Perry Island is one of the smaller islands located in this part of the world. It's mostly a fishing town although it is a substantial provider of high-quality birch and oak wood. The days here are marked by lumberjacks and fishermen, each working on their niche parts of the isles.
The island is diamond-shaped, like cut from glass itself, formed by the rise and fall of the tides.
On its southmost point, the FarCatch cliff stands impressively, its jagged edge jutting out towards the sky and a 100-foot drop on either side. Below lays a sandy beach marked here and there by small mounds of sea-cut rocks. This beach, The Sandy Line, sees shallow waves and beads of glass moulded into spheres by the not-so-calm sea. On the north where the tides meet the sand is called Shrill Ting.
The tall and mighty trees are located on the central part of the island. The fishery can be found on the west coast along the shoreline.
The Perry Isle Fishery, The Morning Catch, is a small family-owned company built by the Tamsters. It boasts a fleet of 5 ships, the Flying Whale, Trout Deck, Millie Jack, Roe Stows, and the biggest of them all, Perry Heights. These boats leave the docks early in the morning about three AM returning well past seven AM with their daily catch. All kinds of fish are brought up to the docks. Heaps of Pink Salmon, Atlantic Salmon, Char and many more. These fishes are processed in the small factory sitting right beside the sea, the noises of its machines echo day and night throughout the island. Its day-to-day activities are monitored by the father and son duo of the Tamsters family. Larry Tamster and Taylor Tamster.
Two-thirds of the island is occupied by the deep forest, Eastwood and Mittsi. Many tales surround these lands. The Island was once occupied by nomads much before the new settlers arrived. According to the history books in the island's modest library, these nomads worshipped not deities but spirits of the forest. They gave life to every perfectly formed stone, every extraordinary tree, and every stream which replenished their vitality.
Some nomads left the isles, while some settled, some were driven off by the new settlers but most perished. What remains of their existence is stored in the dusty books, on shelves which no child can reach up to.
First day of summer holidays. This is the day when one cannot contain their joy.
Miss Whitney was, like usual talking to Mr Brown. They were having some sort of heated argument. On what, Sam did not know, nor that he cared. It was the final session of the last day of school. Everyone was eagerly waiting for the bell to ring. They could all feel the afternoon sunlight creeping in from the large glass-panned window. It wasn't just sunlight; it was a sense of freedom, of adventure. On Sam's right was Joey. Joey Luther was a tall skinny kid with baggy clothes. Not that his family was poor, he dressed so because he thought it looked slick. He was wearing a T-shirt which displayed some sort of metal band, on his right wrist he wore two bracelets, one bright green, the other faded yellow. On his left wrist, he wore a weathered digital watch, one of his prized possessions. On top of his shirt was a loose jacket which he got at the annual lumberjack festival. It wasn't surprising that he was sporting this jacket as his family were the owners of a Timber shop. Below these, he had put on loose khaki pants and some fancy sneakers he had ordered from overseas.
At that moment the bell rang, and at once there were cries of joy and laughter, everyone running over each other to head for the door. Sam and Joey were left behind as in the intense frenzy someone had knocked over Joey's glasses. Luckily, they were not broken.
Once everyone had left the room, they picked up their things and headed for the door, just in time to realise that someone was lying on the floor. They scooted over in panic just to see it was Mint, a round-bodied heavy-set kid with a kind face. He was trying to find his book. Once they found it, all three of them walked out the school gates together. Everyone had run off chasing the high of summer. On the Opi fork, the three discussed their plans to meet up at the Eastwood marshes once they had ditched their bags.
Sam crossed the road and went right on Hemingway Street, a couple of blocks down were the fish and chips shops, the woodwork stores, and the town market. He turned left onto Oak Street and Just before crossing the main road, he looked left, and his gaze fell upon the Meerkat house. It was called so because of its pale brown colour with spots of black paint falling off it. But most of all because it towered the other buildings in the town. Standing three floors tall watching the rest of the town with its beady black eyes like a meerkat.
