The cricket’s nocturnal song was the only familiar sound giving them a hint of comfort as they waded through the swamp, cutting down the overgrown leaves and protruding roots upon their path. The moon’s bluish-grey glow made the foreign land seem more exotic than they had imagined, yet the sight of skeletons reaching out from the ground for help dispelled any notion that they were holidaying.
K K Ameyo
K K Ameyo is a creator of worlds and gatekeeper to ancient mythologies and tales. He often visits mythical lands so he may share bodacious stories with you. Come along; you may find something new.
As the village dreamt, one little girl, Rehema, was woken up by what sounded like thunder. Sensing the rain, she ran to check the windows in her parents’ room. They were sealed shut. She then walked back to her bed to ensure her room’s window was shut, right before the thunder cracked louder, followed almost immediately by a bright yellow light that pierced through the blinders.
His appeals fell on deaf ears as the captain, having waded till the water was at his waist, hurled the boy into the sea and made his way back to the shore. The boy tried to follow, but a horridly disfigured entity emerged from behind him, wrapping its blue, tattooed arms around him and sinking its teeth into the boy’s neck. He wriggled and fought, screamed and cried as loud as he could, but as the blood drained from his body, he felt limp from one limb to the other, his voice choked back by the blood gurgling in his throat.
The warm orange glow of the street lights complemented the humdrum of the city that had just woken up to flashily dressed youngins who graced every liquor store in sight, trying to find the cheapest happiness they could, all encountering disapproving elders that mused on the waywardness of the youth of today while visiting the said establishments.
I stood in the middle of the room, looking at the open door, at the chipped tile. The memories of that horrifying night flooded my mind. All that blood, all that pain. Tears welled in my eyes. It wasn’t deserved, it wasn’t right what they did. But what was right was what came to them. All of them.
The rooster ran out of the coop, jumped onto the pole, and puffing its chest out, cried out to the twilight heavens with all its might. Then, it looked down at the sleeping village, looked up, and cried out again just as the group was leaving its gates towards the Ung’ Mountains, where the sun nearly woke.