Where The Wild Things Are [Continuation]

2| THE LEGEND

2| LEGEND

ONCE there was a boy named Max,” she said to the children.

            They were all sprawled around the campfire, eager to hear the tale that she had told countless times, but they never got sick of it, because it gave them one thing that everything else lacked. Hope.

            “He was young, about your age Jimmy,” she observed as she pointed to the nine-year-old. Jimmy blushed. “And he was angry. He started to destroy everything that a little boy could. He threw things around, screamed at the top of his lungs, and stomped until the house shook.”

            All the children looked at her with wide eyes, not an ounce of their attention wavered. “His mother got so upset with him, rightfully so, so she sent him to his room. ‘You wild thing!’ she yelled. ‘You’re not getting any supper!’ That made Max very cross but he gave in to his mother’s request.

            “Soon enough—maybe about ten minutes—Max became irritable, just sitting in his room. He itched to do something, so that’s what he did. He shut his eyes real tight,” she imitated the action, “and wished and wished and wished to be anywhere else. Then, soon enough, he opened them to find that his room was growing. Vines began to slither through the cracks of the floorboards. And roots shoved their way through the ceiling as his furniture morphed into nature.”

            The fire crackled and casted shadows on the tall trees. The children’s eyes were all focused on the storyteller, their mind eager for the story to be retold, their mouths agape.

            “He looked around the place that was once his room—now a jungle—and almost instantly started to explore. He quickly found a beach, and conveniently enough, a boat that seemed to be hooked to the shore. It even had his name: MAX embroidered in big fat letters.  

            “So, for the common curiosity of a young boy, he got on the boat without giving it a second thought.”

            She stopped for a moment to regain her thoughts before she continued, “He then traveled among the waves of the ocean for ages, he had lost track of time and became withered and weak with no source of food or water. When he was just about to give up hope. His boat stopped on land.”

            The children smiled as their storyteller did, knowing it was their favorite part. “He was so tired and weak that he could barely stand. But he managed to get out of the boat and stumble toward the trees. Then he saw that he wasn’t alone.

            “There were seven monstrous beasts. They were about fifteen feet tall with horns and sharp claws and hideous yellow eyes. But Max wasn’t intimidated, in fact he lifted his chin up and stared at the monsters in the eye, without blinking.

            “That somehow told the monsters that Max was dominant so they declared him as king. They had a gory feast of food that Max relished in. And he soon began to love the monsters after he settled in, and they too, began to love him.”

            Her eyes glanced at her shoes, but composed herself and continued, “But not the way he wanted to be loved. So he attempted to sneak out, he was very quiet, but his foot, unfortunately, broke on a branch, which cause the monsters to awaken. Putting two and two together they figured out he was trying to leave. They wouldn’t let him.

            “But before they could arouse he bolted away. But they still tried to catch him. He could’ve sworn he felt the ground vibrating with the stomps of creatures. When he hit the beach he didn’t hesitate to push the boat back out to sea and jump in it.

            “He was far-gone when the monsters got there. All they could see was a little speck in the distance. One of the creatures roared in despair; for they loved that little boy.

            “But Max was safe and away, and that was all that mattered to him. But like he did in the beginning he had to travel for ages. One day when he was in the middle of the ocean he shut his eyes real tight like he did in his room and he wished and wished and wished to be back home.

            “And when he opened his eyes he was in his bed, he was so relieved. When he sat up he turned to his supper on the night table, and it was still warm.”

There was a silence before an applause produced by tiny hands filled the air. They were all smiling and giggly.

            But that all changed when an ear-piercing roar cut through the air. A lot of people shoved their fingers in their ears; dread filled everyone’s stomach. Quickly the older kids shoved the little ones inside their tents.            

            Some kids were crying, but she could only tell by the glistening of the tears. The kids learned not to wail; it would attract attention from the Outside. And attracting attention would mean death.

            She shoved the stray children into the community tent that had lost their guardians’ in the commotion. She was about to go back and see if there were more kids when something tugged on her shirt.

            She looked down to find Jimmy gripping the fabric of her shirt, eyes shining with tears.  He visibly swallowed, “Was that Carol?” he muttered. She squatted down to his level and whispered, “I don’t know, but don’t be scared, okay? I’ll protect you.”

            Right as she finished her sentence another roar filled the already tense air, closer this time. She stood up and drew out her knife. She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Lara.

            “Merlin,” she whispered, “if you’re going to have the knife out do it Outside. You don’t want to scare the little ones.” Merlin nodded as Lara scooped Jimmy in her arms. “It’s going to be okay,” Lara cooed to them, “it’s going to be just fine.”

            As Lara was distracting them, Merlin slipped outside the tent, knife at the ready. She glanced around the area to see a couple more people had the same idea. Merlin nodded to them, and they nodded back.

            They all crept forward against the wooden wall that cut them off from the Outside. With the adrenaline rushing through her Merlin flung the gate door open. A lot of people gave her death glares, but backed off. She was their leader; she knew what she was doing.

            She looked around and hesitantly stepped out. The only light source given was the dying fire that’s shadows still danced on the trees, and the fading light of the moon and the stars. So if there was a trap she wouldn’t see it. That made her feel exposed.

            A low moan disrupted her thoughts. A jolt of fear coursed through her, but she remained calm. Merlin took a deep breath, then raised her hand and motioned the people forward for back up.

            She crept forward quietly. Wondering where the source of the noise came from. As if reading her thoughts another sound shattered the silence. It was definitely a human. “Get a torch,” someone whispered, and reluctantly, someone did. Gretchen, the head of medical, handed it to Merlin, and they steadily continued forward, making sure to not make any sudden noises.

             They walked a couple steps before they found the source of the noise. They all gasped when it captured the light.