Down a couple of blocks and Sam was at his house. It was a two-floor bungalow. The house was fenced off from nearby wilderness. A red gate stood half open, and as he stepped forward, he pushed through it to enter the veranda. On each side, there lay a garden with parallel-running flower beds. In the centre of the garden stood a tall, red-leafed maple tree. It proudly towered over all other plants and shrubs. The house itself was painted white with splashes of green and brown. The veranda was made up of wooden panels painted deep grey. Small flowerpots hung on every corner, flowers of all colours blossoming and radiating glow. Sam stepped into the house, turned the corner, and ran upstairs to his room. He laid down his bag and fell flat on the bed taking in every moment
A message pinged on Sam's phone reminding him that they had agreed to meet up. He paused for a moment then he started changing his clothes, removing the sweaty shirt, his jeans, and the winter shoes. He pulled on an Opi Demi shirt and put on some trousers and red boots. From a top shelf, he grabbed a notebook, it had a faded green cover with a gold mark in the corner. The mark was shaped like a snake but instead of one, it had four tails. The pages were stained yellow with bits of random sentences jotted in green ink. From underneath his table, he grabbed a purple bag. It was stuffed with notes and pages of all kinds. His table was a mess. On its right stood a lamp, bent over at its joint, looming over what looked like a map of the isles. It was an old chart showing the various areas of all the isles in this corner of the world. In the north lay Topi Mala, the land of sea warriors. On its east a small C-shaped island, the Topi Dimi, the land of spirits. In the south laid Perry. Of course, it was not always called Perry. Its original name was Topi Mopu, the land of the holy forest. These names were born from the nomads who roamed the island much before Sam's time. On the left side of the table sat a photo. He, Joey, Taylor, and Mint, standing proudly with their backs to the FarCatch cliff. It's had been a while since all four of them explored together.
Right in front of him, stuck on the board with push pins was a road map of Perry Island.
Starting from the northmost point, Shrill-ting, the Nat'mu road rolled down towards the heart of the island. Just before the town centre it gave off two tributaries, the east called the Raven Road which ran parallel to the Eastwood forest edge and the on the west the Tampa Road which led to the fishery and the timber mills. Nat'mu road then continued down through the middle of the town leading straight to FarCatch cliff. Of course, it wasn't all that simple, the town had dozens of streets crisscrossing, leading to the drug store, the butchery, the school, and many other establishments. But the map was old, and its maker didn't think all that was important or maybe it was after his time. Sam pulled out the left drawer and inside sat all kinds of objects, rulers, coloured pencils, wristbands, an old brown analogue watch, and his most cherished possession, a Polaroid camera. He took out the watch and put it on. He gently picked up the camera and placed it on the table. From the right drawer, he took out a soft cloth and delicately cleaned the viewfinder and the flash. From the same drawer, he pulled out a stack of Zink papers and placed it in his bag. He was ready. Sam pulled on his bag and almost fell over by its sheer weight. Pushing through the red gate he stepped out onto the street. The sun was shining although there was a chill icy wind blowing through the trees. He started walking back towards the main town. He looked around, people were going on with their business as usual, Jim the mill worker was leaning on a pole, smoking. Mr White was washing the front of his bakery. On the other side of the street, there was a line outside the local drugstore. Cats scuttled quickly between the legs of the shoppers. Some dogs were lying down in front of the butchers waiting for their cut. He walked on, soon reaching the arch bridge. It was called the Mellow Pop. It was carved out of a single smooth stone which glowed bright in sunlight. In winter it was so slippery that the council had to deice it thrice a day. Sam gently trod on, briefly glancing down to look at the silver river. The Shallow Falls River was running peacefully as usual. Cutting through the rocks it went on east towards the forest. Once on the other side, he waited for the crossing light to turn green. Looking around, his eyes fell on the Meerkat house. Were his eyes playing a trick on him? Someone seemed to be leaning out the top-floor window. Sam quickly looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this. But people were going about their business as usual. He looked back toward the Meerkat house, but the figure was gone. There was a sharp noise, screeching of tyres, someone had tried crossing the road when the lights were red. The driver cursed and jumped out of the car running hurriedly towards the pedestrian. The boy was shaken but unhurt. All this commotion drove the leaning figure out of Sam's mind.
He made for the eastern fork of the Raven Road. While he waited, his eyes fell on a cemetery running parallel to the road. There was a scraping noise like stone rubbing on stone. Sam peeked through the iron gate, but there was no one in sight. He thought this was weird. This cemetery had been used by the original settlers of the islands, the nomads. Hardly anyone ventured to this part of the woods.
