Island Of The Cryptids

16

Hadden stammered each of his breaths, his heart exploding. His body was flimsy and weak, torn up from adrenaline fueled running. He was lost. Hopelessly lost. And the thing was still behind him. Was it? He wasn't sure anymore. But he had to keep running just to be positive.

His mind was racing as fast as his legs and he sprinted through the jungle. What if the thing flanked him? It had moved so fast it could be anywhere by now. His mind wandered back to the thing from his childhood. He was almost certain it had followed him, crawled straight out of his nightmares to haunt him.

Air choked in his throat, as he rasped to get the air to his lungs. His muscles were inflamed, screaming with every step he took. His hands and arms were jittery, shaking in the cold rain.

He wanted to stop for a moment, to catch his breath, to let the sweet air flow into his body and rejuvenate him. But he knew if he did, whatever was in that clearing would catch up to him and most certainly kill him.

The thing had moved with such ferocity, and violently killed the monkey. It was big too, more than the height of a small van. He didn't want to confront it again.

The trees passed by in a blur, the vines whipping his face. Rain barraged him like needles falling from the sky. The ground below him was uneven and wet, slippery with mud. Small streams of water flowed through the cracks.

The vines began to lessen and Hadden felt his footing drop as he barrelled into a large clearing. He stumbled over a root, then landed face-first into a swamp. The murky water swam inside his open mouth, traveled down his throat and into his stomach. He tasted the disgusting muck as it clogged his windpipe, cutting off his air supply. When he surfaced, he retched, spewing up bile and the swamp water.

His throat turned very sore and itchy. He retched again, tasting the pungent breath of bile slide along his tongue. He stood ankle deep in the swamp, soaking wet, covered in algae and mud. He eyed his surroundings. All around him was towering grass that swayed effortlessly in the breeze. He was in the clearing of the runway that the plane had descended upon. The grass looked brownish in the moonlight.

As the breeze swayed the grass backwards, he caught glimpse of something in the distance. A small beacon of light casting out from the center of the field. It was a measly speck of civilization, an insignificant amount of light, but it was enough to tell Hadden where he needed to go.

Hadden summoned his final strength and began to run again.