Island Of The Cryptids

27

Manuel rolled in the muck of the forest floor. The loose topsoil clung to his skin, entangling within his thick arm hairs. His face was cut open and bloodied, and he felt the hot crimson streak down his face like morbid tears. He crawled through the dirt, his hands gripping the soil with such intensity it bent his nails.

His boots hammered against the ground as he shot forward in a crawl. The underbrush of small saplings and weeds sheltered him as he scampered around, avoiding the cryptid. The giant beast had retained pursuit, and stalked him still. He could hear its heavy body bending the trees and its footsteps jar the topsoil as he crawled. He could feel it move.

He came to a mossy log, which was decayed and bony, almost. It was dry and hollow, and covered over a small hole in the ground. Moss and vines tumbled down aimlessly into the pit, and Manuel threw his body sideways in. He was met with the sickening mix of rainwater and mud, and he lay on his back in the murky puddle, as the rumbling ground caused fragments of shaved wood and moss to drop onto his face.

The cryptid approached, its massive body radiated a frightening aura. Manuel would be scared, but he was too energized and focused on survival to care. The lukewarm water around him rippled as the cryptid bent over, fanning its claws out over the log like a piano.

The thing bellowed a hiss, then with a groan it pressed its claws into the log. It snapped with a crisp clap, splinters showering Manuel. The moss clung to the creature's hand as it raised its foot, then stomped on the log.

One end shot up, exposing Manuel's feet. He crawled backwards, heart racing. The flare gun was still in his pocket. In his breast pocket was a fresh phosphorus flare. It had gotten slightly wet in the struggle, but he prayed that it still worked.

He cocked the gun back, and loaded the papery cartridge into the cylindrical chamber. The cryptid roared, then dove its claws into the water, grappling for Manuel. Its other hand gripped onto one side of the log, prying it free from the relentless grip of nature. It roared, snapping its jaws ferociously at Manuel, who was crawling backwards. He used the dry cuff of his sleeve to dispel the water droplets from the hammer of the gun.

The cryptid reared back, a mouthful of mud sputtering from its head. Manuel scrambled out of the hole, then arrowed out further into the jungle. The cryptid screamed, then shot after him.

He slid onto his knees, diving into another hole. The cryptid smashed into a tree, sending chunks of bark flying. The tree toppled to the ground on top of Manuel, hindered by the hole, and he gasped. He choked the flare gun in his clammy hands, then aimed it out of the hole towards the top of the trees.

He fired through a breach in the canopy, the flare arching across the sky, its orange-red smoke clogging the air. The cryptid glanced up, giving time for Manuel to get away. He slipped past the distracted hunter, into the jungle.

He ran, his arms pumping at his sides. He was lost, but by the time the cryptid bellowed again, it sounded distant enough to slow his pace down.

He gasped for air, inspecting his surroundings. Dense vegetation everywhere. Trees too tall to climb. Darkness enveloping the place, and wind whisking through like a chilling breath. He shivered.

When he was in college, he had studied astronomy. His father had told him to keep an open mind, and expand his horizons. He attended one semester of the class, and learned mostly nothing intriguing. However, he did learn how to tell direction with the stars at any location on earth.

He meandered around until he found a clearing where he could glance up at the sky. The clouds were no longer thick and poofy, but long and jagged like gray knife blades. He could see the stars, and the moon peeking down on him.

He knew the path had gone east. He had entered the jungle on the right side of the path, meaning he had to go north to find his destination.

He breathed a shaky breath, pocketed the flare gun, and then made haste towards the pathway.

***

Kaeli wept. She cried and cried, somber cries of fear. The voices of the rain had gone away. She told them to leave her alone. Shards of glass littered the ground. Some of them protruded from her skin. She didn't feel the pain. She just cried.

Manuel had saved her. She heard him shout and fire the flare. The thing had ran away then. She knew how she felt now. She really did like him. She dreamed about what would happen when they got out of this mess. She cried for it.

There was a hole in the wall now. The night air breathed in, alleviating some of the stench. It whistled slightly, calling out to Kaeli. Calling out to anything nearby to come in. She didn't care. She just wept.