"AAWWOOOO" came a shrill cry from behind him. Sam jumped. He quickly looked back. It was Joey and Mint. "Scared ya" mocked joey. Sam laughed it off. "Oh come 'on, agree that you got spooked for a second". Sam looked at his friends and said, "Yes shat my pants, you happy?". Joey laughed, and Mint joined him. They made for the most eastward point of the island. Near the marshes, they jumped up on one of the rocks. They sat there with the rumbling sea behind their backs. Joey pulled out some beers which he had nicked from his dad's cooler and Sam emptied his pockets which were full of cigarettes. They smoked and drank there for a while. None of them noticed a short black child-like figure staring at them from high about the rocks. Sam noticing the chilly wind looked up but the figure vanished with inhuman speed.
Slightly drunk and reeking of smoke they started making their way back towards the town. Finally, they had reached the graveyard. As they approached the iron gates Sam heard the same sound again. Stone robbing on stone. He paused "Did you guys hear that?" he asked. The others quickly lowered their voices. But the sound had stopped. "Still scared huh?" asked Joey mockingly. Why don't we go and check" he added. The others looked apprehensive. Still, they pushed through the wrought iron gates and entered.
The cemetery was closed on all sides by eight-foot-tall granite walls. The patterns on each wall were unique and looked like they were a part of some hidden scripture. The carvings were impossible to read as they were written in an older tongue. Etched here on the bricks were tales of long ago. Texts of all kinds lost to time. Each corner of the walls had a symbol next to it, a snake with four tails. The graves here had been roughed up by the elements and age. They lay in a neat order, each side in rows of four.
On the gravestones, instead of a name, was a mark. Each mark seemed particularly made for that person. There were several smaller graves too. Children taken too soon from this world. On the gravestone of each child, toys were carved out of marble and placed on the top right side of the grave.
The boys moved from one grave to the other. Stopping by a few to take a closer look. "There" Sam pointed out. A small tombstone stood on an even smaller grave. It had some kinds of marking which the boys could not decipher. Placed onto the grave was a bear-shaped figure which was cut out of the same stone as the rock on the grave. It was polished white and looked as if someone had cleaned it. Joey bent in for a closer look while Sam tried to read the text. In confusion, their feet entangled, and Joey fell on the bear-shaped statue which cracked and fell on the ground. A chill filled the air. Of course, none of the boys noticed this as they were too busy picking each other up.
Once the ruckus had died down the boys looked around to see if anyone had noticed. They looked down at the cracked figure. Mint picked it up. He turned it around and exclaimed, "There are writings here!". He took out his notebook and Joey shone his light on it. Mint said, "I have seen these texts in the books at the library". "We should compare this to what's written on the books to see if it reveals something about the myths of the island!" added Mint. Sam was aghast, no way they were going to take a piece of a grave back to their place.
The boys argued for a while. "Why don't you just click a picture of it?" asked Joey pointing at Sam's camera. "No," said Mint. "I need to clean the figure first". At last, the boys agreed to take the statue but insisted that Mint should take it. Mint was overjoyed at the prospect.
They picked up their stuff and headed home. As the boys left. The gravestone lay quiet A few leaves rustled. Then the air stood still. After a while, there came what sounded like nails scratching the inside of the coffin.
The stone shifted above and fell back. Whatever was inside was growing impatient.
The next morning, Sam's phone buzzed. It was the group. They were going to meet up at the local library. "I found some interesting markings on the underside of the figure; library is our best chance" texted Mint.
The group arrived at the local archive at quarter past eleven.
"Sam," said Joey "We are going to the counter to get some more information; you continue to look". "Yeah," Sam replied as he turned his back on them. The shelves were double-sided. There was no wall between the books on either side. Sam started pulling books out at random, flipping through the pages trying to find something eye-catching. He moved from one shelf to the other trying to read the faded titles. He had read most of these. The inventory of this library was hardly ever updated even less so for history books. What was that? A sound like a window closing came from the other side. Sam ignored it. He heard heavy panting like someone who was trying to breathe through a cloth. He was too focused on the books. He could hear light cat-like footsteps on the other side of the shelf. He paused. He had found a book titled TOPI MOPU – MASSACRE OF MITTSI.
