Island Of The Cryptids

30

Hadden had reluctantly conceded to himself and came to terms with the fact that he was sick. Even worse, sick with the worms. Sick with the parasite he had been told about. He hadn't wished to accept it at first. He had that shred of doubt lingering inside him the entire time that Carlin was making things up to scare him. But with time he had realized it himself.

He hadn't gotten a chance to inspect the trash can with his vomit, but he had came across a small clearing where he found out the truth.

His stomach churned so much and he could feel his aching bones against his skin. He leaned over a rock, spread out like a table, and vomited all over the spiky grass. His vomit wiggled with tiny entrails of maggots. They were small and think, like pin sized string, but nevertheless he saw them move.

And they were inside of him.

His head burned with a sweltering fever. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, and his glasses were cracked and bent. He discarded them in a pile of rocks. His clothes were torn, his skin bled, and he felt every pressure of the environment relentlessly beat him until he couldn't feel anymore.

Fear throbbed in his heart. He held the sinking feeling of what was to come, and he didn't want to cope with it. He heard them moving inside of him. Wiggling. Like a Vaseline covered rope sliding through a closed fist. They squirmed and writhed inside his skin. He felt the urge to puke again. He did.

After many aimless hours of walking, he finally came across an area where large granite rocks became cliff faces. The jagged stones jutted out of the ground, and the hills became rocky and dotted with gravel. The foliage was sparse and dried, the trees were not as thick and the bark peeled like sunburnt skin. The ground was covered in muddy pebbles and snaring weeds, also thick, knotted roots and heavy cobbles as Hadden walked.

He heard the rushing of water. The treetops shrouded the sky in a green, patchy paint, and they swayed in the calm breeze.

Hadden caught a tinge of salt on his tongue. He assumed he was near the sea. He had the isolated thought that maybe he could swim home. Get treated for his sickness. But he knew all too well that that wasn't going to happen.

A small granite outcrop stained pink and laden with fungus created a barrier along a small ridge. A gap in between two large rocks lead down a steep hill into a valley. Rocks were everywhere, and water pooled on the flat ones, making the descent very slippery.

Hadden carefully placed his tattered shoe on an arrowhead shaped rock, and stepped onto the hill. He carefully navigated over the sharp edges of each one, down the terraces of the granite outcrops, underneath the stray vines that lolled off of the trees above. He stumbled over a root, breaking his toe. He only felt it, and it throbbed for a moment, but his body was already in so much pain he could hardly feel it. He coughed and moved on.

The hill leveled out about halfway down, where a sprawl of porous sand and silt rest, collecting water that was dripping off of a rock overhang. The slanted stones looked like perfect footholds, and on any other day Hadden might have taken the time to climb them. But he had bigger worries on his mind. He stopped and stared up into the sky, which was still black, but now dotted with stars. Fog rolled over the ground, wisping into the air.

At that moment, Hadden forgot where he was. His mind went blank. He forgot all of the dangers of his situation. He forgot all the horrific things procreating in his body. He realized nothing. He felt the nudge of excrement nudging his trousers as he shat himself. Piss trickled down his bare leg, stinging the open gashes of the jungle floor.

His mind filled with a childish wonder. He stared open mouthed at the cliff, which swept around the valley in a circular dome. It reminded him of all the times he and his father had gone hiking, and taken in the beauties of nature.

Although dangerous, nothing compared in beauty to this island. It was simply marvelous.

Hadden kept walking towards the sound of running water. He felt the drizzle of the leftover rainwater brutally smash against his head as he walked underneath the edge of the outcrop. Caves reached deep into the bowels of the earth, like dark holes drenched in silence. Hadden stared in awe at them while he waltzed by.

The hill dropped again, and Hadden found himself near the shore of a large lake. It reached across the span of the valley, its waters crystal blue and unbroken. A massive waterfall tumbled down over the cliff, gushing with water fueled by the rain. The lake branched out into a few rivers which dropped off into caves.

A fallen tree lay next to the waterfall, and Hadden climbed on top of it. He windmilled his arms to catch balance, carefully inching his way across the slippery wood.

When he was close enough to the waterfall to not get hurt or knocked off, he ripped his shirt off and stood there, arms out, in an angelic pose. He let the stray drops smack his chest, and be breathed in gleeful excitement at the awesome display of nature before him.

As he glanced around, he saw more and more caves. Some of them as tall as houses. The blackish cliff looked like Swiss cheese with all of its gaping holes.

Then Hadden saw something else. Directly behind the waterfall on the opposite side of the lake. A chain linked fence. It was rusted and broken, slashed apart on angular cuts. Behind it were stairs.

Stairs that swirled up the cliff, hugging the rock face.

Atop the cliff was a tower.