Kong: Skull Island- Beneath the Surface

Epilogue: Bones in Brazil: Book 2

         "I tell you senior! I know what I saw!

The man is of brazilian complexion with warm, chestnut skin and dark eyes that dart from shadow to shadow. The buttons of his shirt stretch as far as they can and his boots and pants are covered with mud. The little man has thick, calloused hands and is panting hard. He's been running for his life. Sweat pours down his brow. The man is surrounded by other ombres who look upon him, bemused. One man in particular stands out. He is tall and young. His face is clean shaven and his opaque eyes scan the stout, shaking man before him. Impatience drives him to step forward. The group goes silent. He shoves the fearful man against the wall.

"There are no such things as monsters, Fernando," the young man growls, "Stop wasting our time with children's tales."

Fernando gulps hard and shakes his head fervently

"No, no senior," he says, "I know what I saw. It had claws as long as knives! Eyes like snakes! Eight legs! I-it came out of nowhere! It ate my mule!"

The ombres in the smoky bar roared with laughter. The young man smirked then picked Fernando up by the collar.

"If you cannot learn to keep your foolishness to yourself," the young man exclaims, dragging Fernando across the dirty floor, "Then you can share your bleating with the goats."

And with that he throws Fernando out the door. Brushing the dirt off his hands the young man returns to his drink. The atmosphere of the bar goes back to normal. Upbeat, seductive tunes flow from the radio as the overpowering scent of tobacco and ale wafts through the air. The light is low. A beautiful young senorita carries a platter full of used mugs back to the counter. The bartender shakes his head.

"Silly old man," the bartender says,wiping the countertop, "Talking of giant monsters. I knew he was a loner, but an idiota? Dios mio..."

"This is a small village, anciano," another man said, taking a large swig of his drink. Some beer-foam clung to his bushy mustache, "That idiota is our only source of entertainment."

"More like our only source of annoyance," the young man said, "His stupidity makes this village look bad."

The young waitress rolled her eyes and picked up the young man's glass to refill it. She had barely filled it halfway when a movement at the bar door caught her attention. She looked up. Her eyes widened. The waitress dropped the young man's mug, letting it shatter.

"Mierda!" the young man shouted, beer drenching his shirt, "Watch what you're doing!"

She didn't say a word but merely pointed at the door. The men turned in their seats to look at what had frightened her. Every man turned pale. A low, primal growl resounded around the bar. Claws the length of knives scraped against the wood floor. Large muscles ripple as the creature paced the entrance. It's eyes--yellow like a snake--darted to every person in the room. The young man screamed. The monster's gaze shifted to the young man and narrowed. It tensed, then pounced.

From the road a lone traveller passes by the bar. He pauses and listens. Screams can be heard. The man leans towards the sound: those are not screams of surprise but terror. Then all goes silent. Through the windows, the traveller can see a large, non-human beast moving around. The man rubs his eyes. He looks upon the tavern again but the ominus shadow is gone. The traveller shakes his head and collects his belongings. Something about this village unsettles him. He decides to move on.

The light in the bar flickers out and all fades to the black night.

A soft hooting noise fills the air.

All is quiet but not at peace.

The birds fly away from the village in a massive swarm. Dogs whimper and hide under their masters' porch.

They are here.

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