This was new, he had never come across this title before. He carefully started pulling out the book as slowly as he could, the book was already in a state of decomposition and was falling apart at the edges. At last, it came out. Sam froze. he heard an odd sound like bones cracking back into place, he looked over at the opposite side, there was no book, just a red eye staring at him, blood pouring out of its corner, the iris vertically shaped like a reptile. The eye blinked but instead of an eyelid, a white membrane crossed the cornea from left to right. The eye then rose, showing a red bloodstained cheek and below that a mouth. The lips were split open, teeth as sharp as knives and gums black as coal. The thing behind the wall grinned at him. Sam felt a chill running down his spine to his toes, he couldn't scream. He staggered backwards onto another shelf, books falling all around him. People ran over to the section to find Sam lying with his back on the frame, finger pointing towards the opposite shelf. But the face had disappeared. Joey, Mint and the librarian ran over and bent down to find a shellshocked Sam, who had gone pale white. Joey shook him. "WHAT HAPPENED?" he asked. Mint bent over and touched Sam's shoulder. Sam jumped screaming. "WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT WAS THAT?" he shrieked. "Nothing's there Sam," Mint said calmly "We looked, just a few books fallen over".
Joey looked at his friend, concerned. He got up and walked towards the side where Sam was pointing to. Nothing, just a couple of books, he continued to look around and his eyes fell on the glass window. As he leaned closer and saw a single thumbprint covered in blood.
Joey decided to keep this bit of information to himself, at least for a little while.
Once Sam was out of his trance, they thanked the librarian and apologized for the ruckus they had caused. "Don't mind the books" she said "Just get your friend to the clinic or if all is well then to a coffee shop. The boy looks shaken to the very core"
Mint and Joey standing on either side grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled him up. The librarian was right, he was still trembling. They asked him whether he would like to visit a doctor, but Sam said no firmly. "I am alright, let's just go to a coffee place where I can tell you what I saw" he mumbled under his breath.
They entered The Bean Sprouts. Quickly they shoved their way into a secluded booth at the corner away from prying ears. Sam in a low voice filled them in on what had happened at the library. Joey was lost in thought and was looking uncomfortable. Mint on the other hand seemed excited. He lived for such stories. He began surgically questioning Sam trying to extract every bit of detail he could remember. After all three of them had calmed down, "Look what I managed to nick" Mint said in a low voice. In front of them lay TOPI MOPU- MASSACRE OF MITTSI. Joey and Sam looked aghast. Stealing from the library, and of all this the very book which had caused all the misery. But each one of them was excited. Here lay a book which had never been found on the island. The richness of myths and tales of legends contained in this book may prove to be beyond anything they had learned from school or their elders.
Sam was still a bit shaken, so they took him to the drugstore. The owner Mr. Jenkins was a family friend and was kind enough to give Sam a strong anxiety tablet. From there onwards they went to the reading area at the council hall. Here you could find private booths for studying. These booths were generally fully occupied during academic months. But since this was the start of summer, most of them were empty.
Here they laid down their bags, took off their jackets and turned up the heater. Finally sitting around a table with notebooks and pens in hand they opened the new book.
It was a ghastly read. All about the battles between the original settlers, the nomads, and the new arrivals from England. Cold-hearted murders of children and women were aplenty.
War crimes were committed on a scale which was quite shocking considering the beautiful landscapes of the island. The book described in graphic detail what happened to nomads who were held captive. Rye dipped in their eyes to turn them blind. Hot iron bars burnt onto their backs marking them like cattle, ears chopped off and worse of all the act of desecration of their beliefs. Burning of their holy trees, contaminating their sources of vitality, and introduction of foreign pestilence against which they stood no chance.
IN TEXT
"The raiders arrived on our land a fortnight ago. They are burning down our villages. They are carrying out sacrilegious acts. The mayor stood up for his people but was cut down, torn from limb to limb. His wife was shot and their child burned in the fire. These thieves show no mercy. My brother and I are holding back, waiting to mount an attack, but it seems hopeless against their guns and bombs"
"The women folk have brought out a witch. She says it's impossible to fight these madmen. But yes, our lives won't be in vain. The invaders will pay for their sins harshly. May this curse fall on their children and then may they realize how the atrocities caused by them tore our families apart."
"A few spirits still lay by us, we call upon such warriors, to avenge us. Don't let our lives be lost in vain."
The book was full of such markings and paragraphs, depicting how brutal the invaders were. How they slaughtered the settlers, killed their offspring and looted their land.
The three boys sat in silence, chills down their spines. Tingling from head to toe, goosebumps stretching from the back of their neck down to the hairs on their limbs.
