Island Of The Cryptids

32

Hadden's lungs filled with the musty air of the tower as he climbed up the steep flight of concrete stairs to the top. He giggled childishly, straining his crusty throat. He could no longer feel the pain of the worms inside him, only the love for his offspring that he was feeding, raising, and incubating.

He came to the top of the stairs, out of breath and choking on dust motes. The tower was open, and revealed a panoramic view of the tops of the trees in the distance, and the flat, sandy plain that the tower sat on. It also overlooked the cliff face, down into the valley with its sparkling blue waters, misty air, and mushy ground.

Down below also, he saw something stir. No longer in the shadows, standing in plain view, was a cryptid.

It was about the size of a human, and it looked around the clearing, knee deep in the bank of the water. It lapped at it, writhing as it slurped down the liquid. It lifted its head up to swallow, then walked out of the water and back to one of the caves.

More and more of them started appearing out of the tunnels. They all ranged from different sizes, some of them as small as an office chair, the largest one being about the size of a house. Despite their size, they all looked like toys to Hadden from the tower. It looked like a tiny playset, one of a young boy who enjoyed dinosaurs. Hadden loafed around towards a small trunk.

He sat down, giggling as the warm, mushy feces in his pants spread against his back when he dropped. He opened the trunk, realizing how fresh it was.

It was a brand new trunk, military issue. The outside and its contents seemed polished and fresh, almost brand new. As if something had brought it here and placed it here. Someone from the outside.

Hadden had forgotten what the outside looked like. He had forgotten most things now. It was almost as if the worms were in his brain, sucking out his knowledge until their tiny little brains burst from so much information. He scratched his head, peeling off skin and clumps of hair.

In the box were a bunch of supplies. Hadden saw one and got an idea. He pulled out a walkie-talkie, and flipped one of the dials.

***

Carlin carefully pulled the handle of the morphine syringe as it extracted fluid from the nipple. He pulled the needle out, satisfied with his doing. Tucker lay moaning on the floor, despite being fully drugged. Carlin began to walk over to him.

The walkie-talkie in his back pocket crackled.

"Hello? Hello?" it said. Carlin sat down and pulled it out, pressing the talk button.

"Yeah who is this?" he asked.

"Oh hey Carlin, it's Hadden! Nice to hear your voice again, buddy." Hadden's voice sounded hysterical and loopy, like a man high on drugs.

"How are you holding up out there?" Carlin continued. "And where'd you find that radio?"

Tucker yelled out some obscenities about Carlin as Hadden spoke, so Carlin got up and walked over to Tucker, needle in hand, radio in the other. He pinched the needle into the skin of the helpless Tucker, then pressed down, releasing an extra dose of morphine into his system. It wasn't enough to kill him, but definitely enough to knock him out cold. The bottle was empty now.

"-trunk full of supplies," Hadden was saying. "I grabbed the radio out of it and kept flipping through the channels."

"Huh," said Carlin. "Did you see any of those things?" The line went silent.

"There's a whole lot of 'em down here, at least thirty. They live in these caves along this cliff. I think there's a nest inside or something."

"Can you describe the location to me?" Carlin asked.

"Uh, I'm not sure. I kinda wandered for a while. I'm not sure where I ended up or what directions I took. All I know is that I'm in some big tower on top of a cliff. If you walk straight in the direction you left me in then you might be able to find it."

"Gotcha. Did you see anything out of the normal?"

"Besides the giant dinosaur things? No." Carlin nodded, mostly to himself. The line went quiet for a long moment, and the only sound in the dark cabin was Tucker's peaceful breathing.

"Hey Carlin, I know I'm infected," Hadden said. "That parasite you were talking about? It's inside me. I can feel them moving. I can hear them."

Carlin had a wicked idea.

"It's gonna be alright," he coaxed. "You just have to not be scared. Are you scared, Hadden?" Carlin could barely contain himself as he put the radio down. It crackled with static.

"I'm not really sure how I feel about it," Hadden said reluctantly. "I can't really feel much of anything right now."

"Do you want to get them out?"

"I'd do anything to get them out. It feels so icky and I want to throw up but my insides are so dry."

"There's a way to get them out."

"Really? How? Tell me!"

"Alright Hadden, just because you asked, and I care about your well being. You might be able to cut them out if you try. You just have to get into your skin a little bit and pluck the bastards out."

Back in the tower, Hadden shakily lowered the walkie-talkie. He set it down next to him, then eyed the trunk. Sitting atop a small container was a steel Karambit knife. He knew what he had to do.