A World Darkly (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 3)

by John Triptych

  He looked out towards the upper deck just below him and he could see the captain standing at the bow, right beside the harpoon cannon. Captain Pillinger was using his binoculars to search the murky waters around him, but the rising mists kept obscuring any details. The remaining hunter crews were spread out along the sides of the upper deck as they leaned over the railings while using binoculars and scoped rifles to try and spot their quarry, so they could finally kill it and go home. Everyone was on edge, but the fatigue from all those sleepless nights was making them see things. Just yesterday, two hunters thought they finally spotted the great serpent and shouted at the captain to turn the ship hard to starboard, but as they got closer everyone realized it was just another sunken tree. The captain was filled with rage and he wanted to execute the two men on the spot, and it was only through Gatlin’s timely intervention that the men’s lives were spared. After that, no one dared to shout out an alarm unless they were absolutely sure.

  Just as his eyes began to droop, Tyrone shook his head rapidly from the side to side in order to stay awake. He hadn’t been dreaming about the Master of Breath, but that was only because he hadn’t slept at all. The captain had ordered him to man the ship’s wheel and he hadn’t left the pilot house in nearly two days. Four large plastic bottles sitting in the corner near his legs were filled with yellow urine. The one time he had been able to go to the bathroom was when the captain mercifully took over the ship’s wheel for a few minutes. Tyrone glanced over through the smashed-in side windows to see if he could get anyone’s attention. If he could just get a cup of steaming coffee, then it would keep him going for another hour, at least. As he peered over the port side of the ship, that was when he saw something.

  At first he thought it was just a floating log near a copse of sunken trees. Then it started moving as it undulated its cylindrical body through the muddy water. Tyrone blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. The creature was apparently swimming parallel to the ship, as to why, he had no idea. Either way, he wanted to get this over with. Tyrone began to turn the ship’s wheel to his left as the ship started to turn portside.

  Captain Pillinger turned and looked at him through the front window. “What in the hell are you doing?”

  Tyrone gestured with his chin as he signaled the engine room to go to full speed. “Over there, I think I see it!”

  Everyone started to look out over the decks as Tyrone maneuvered the ship into a much wider waterway. A few of the men started shouting and pointing at something in the water, less than thirty feet away from their front starboard side. As they got closer, the shouts turned into muted gasps of shock and awe. That was when Tyrone realized that they would need a bigger boat.

  The great horned serpent reared its head above the water, and Tyrone guessed it must have been as big as a bulldozer. The front part was streamlined, with rows of fanged teeth that were the size of great swords along its wide mouth. Its glowing reptilian eyes must have measured several feet in diameter. Two gigantic curved horns grew from the side of its head, while a massive red crystal seemed to be imbedded on the top of its forehead. As the sea monster began to bring the full length of its gargantuan, snake-like body to the surface, everyone realized that it had practically encircled the ship. Men on every side of the boat could see that its coils in the waters surrounding the Nimrod had run around the entire length of the ship, as the creature seemed to be following its own tail. A deepening sense of dread began to permeate as many of the crew realized they had their work cut out for them.

  The captain started to bellow as he readied the harpoon cannon. “I need another man here!”

  One of Glanton’s loyalists ran over, as he began assisting the captain in tying a cable just behind the head of the harpoon. Several of the men along the decks began firing their weapons, but Tyrone figured that it would be useless, a snake that big probably wouldn’t even feel those tiny little bullets hitting its body.

  Pillinger looked back at him. “Tyrone, just go straight ahead, steady now!”

  Tyrone kept the ship’s wheel stable as the Nimrod plowed forward, the ship’s bow was now aimed directly at the serpent’s head. Just as they got to within fifty feet, the creature submerged its head under the water sending out strong, undulating waves to rock the ship from side to side. Pillinger knew he had one chance as he could see the creature diving under the boat, but parts of its body was still submerging, just as they were finally in range.

  Pillinger pressed the trigger as the firing mechanism impacted the cartridge. There was a loud bang as the harpoon was fired and it struck the back part of the snakelike body just as it submerged right in front of them. Almost immediately, the attached whale cable started unrolling along the deck. Pillinger quickly stepped back as his assistant began to reload the harpoon cannon while he made sure the winch that the cable was tied down to was secure on the ship’s superstructure. For a full minute the cable kept discharging until it reached its maximum length, then the line became taut and stiffened.

  There was a loud crash and all of sudden everyone was thrown backwards along the decks as the entire ship listed sideways. Tyrone was able to hang on to the ship’s wheel as everything started to tilt to the right. Several of the crew started screaming. Glanton shouted at the men to grab some spears that were lying in the saloon. Even though the ship was running at full speed, the weight of the great serpent seemed to hold it in place as the right side of the paddlewheel kept revolving helplessly in the air. Pillinger cursed out loud as he struggled to mount another harpoon on the Kongsberg cannon.

  The Sint-Holo raised its head high above the listing starboard side of the ship. Tyrone turned and he stared briefly into the creature’s massive eyes before it lowered its head and bit into a terrified crewmember, tearing the hapless man in half and swallowing his upper body before diving back down into the churning waters once more. Several of the men fired their assault rifles, using full automatic bursts at the beast, but it didn’t seem to have affected it. The creature’s tail lashed out from the water at the aft part of the ship and smashed down onto the spinning paddlewheel and splintered it completely.