"Why" said Mint "Why were we never taught about this in school". Our land was built on the bloodstained remains of its original inhabitants. Mint was fuming. He went on "All those elders I had talked to, said the same thing over and over, that we arrived peacefully and eventually settled in with the nomads, living with them as equals". "Bull-fucking-shit" liars all of them roared Mint. The other two had to calm him down. Out of all three, Mint was the one who had the utmost respect for the inhabitants of this land and the original settlers before them. He felt like a link of trust had been broken. How could he count on the help of his elders if they were hiding what had happened? Were the inhabitants of this land intentionally concealing what took place all those years ago? Fury pumped through his veins. And what was that about the witch and a curse? Mint loved myths but he also had a calm logical mind. He shrugged off that idea.
At last, they stopped reading, not because they were tiered, but because the book was simply too horrific to continue. None of them wanted to take the book back to their place. At last, Mint agreed, he wanted to know how else the elders had deceived him.
From the town centre, Mint and Joey went their separate ways. Sam continued towards his house near the Eastwood Forest. On the main street, his gaze fell on the Meerkat house once again. There was smoke coming out of the chimney and there was light on the first floor. He stared, who was at the abandoned Meerkat house? Did someone break in? Gathering his courage, he made for the cursed place.
The rusty iron gate was latched but not locked. He pushed the pin over and entered the garden which was barren save for a few weeds. The barbed wire fence was corroded, and all kinds of vines grew on it. The staircase leading up to the front door seems to have broken and mended a dozen times, clearly not by a professional. All windows on the bottom floor were boarded up so no one could peek through to see the innards. The big wooden door had a knob in the shape of a snake. Sam knocked on the door, once, twice and the third time it swung open on its own. He entered the hall. It was dimly lit and poorly furnished. A heavy wooden table with two dining chairs at each end. The cupboards were open and empty, there were no dishes or any other utensils besides a mug. Resting alone in the corner was a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
He pushed on through the kitchen. On his left was a door ajar. He gently nudged it with his foot and it opened without resistance. This room was painted in happy primary colours. Bright blue and red, ornate decorations, a happy birthday sign. In the middle was a play mat with letters all over it. On the right was a box full of toy cars and figurines, the box was labelled ANKI. Two big single wooden decorated beds sat at either corner. What was intriguing about this place was that most of the objects the toys, beds and stools were all carved out of wood.
Sam heard a creaking noise from the room above. Fear hit him; He had completely forgotten why he was there. He approached the landing of the narrow staircase and called out "Is anyone up there?". There was a wheezing noise but no answer. Sam climbed tepidly keeping his senses sharp. Upon reaching the first floor, he instantly noticed that the main room had no door. The entrance was wide open and on the other side facing him sat an old man smoking a long pipe.
The man gently asked Sam to take a seat next to the entrance facing him. Sam sat down, his fear slowly evaporating away. "What's your name?" the man asked. "Bill" Sam lied. "Ah Bill, so what brings you up to the Meerkat mansion today". "As far as I have heard people like to stay away from this place" chuckled the old man.
He must have been in his eighties. Long beard, sharp hooked nose, prominent brow ridge. Folds of tissue around his mouth and wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. He was wearing a brown sweater and underneath was what seemed like a dusty old shirt, formal pants and polished wood-soled shoes.
"What's your name" Sam asked him. "Ahanu," said the old man. "But unlike you, I do not lie," he said smiling. Ahanu carried on "You must have some questions, which is why you chose to enter here". Sam looked at him, finally finding the right words, he asked "Are you one of the original settlers of this land?". Ahanu nodded. Sam asked again "Did you live with your family here? And where are they? "Dead, burnt" Ahanu replied simply. "Why, what happened?" Sam asked feeling nervous. Ahanu looked hard at Sam and said, "The new settlers allowed us to stay but they were not so kind, they reminded us daily that they were the new masters of this land and we the original inhabitants were outcasts". The expression on Sam's face must have alarmed the old man. "Now now, I don't hold a grudge against you, the younger generation must do and will do better than their parents" said Ahanu although "I am certain that the deeds of your ancestors will catch up to you" he added. Sam looked up in alarm. Ahanu continued "No need to panic child there was no malice in those words. But Sam was becoming uncomfortable by the minute. Sam continued "They say that a witch put a curse on the children of the new settlers, is that true?". Ahanu chuckled "People make up all sorts of stories to support their narratives" he continued "Maybe the stories are true but in the end, it's all folklore, there are people who choose to believe and there are others who don't".
The old man smiled, and this time there was no hiding the malicious intent behind it.
