to crawl down the lush vegetation, gripping strong vines and branches as it made its descent. Once it reached the jungle floor, it would head toward the beach where it would confirm that these new humans had been slaughtered. If there were stragglers, it would send its brethren out to destroy them. But in the meantime…
…in the meantime, Dagon had to be appeased.
Before the desecration of His holy shrine was discovered.
His reptilian nostrils flared wide and his gills slapped uselessly along the side of his neck. The Elder glanced up at the moon, visible through the clouds, and calculated how long it would be until sunrise. With each passing generation, their kind became more resistant to the light, but they would still need to find shelter before the dawn. He wasn’t worried. If all went according to plan, there would be no further sunrises. Before tomorrow’s dawn, Dagon would be awake and the rains would begin. Soon, the planet would be more hospitable to their kind, and humanity would be extinct.
Half a dozen Dark Ones were gathered around a small pile of human corpses. Their gills smacked wetly together as they rummaged through the bodies. The Elder bleated once at them. The circle must be protected! The Dark Ones answered, then departed to carry out the Elder’s orders, scattering to different corners of the island. Their hive mind was at work now, working as one solid unit, bringing them all together. Their revenge would be fulfilled.
The Elder scanned the beach. Human corpses littered the shore. Some were decapitated, others mutilated beyond recognition, others partially devoured and little more than bubbling froths of flesh due to the Clicker’s potent venom. A few of the humans had been cut in half by the Clicker’s massive claws. As always, the Dark Ones had used the Clickers to their advantage, herding them out of the ocean and up the beach in a mass attack, in some cases using them as mounts to drive the smaller Clickers forward. The element of surprise had been even more apparent here, on Naranu, where the Dark Ones had been living in their most secret of homes, their most remote conclave. For it was here that the secret to the universe lay.
The Elder roared, calling out to his generals. Two of them were close by and they emerged from the jungle’s shadow. One carried a spear never before seen by those who inhabited the surface, dragged up from the depths of the shadow at the bottom of the world. It was a spear crafted by hands far older than those of the first Neanderthal who’d walked the earth—a weapon manufactured by a race of people that had died out long before the natives of Naranu crawled onto the sandy beaches from their makeshift rafts that had carried them here from other neighboring Micronesian Islands.
As the two Dark Ones approached, the first of the island natives appeared on the beach. The Dark Ones turned around and faced them, growing silent as more natives emerged on the beach.
The roaring and screeching of the Dark Ones and Clickers that had chased the last of the new humans into the jungle were growing farther away. Far off in the distance, a tree fell over with a loud crash. Entire groves of vegetation steamed and hissed as they were decimated. There was what sounded like a building being destroyed. The Elder smiled at the sound. It was good. Such structures were a blight upon the island. Perhaps the natives hadn’t anticipated the surprise arrival of dozens of mainlanders, but at the very least, they should have stopped such development from taking place. They should have barred the newcomers from the island, should have driven them off with brute force. But they didn’t, so the Elder had to take action, and now the mainlanders were being slaughtered.
The Elder paid no heed to the screams of the dying coming from the jungle, nor the sound of the roaring of his soldiers and the hissing of the Clickers as they rampaged farther inland. His attention was wholly centered
…in the meantime, Dagon had to be appeased.
Before the desecration of His holy shrine was discovered.
His reptilian nostrils flared wide and his gills slapped uselessly along the side of his neck. The Elder glanced up at the moon, visible through the clouds, and calculated how long it would be until sunrise. With each passing generation, their kind became more resistant to the light, but they would still need to find shelter before the dawn. He wasn’t worried. If all went according to plan, there would be no further sunrises. Before tomorrow’s dawn, Dagon would be awake and the rains would begin. Soon, the planet would be more hospitable to their kind, and humanity would be extinct.
Half a dozen Dark Ones were gathered around a small pile of human corpses. Their gills smacked wetly together as they rummaged through the bodies. The Elder bleated once at them. The circle must be protected! The Dark Ones answered, then departed to carry out the Elder’s orders, scattering to different corners of the island. Their hive mind was at work now, working as one solid unit, bringing them all together. Their revenge would be fulfilled.
The Elder scanned the beach. Human corpses littered the shore. Some were decapitated, others mutilated beyond recognition, others partially devoured and little more than bubbling froths of flesh due to the Clicker’s potent venom. A few of the humans had been cut in half by the Clicker’s massive claws. As always, the Dark Ones had used the Clickers to their advantage, herding them out of the ocean and up the beach in a mass attack, in some cases using them as mounts to drive the smaller Clickers forward. The element of surprise had been even more apparent here, on Naranu, where the Dark Ones had been living in their most secret of homes, their most remote conclave. For it was here that the secret to the universe lay.
The Elder roared, calling out to his generals. Two of them were close by and they emerged from the jungle’s shadow. One carried a spear never before seen by those who inhabited the surface, dragged up from the depths of the shadow at the bottom of the world. It was a spear crafted by hands far older than those of the first Neanderthal who’d walked the earth—a weapon manufactured by a race of people that had died out long before the natives of Naranu crawled onto the sandy beaches from their makeshift rafts that had carried them here from other neighboring Micronesian Islands.
As the two Dark Ones approached, the first of the island natives appeared on the beach. The Dark Ones turned around and faced them, growing silent as more natives emerged on the beach.
The roaring and screeching of the Dark Ones and Clickers that had chased the last of the new humans into the jungle were growing farther away. Far off in the distance, a tree fell over with a loud crash. Entire groves of vegetation steamed and hissed as they were decimated. There was what sounded like a building being destroyed. The Elder smiled at the sound. It was good. Such structures were a blight upon the island. Perhaps the natives hadn’t anticipated the surprise arrival of dozens of mainlanders, but at the very least, they should have stopped such development from taking place. They should have barred the newcomers from the island, should have driven them off with brute force. But they didn’t, so the Elder had to take action, and now the mainlanders were being slaughtered.
The Elder paid no heed to the screams of the dying coming from the jungle, nor the sound of the roaring of his soldiers and the hissing of the Clickers as they rampaged farther inland. His attention was wholly centered
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