  As the ship lurched back and became level once again, Tyrone knew they were done for. The paddlewheel was gone—there was no way they could move. He quickly turned and got out of the pilot house as he made his way down the stairs.

  Glanton noticed and ran up to him as he was drawing his pistol. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, boy?”

  Tyrone didn’t stop as he threw a fist at Glanton’s surprised face. The ship’s first officer took it right on the bridge of his nose and he fell back onto the deck, stunned. Tyrone ran past him and opened the door that led into the corridor. He kept his arms out as he steadied himself, just as the ship began to rock sideways as the monster underneath them began to wrap its massive body along the hull of the Nimrod.

  Pillinger screamed out a curse as he aimed the harpoon at the serpent’s cylindrical torso and fired once more. The massive dart embedded itself on the scaly body but the creature didn’t even seem to feel it. The captain of the stricken ship turned as he opened a wooden crate nearby. Within the container was a set of antique 19th Century whaling harpoons, they were essentially barbed javelins that he had kept as a last ditch resort. Pillinger pulled one out from the crate and hefted it before tying its attached cable to his waistline. The creature was even bigger than he had remembered it, or had it grown larger somehow? Either way, he wasn’t going to allow it to get the better of him this time.

  Tyrone had finally gotten to the door of the captain’s quarters as he fumbled for the key in his pocket. Just as he pulled out the key and was about to place it into the hole, the groaning ship once more tilted to the left and the key clattered away onto the deck and gone from sight. Tyrone cursed out loudly as he tried to kick the door open, but he quickly remembered it had been reinforced. He tried the door to an adjoining room and it opened.

  As he went inside, Tyrone could see that th
e porthole in this room had been torn through when one of those owl creatures tried to force its way into the corridor. He braced himself and then started kicking where the crew had nailed some planks over the hole. His first kick loosened the nails in the patched side of the hull, while the second kick finally tore the whole thing loose just as the entire room he was in tilted sideways and a sliding cabinet pinned him near the side of the door. Tyrone cried out in pain as his ankle was twisted by the heavy wardrobe.

  The serpent’s coils had tightened around the ship’s hull and the Nimrod’s wooden superstructure began to break apart. A number of crewmen were screaming in terror while some of them leaped out into the water as they desperately tried to save themselves. As a few of the crew tried to swim towards the nearby trees, packs of smaller water creatures converged on them and started attacking. More than half a dozen men were pulled under the churning waters, never to be seen again.

  Pillinger hung on until he was able to climb along the upper side of the listing ship. A man of his age would have already given up, but he was possessed by an interminable spirit of vengeance that somehow kept him going. As he finally pulled himself up and stood on what was once the left side of the ship, the creature turned its gargantuan head and stared at him for a long moment. Then the Sint-Holo tilted its head up and roared up into the sky.

  As he prepared to throw the harpoon, Pillinger screamed out a final curse at the monster that had killed his son. It was a phrase he read from an old book about a white whale. It seemed fitting since the nightmare had become real. “From hell’s heart, I stab at thee!”

  The creature seemed to have acknowledged him as it paused its orgy of destruction and lowered its head right after he said it. Pillinger threw the harpoon and it embedded itself near the monster’s left eyelid. The horned serpent made a massive bellow as it tilted its head down, back into the water. Pillinger had the wind knocked out of him as the cable around his waist tightened and it quickly dragged him into the churning depths.

  Tyrone groaned as he was finally able to push back the cabinet and he squeezed himself through the gap. The room had now fully tilted ninety degrees and he could see the water rising as he glanced back at where the door was. He quickly climbed up until he passed through the hole on the side of the room and he was soon standing on the side of the ship’s hull. He could still see the great serpent’s coils slowly tearing the remaining parts of the hull that were still in one piece. Tyrone knew he didn’t have much time as he glanced to his side and saw that the porthole that led into the captain’s cabin was open.

  Steeling himself, Tyrone tried to push his body through the narrow porthole as he led feet first. Just as he got his hips through and tried to slide downwards into the room, his shoulders instantly got stuck in the window. Tyrone let out another curse since his arms were raised over his head and he could no longer push himself through. His legs were left dangling in the air. Tyrone whimpered when he realized that he was stuck fast and couldn’t get himself out of it. The constant crashing noises of the ship breaking apart made him even tenser as he realized that he could very well drown. What a stupid way to die, he thought. Stuck halfway through a porthole in a sinking ship.

  Suddenly, the wood around the metal porthole that held him began to splinter and break apart. In less than a minute, the porthole fell from the wall and Tyrone landed in the captain’s room. Tyrone got up as he pushed down on the now separated porthole and pulled it downwards past his ankles before kicking it away. A series of loud crashing noises hurled him to the side of the room as water began to seep in. Tyrone got back on his feet and looked around until he noticed the ornate wooden box underneath the writing desk. He quickly used both hands to pull it out.

  “Ah, you have returned,” the shrill voice that came from the box said.

  Tyrone could barely catch his breath. “Look, I dunno where the key is, man! How do I get you outta there?”

  “There is more than one way to open a locked box.”

  Tyrone glanced around him. There was a fire axe affixed to the side of the wall. Using both hands, he tore it loose from its fittings and started hacking away at the lock on the box. As the water started cascading around him, he heard an audible click on the lock as he pounded it for the eighth time. Dropping the axe, he fumbled with the lock, then flipped the top part of the box open. As he stared at what was inside of it, he doubled back in surprise.

  Standing in the box was a small, humanlike creature. It seemed to resemble a two foot tall man, only it was covered in brown fur from head to toe. Its large brown eyes were like that of a mouse. It had a flat nose and a small mouth with white teeth.

  Tyrone’s mouth trembled, even as the cabin began to fill with water. “W-what are you?”

  “We can talk about that later,” the little creature said. “I can save you from the others in the water, but you must allow me to ride on your shoulders as I do not like getting wet.”

  Tyrone nodded meekly. He moved forward as the creature placed its tiny hands on his arms. He helped the little being up on his shoulders. “Now what?”

  “Go out through the hole from whence you came,” the creature said. “I hope you know how to swim.”

  Tyrone made his way carefully to the hole where the window was. As the water began filling the room, he was able to climb his way out along the side of the ship as the little furry creature hung on to the back of his neck. It was like carrying a big rat, but Tyrone had a feeling that the creature wasn’t hostile so he decided to play along. He slid down to the edge of the waterline and stared out at the men being attacked in the water.

  “Be not afraid,” the creature whispered in his ear. “You have been chosen and therefore you will not be killed.”

  What was left of the hull shuddered again as the ship started to sink. Tyrone knew he had no choice. He slipped into the water as he made sure the creature was riding high at the back of his neck. Tyrone began to breaststroke slowly, keeping his head and shoulders above the water as he made his way towards the nearest line of trees, ignoring the screams of the dying men all around him.

  By the time evening had fallen, Tyrone was able to cobble together a raft made from the wooden wreckage of the Nimrod. He had hoped that there would be some survivors, but he didn’t find any. The small creature waited patiently as it sat on a tree branch, while he spent a few hours picking up floating planks of wood and lashing them together with some of the loose shark cables. The rains had begun by the time they had set out on the raft. Tyrone was cold and wet, but he knew it was better to go on than to spend the night where they were. He had learned that the creature called itself one of the bohpoli, his kind had begun to reoccupy the swamps and forests of the surrounding lands. When he tried to ask more questions, the creature merely stayed silent.

  Tyrone stood in the center of the small raft as he occasionally used a barge pole to veer the craft away from the trees that popped up along the waterway. A mysterious current was propelling them ever deeper into the sunken forest. He looked down at the impish creature that sat in front of the raft. “Now that we’re moving again, can I ask you something?”

  “You may ask,” the bohpoli said. “But I may not answer.”

  Tyrone shuddered as the cold night air blew by. His clothes were still dripping wet and he was afraid he would catch a cold. “Why did the Master of Breath choose me? I’m nobody special.”

  The creature turned and looked up at him. “That I do not know. All I can sense is that you have something in you.”

  Tyrone was confused. “Something in me? Like what?”

  “I’m not quite sure. I can sense some great power in you. Like some spirit that is about to awaken, but for some reason it cannot yet do so.”

  Tyrone didn’t understand any of it. He felt like a puppet on a string. “This is just weird. I’m doing things like I don’t have any choice. I hate it. I could’ve been killed many times over already.”

  The bohpoli let out a shrill laugh. “Oh but you do hav
e a choice, you have been making choices ever since you took the first step in this journey.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Tyrone said blankly. “It feels like I’m just doing whatever you guys want. I’m just being used and there’s nothing I can do ‘bout it.”

  “Let me ask you, Tyrone Gatlin,” the creature said. “Do you feel you owe your people?”

  Tyrone frowned. “My people? You mean the African American community? I never really thought about it. I was too busy living my life you know?”

  “What I meant is that do you feel that you owe the peoples of these lands? Would you be willing to fight to preserve the communities here?”

  Tyrone looked out into the distance. Despite the darkness all around them, he was able to somewhat see the waters and obstacles ahead of him. It was as if he gained some sort of night vision, as the trees and the water seemed to give off some strange green bioluminescence. “I was in the Army. I tried to fight. In the end, it was no use against those Aztecs. Finally I just gave up and ran. I don’t feel good about it.”

  “If you were given another chance, would you fight to defend the peoples here?”

  “If there was a way I could fight those Aztecs on their terms, sure why not,” Tyrone said wistfully. “I just hate to fight when it’s hopeless.”

  “Then you shall be given that chance,” the bohpoli said. “The Master of Breath has chosen you to be his champion.”

  “Well if I screw up, I hope he ain’t gonna be too disappointed,” Tyrone said. “I have a habit of screwing up.”

  The creature stood up and pointed at something just ahead of them. “Your test will come soon enough. And it may not be what you expect. If you succeed, you will become a medicine man among your people.”