Sam got up. His fear was reaching boiling point. Ahanu remained seated. He took off his glasses and carefully placed them on his lap. "You have been a very brave boy, you must show the proof of your courage to your friends. Why don't you click a photo of me" he added pointing towards Sam's Polaroid.
Shaking with fear Sam picked up his camera and aimed it at the old man sitting in front of him. He looked through the lenses, seeing the old man sitting calmly. CLICK. He moved his gaze instantly to the Zink paper coming out of the slot. Sam shook it in the air a few times. Then he looked at it. Instead of a smiling old man, the photo showed a body in a deep state of decomposition. Eye sockets empty, filled with worms and spiders, nose flesh ripped off, skin peeled off the face, the lips pulled back into a wide grin. Sam looked up and Ahanu was standing upright close to him, his empty eye sockets penetrating, his ripped-off flesh reeking, his grin revealing hundreds of sharp teeth. And then the old man said in a hoarse voice "I am certain that the deeds of your ancestors will catch up to you"
Sam dropped the photo and ran, as fast as he could, and as far as his legs could carry him, they seemed to have been turned into jelly. Down the staircase he paused, was the old man chasing him. From the children's room, a melody started playing. Terror struck; Sam bolted out of the front door through the rusty gate into the cool night. He kept on running till he reached the arch bridge. He looked down and saw that the Shallow Falls River was a deep red colour. He didn't think twice and ran straight towards his house.
As the evening fell, Joey Luther was busy relaxing on his patio chair. He had helped his father wash the trucks and brush off weeds that had sprung up in the yard. His parents had received a large shipment order, so they had to return to the workshop. He was still struggling to come to terms with what he had seen in the library. It was late dusk; the sun had almost fallen. He passed the time lying lazily on the chair with his neck stretched. As usual, the lights in his yard turned on lighting the perimeter of the house. As leaned back and exhaled he saw a shuffling of leaves from the corner of his eyes. He looked up and thought what he saw was a four-footed creature crossing the clearing. In the dim light, it was hard to tell. Plus, since they were near the woods all kinds of animals were seen surrounding his house. He let his neck roll back still wondering about the thumbprint when there was a metallic bang and one of his trucks launched three feet in the air and landed back with a thud. He jumped down and ran towards the trucks. The red truck had a boulder-sized dent on its front door and shattered glass lying everywhere.
The Vinyl posters saying LUTHER'S MITTSI was keyed- no, not keyed, it had been ripped apart with sharp claws. It must have been knives Joey said trying to convince himself. There were no such large, clawed animals on the island. He heard a drill starting inside the garage. Had his father returned? No, It was too early. Joey picked up a metal rod lying next to the door and walked towards the steel garage door. It was pitch black inside. He fumbled around for the light switch and finally found it, with triumphant joy he clicked it on. Two lights came on but, the third bulb sparked and fell to the floor. Joey looked around the dimply lit room. Everything was in its place. The tools lining the corner, and the heavy machines sitting there unmoved. Joey turned to look out the window. Something was moving fast in the shrubs, shaking them as the animal rushed towards the garage. Joey stood still, holding his breath. A final shake and- a rabbit jumped out into the backyard. It was nibbling on something. Relaxed, Joey turned his back to the window and there was a slashing sound and a shrill cry. He jerked around his head to see that the rabbit's skull was lying a few feet away, eyes hanging out of the socket. It had been decapitated. A few feet back its entrails were lying split open. Joey backed away from the window his eyes still on the rabbit's bleeding neck. If Joey wasn't looking out the window, he would have seen the crawling figure behind him. The creature's neck was broken in two places and long clawed hands reached its knees. The torso was naked, and the ribs were pulled out showing its black charred heart which wasn't beating. The creature stood still. As Joey was looking out the window his eyes fell on the reflection. He froze, he saw the creature with his head turned around pacing behind the table-saw. Slowly the creature's head began facing Joey. Each twitch in the neck created a loud crack as its spine turned. Finally, Joey's eyes fell on the creature's face. The creature had been burnt. It had no hair, just red raw tissue full of patches of black flesh. Arteries and veins ran thick on the surface. As Joey looked, the creature's face began to melt, the flesh from the top of the head started oozing down sliding along the nasal fissures and through the nostrils. The creature bit its tongue which started splashing about. Finally, the eyes started bulging out-but at this moment, and Joey came back to his senses. He hurled the metal rod straight at the creature's head who ducked and leapt straight at Joey. Joey braced himself for the blow, but it never came. The creature passed right through him and the glass. As Joey turned around, he saw the creature standing still on all fours with the rabbit's innards in his mouth. With one last look, it ran into the forest.
