realised though that I was not falling into the darkness, the darkness was rising up to meet me. Great clawed hands gripped the sides of the canyon, wrenching aside rocks and cutting the sand, and pulled forth a great head. It was scarred and pitted, wounds innumerable. Great twisted horns sprouted out behind, long and slender like an antelopes, while two more curved in from the side towards its mouth, like the horns of a demonic bull. Its mouth… Its mouth was full of razor sharp teeth, like needles but of a size too great to comprehend.  Its eyes burned yellow as it came closer to me. It was repulsive but awe-inspiring. Its body was scaled and twisted off into the darkness of the chasm. It stared at me. My soul felt like falling glass, any moment I would be dashed from existence. It saw my fear and a great echoing sound reverberated the entire planet. The creatures of the dark responded in kind and a great cacophony echoed through me. The great beast, this dragon of unbearable horror, was laughing.