Once
I had regained my composure, I saw that the elders were crouched just outside
the ruined door and wall, more of the creatures were stood behind in the
darkness. One was lying on the floor,
smoke coiling from its body, and was quickly dragged off by its compatriots. In
front of me was the chief. He was that close that I could smell his breath. The
castaway was kneeled down next to me on my left, looking excited and expectant.
Behind me I saw two of the monsters, our guards. The chief looked me over and then
looked over the castaway. His beads clacked together as he coughed and gurgled.
The group outside answered the chief in kind. He raised his hand. The castaway
was shaking with excitement. He brought it down and swept it to his left over
me. The castaway’s face turned white. “No. No, I am meant for Her not for you.
I am to be taken beneath the waves… no.” He was pleading. They descended upon
him, they ran in from outside and crowded the tiny room. They tore at his flesh
and crunched down through his bones. He screamed and I saw his face in the
scrum. Blood frothed at his mouth and his head was torn away from his neck by a
scaled, clawed hand. I was numb.
Once the castaway, that pile of rags and only other human for potentially
hundreds of miles was gone and entirely devoured, I was alone with them. I
would not be their sacrifice. I would not kneel and give myself up to these
blasphemous, pagan monsters. I stood, pulled the flare gun from my waistband
and fired a shot directly at the chief’s soft, unarmoured mid-riff. His eyes
bulged and he clawed at his stomach in a panicked, vain attempt to remove the
burning round. All of the creatures fell back in shock and fear. One knocked
the pot of soup flying and its scalding contents were flung onto those nearby
who screamed out. I took my chance. I darted through the torn apart hole and
dived into the grass.
I ran and ran till my heart was bursting. I fumbled blindly in the dark and
tripped on roots and slipped on leaves, but I kept running. I could hear them
in the dark behind me, crashing through the undergrowth, furious bellows racing
along behind me. I had to keep running. There was a desperation in the sounds
they made. They were almost as panicked as I was. The ritual had not been
completed. Yag-Ropth needed her sacrifice.
I managed to break through the grasses and came up against the central ridge. I
scrambled up, cutting and tearing my skin. Rocks tumbled from my hands as I
clawed at them, being dashed to a million pieces on the ground below. My nails
were bleeding but I made it to the top of the ridge and pulled myself up. I
needed some sort of distraction to help buy myself some time. I looked down
from the ridge at the dry yellow grasses stretching out below me all the way up
to that hellish beach. I reloaded the flare gun and fired a round directly into
a particularly thick clump of grass below me. The fire grew up like a red
flower and spread out quickly. They realised what I had done and their angry
bellows grew in their fury. I had one round left and I could see shapes pushing
through the grass towards me, the fire not spreading quick enough yet to cut
them off from me. I daren’t not waste my last round trying to spread the fire
so I hurried down the forested side of the ridge.
Tripping and stumbling, I made it into the forest which I suddenly realized was
my salvation. Those monstrous fish-men had to use tracks to get around even in
the grassland side of the island. With their large frames and heavy, armoured
heads, they had no chance of moving around in the dense jungle. I turned to see
if they were still following and saw with horror multiple silhouettes framed
against the reddened sky. The fire was obviously growing fast, lighting the
whole ridge. The shadows quickly descended and were heading straight for me. I
tore my way through the trees, beating back vines and branches. My arms and
legs were numb from exertion but I seemed to be having a better time of it than
my pursuers. Great crashing sounds and frustrated grunts wove their way through
the trees behind me. So far I had been trying to escape from immediate danger
but I knew I couldn’t run forever. They would never forget, and surely would
never forgive, what I had done to their leader and of course Yag-Ropth was
still calling out for what was due to Her. Now going at a slower pace through
the trees, I could think up a plan. I remembered what the castaway had said,
that he had a boat ready to leave just to the North and I knew that it was my
only (very, very slim) chance to escape the island. My only chance to survive.
It took a while for me to notice that the Sun was rising as its weak rays were
drowned out by the orange/red glow of the fire which must have spread
throughout the whole grassland side of the island. I now could better orient
myself and started heading to the North. The crashes were further away now but
they still pursued so I daren’t slacken my pace.
The trees started to thin out and I finally crashed through the low hanging
branches and shrubs and found myself in a small cove. By some miracle or divine
intervention I had made it to my salvation. The boat was pulled up onto the
sand covered in plant growth but, as far as I could see, it was perfectly
intact. I found a pair of oars in the bottom as well as two metal tanks of
gasoline. The motor was rusted entirely and useless so I hefted it off the end
onto the sand and quickly started dragging the boat down to the shore. It was
painfully slow progress and the crashes and bellowing in the trees was getting
ever closer. Sweat was pouring off of me from the chase and the dragging. My
muscles were burning. Just as it hit the tide line I heard the clunk and slosh
of one of the petrol tanks. I knew what I had to do.Once
the boat was out on the waves, I heard the final crashes as the monsters tore
through the tree line. They looked out at me, adrift on the waves and roared
with such fury and hatred I could almost feel it through the air. They couldn’t
follow me into the salt water. I was safe. Safety wasn’t enough for me though.
Victory wasn’t enough. I wanted… I’m not sure what I wanted. I think perhaps
vengeance. The rage they felt was echoed in myself. I had emptied the two
petrol tanks onto the sand before I had pushed off. I stood in the boat, I
raised the flare gun and loaded the final cartridge. I saw that some of them
had realised my plan and had turned to run back into the woods. The flare arced
through the air and the beach exploded into flame. They squealed and screamed
as their flesh melted. I saw one dive into the sea to escape the flames but the
salt water burned just as much in its fresh wounds. Spray and sand were kicked
up as it writhed. I watched as they burned, as they ran flaming back through
the trees. I felt cold. The sky was red with flame and death. The island burned
and the air was choked with ash, smoke and screams.
Everything was re…
Red.
The rest of my story is a blur. I was picked up a number of days later,
starved, dehydrated, delirious and screaming by a passing fishing boat. A fog
had descended and the fishing boat itself was lost. The crew hadn’t slept for
days because they said they heard ghosts in the fog, weeping, sobbing and
calling out. I was the ghost and when they finally dragged me on board I might
as well have been dead, only a spirit, so thin and hollow I was. The fog lifted
and they managed to take me back to the nearest large port. I stayed for 3
months in hospital entirely mute. Eventually I escaped the hospital and
returned home. I isolated myself entirely. Those closest to me have faded from
my life. I have consumed my time with research; of those creatures, the island
and of my visions. I have explained my theories concerning those creature’s
origins already. The island does not exist on any map from any time period from
any country. My visions however… I haven’t found any specific accounts of the
same vision but I have found accounts of SIMILAR visions. Ancient texts that
speak of snake gods and demon serpents, beings from Heaven living on a
blackened Hell. I now believe those pagan snake gods all have their common root
in the Yag-Ropth. The island, as the castaway said, is somehow perfectly
positioned, perfectly aligned. It gets a clear signal and the visions show the
Yag-Ropth truly how She is. Other cultures have had glimpses. The Aztecs saw Quetzalcoatl,
the Nordic Vikings saw the World Snake Jörmungandr. All over the world, stories
of dragons have been passed down from generation to generation. She is real
though. She sits waiting deep within the black planet haunted by giants and
demons that passes the giant blue star. She will come one day and devour
everything. She will devour whole. We will all be as one with her.
Going back through these experiences now, it all just seems too coincidental.
The boat with the flare gun that saved my life. The castaway, there to explain
it all to me. The boat he had left safe in the cove for me to escape. Am I to
believe mere chance and luck were the only forces at work? She wanted me to go
to the island. She wanted me to discover them and witness those ancient rituals
and then she allowed me to escape so that I may continue their work and perfect
it. Mere beasts are unworthy to worship such a god. Was I the only one that
pulled the trigger of the flare gun and burned those ancient abominations? At
any rate, the island has been burnt, cleansed, and now I am to begin again. I
shall call Her here. She will come and devour us and we shall all be as one.
The God of Terror shall come!
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