Since arriving home Sam had not been in any contact with his friends. He was too shaken to think straight. He paced his room, biting his nails, thoughts running at a million miles per hour. Sam remembered the anxiety tablets that the druggist had given him. He didn't care about the dosage, nor did he remember it. He popped in four tablets and laid down on his bed. Soon he was fast asleep. At midnight he got up with a heavy head. Too drugged to think straight he briefly glanced out of his window. There was a creaking noise coming from the garden. The area surrounding the house was pitch black. Nothing could be heard or seen. The garden was lit up by yellow lights. He heard the creaking sound again. He looked up at the top of the maple tree, the leaves were still, and there was no wind. So where was the creaking noise coming from? His gaze slowly began to fall. A rope was tied to a lower branch. He followed the rope downwards where it looped. Inside was a head swinging back and forth. The naked body was hanging still. Blood was pouring down the neck trickling through the chest and slithering down the right thigh- there was no right leg. It was lying down on the ground split open. The flesh was torn open where the joint had ripped. The top of the femur, the thigh bone, was glistening under the moonlight. The femoral artery was still jerking. Blood pulsating out from where it was cut. The left leg was still attached to the body. As Sam looked closely, he could see that the leg was completely twisted backwards the feet facing the tree trunk. The hamstrings were torn apart savagely.
As Sam stared, the head jerked up, smiling at him. The eyes were jet black The nose skin was pulled all the way up showing the bloody septum and nostrils.
Then the hands came up and pulled the rope off the neck and the body landed on the ground. Slowly the hands pushed off the grass. The left leg started turning the right way, each turn cracking like a bullet. The figure limping on one leg strode towards the gate. One hand on the latch, it turned around and Sam could see that there was a cut running across one ear to the other. The man smiled. The cut spread open revealing a row of sharp canines.
Back at his house, Mint had been going over the markings on the bear statue. He paused once or twice comparing notes found in the library book
The figure had some peculiar lines marked into it which resembled the illustrations in the book. He jotted these down in his notebook. After much research, Mint figured out the imprinting on the figure spelt ANKI. Pen between his teeth he continued working on it late into the night.
Finally, he pushed his chair back. Stretching he looked outside the window. In a few hours it'll be dawn he said to himself. He switched off the lights in the shed and opened the door. The shed was about twenty meters away from his front door. Mint paused. The streetlamp across the road was on, flickering light falling on a still-standing figure. Mint stopped dead. The figure was of a woman, strands of her hair falling over her face. She had high cheekbones, a sharp nose and a thin mouth. She smiled at him. Flesh from the cheeks started to rot, lips stretched apart to show sharp jagged teeth and four forked tongue. Her eyes were dark grey with no pupils. As Mint looked on, the woman stepped forward, and from her shadow, emerged a right hand. Its flesh was torn off from elbow to wrist. Ligaments hanging from the bone. She raised the hand and pointed a long bony finger at him. Then she pulled back her hand, placed it on her forehead and started peeling off the skin. She pulled hard and the tissue tore open from her eyes, then her nose and finally the mouth, what was left of the mouth turned into a grin. Mint felt as if his heart was going to stop at any minute. He wanted to run but couldn't, his legs wouldn't hear his command. There was a flash of light. A van had just passed on the road between Mint and the woman. As Mint looked back towards the streetlamp the woman was gone.
The next day Sam woke up with a heavy head, still feeling drugged he looked over at his phone. He had five missed calls from Joey and four from Mint. They hurriedly filled in each other on what had happened the other night. "We must at once put the figure back into its original resting place" said Joey sounding scared. The other two agreed.
During dusk, the three boys made their way towards the Eastwood cemetery. They entered through the gates quietly and made their way towards the grave. Mint placed the bear figure back into its original position on the right side of the gravestone. They looked around, noticing nothing, they paid their respects and left the graveyard in a hurry.
The wind in the graveyard stopped moving. The leaves and the grass stood still. Slowly the bear-adorned gravestone moved. A black charred hand appeared in the crack. It pushed aside the marble top with ease. With the sounds of cracking bones, a burnt skeleton stood upright. Clutching his bear in his hands ANKI saw the sun dipping into the shadows.
27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4jI666Yd2M
27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAkafFJPIuI
