The Land of Terror (And Creatures Within)

Chapter One The Arrival

The lands across this world are not seen until they have been explored. A land out on sea looking relatively small has been seen by the captains. I am a stowaway living in the draft of this ship of a name I care not to know and many others, I learn of great lands that have not been explored. Sailors stay at the docks trading and drinking without a care of what is behind the line of trees. Not even the settlers of these lands go beyond the forest wall because of fear, but I am not afraid, I challenge fear. I've found beautiful, wondrous, friendly creatures, and dark, deadly, vicious creatures. This land we are heading towards though looks promising: beautiful green hills, rainbows, high trees strewn throughout. There is a giant mountain in the center of this island standing sky high and as big around as islands I have seen before. The most interesting part is a big hole (well big enough to see) in the side of the mountain. This mountain is my destination, for I may find many great things inside.

As I get off the ship, inside a barrel made to hold stowaways carried by crewmen payed to hide us, I feel perfect temperatures and an ocean breeze. I finally get out of the basket and converse with the settlers and I feel a very friendly atmosphere, too friendly in my opinion.

The town is a crowded community that is very close to the water making a foreground of the wonders lying behind. It is a very community driven place with shacks high above ground, about twenty feet, made of wood, bound by ropes. Horns hang high above the ground, with guards at the poles, presumably to make announcements.

I go into one of the pubs and up to the counter, and the bartender turns around. The bartender is an old feeble man with a hunched back and a smile painted across his face. It feels surreal everyone is this happy and I look around to see the tension rise as my smile dampens into a concerning look. I look the bartender in the face and ask in a stern voice "what going on here?"

"The jungle, sir," he whispers as his smile turns into a frown.

"What about it?" I ask.

"I should not be telling you this, I might get in trouble. If you really want to know though, take this key and go to the cellar. There is a man named Avion down there who is part of a gang who have kept remaining copies of studies found in the very edges of the jungle. I will warn you now, if you get caught, I will not be held responsible, so when you are done in the cellar bring the key back to me or else I will claim you had stolen it."

I nod and sneak down the stairs into the cellar. As I enter I see not a soul nor even a keg. All I see is a bookshelf and I head towards it, on the bookshelf is a book bound in leather standing upright without any support. I pull the book, and become overcome by blackness.

I was dragged for about an hour through dirt and as we stop, I am put on my hands and knees, and shackles bind me. My hood is taken off and I am surrounded by books and men in long black robes with cracks of glowing blue, and their faces engulfed by a blinding black. A man comes up to me without a hood on and scars all over his face, and I feel a strong sense of dread within myself.

"Why do you seek us?" the man asks.

"I want to know about the forest, and what it holds. I plan to go to the mountain" I explain.

I look around and notice that the shelves are old and decrepit. Withered from torture and I can hear them scream to me all the words I want to hear, but nothing is coming out. A piece of wood falls off and fills the room with what seemed of a bang, but really a whimper.

"It is illegal to talk of the forest, but even more to learn new knowledge, making sailor visits brief without anyone bringing up questions or conversations. The most illegal thing to have is literature, unless it be a code of laws and morales. This place though is a distributor of books that you can read but you cannot checkout" he explains.