This is intended to go with the "Sword of Islam" story's series. I've watched a lot of terror/horror movies lately, so I'm in the mood. I'll finish this one Wednesday. If you don't like campy campfire tales, don't read this.
October 30th, 1765, during the British crackdown in the Thirteen Colonies...
"Our groupe, confifting of fifteen soldiers of the Crowne, journeyed into His Majesty's colony of North Carolina and were infructed to finde quartering for ourfelves. Off the coaft, our boat, the Anne, far too small to withftand the squall we were in at the moment, did wreck upone the beeches of a small isle off Roanoke Island. Providence saved our lives, we thought, and we started a fire on the beech."
-Journal of Corporal George Wyndham Godson
Corporal Godson and the other fourteen men camped out for the night on the beach, deciding they could wait till morning to find help. The redcoats gathered their belongings from the Anne, including barrels of dry powder, swords, salt pork, and other essentials. Above all, they brought their tattered Union Jack and planted it near their campfire.
In the morning, Godson hollered and woke up the men at 6:00, when the sun was just beginning to rise.
Private Gregory rubbed his eyes and cursed as he forced himself to get up. He put on his jacket, wig, and tricorn and grabbed his gear.
Corporal Godson gruffly asked him a question: " 'Ey, Saunderson, di' yew hear something in the woods las' night, mate?"
Gregory gave a negative. "Nos, Corporal, ah didn't. I hit th' sack an' did noot wake up, ah didn't," he said in his brogue.
"All right, Gregory, guess it was nothin'. Let's move, chaps! Up and at 'em!" Godson whacked Private Williams over the head with his tricorn for being long in getting up. "Get up, yew slugar'!"
Williams, a fellow with a heavy paunch and a love of food, sat up and got ready. Within a few minutes, the camp was picked up and their packs full. They took all the powder they could carry and started off to find help or guides.
"Ah hear there be ah redskin camp som'ere abouts these parts, corporal. Ah bet they could help us get in contact with the army," explained Gregory to Godson.
"Tha' sounds good, mate. I guess we'll take a shot at it."
"Ah wanna get off this cursed place ahs soon as possible. I don't like it one bit. Eerie and queer, says ah."
"Stop that nonsense Gregory, or I'll skin yew alive, I will! Now, all of you follow me. I think I know where this camp might be, judgin' by the topography 'round here."
"I bet he doesn't know the meanin' of 'topography,'" someone snickered.
"Yew shut up, Smith! Now, this way!" Godson and his men took off at a brisk pace through the woods. As the redcoats got deeper and deeper into the forest, they kept feeling more and more lost and bewildered.
"Corporal, do yew know where we are heading?" asked Williams.
"...Of course! I do... indeed. Step lively now!"
At that, the soldiers broke into a trot. The forest was now so thick they had trouble seeing, almost like it was night. The men kept feeling a sense that something was watching them, too. At last, after a good half-hour, Godson called them to a halt. "All right, get a drink, chaps. This stream looks clean." Duffy and Williams, who had lost their canteens in the wreck of the Anne started lapping up the water like thirsty dogs. The others sat down and rested and drank from their canteens. Godson was about to take a gulp when he looked at the reflective surface of the water. Behind him was a short pudgy man in a black suit. In the blink of an eye, he drew his sword, whirled around, and hacked at the man's legs. The man simply leaped up, dodging it casually. Godson grabbed the man's arm, spun him around, and held his rapier at the stranger's neck. The other soldiers grabbed their rifles and looked for more. There were none. Godson shook the man. "Yew're lucky I didn' jus' run yew through, blighter! Never surprise one of the King's men from behind! Who are yew?"
The stranger had short red hair, a ruffled collar, a dark suit, and an antique sword. "Good morning, Corporal. I come to tell you something," he said in a crisp, clear voice.
"What, yew bleedin' son of a biscuit eater?" Godson's patience ran thin.
"The time has come. The annual sacrifice must be made. You must offer the Beast of the Island one of your men. If you do not, all of you shall die. Every ten years, it comes to the Cavern to consume one of the island inhabitants the others have sacrificed. Finally, last year, the last of the natives died or moved. None of the citizens of Roanoke Island Proper come here. This is why. You must sacrifice one to live."
"Well, mate, I suppose that puts yew in a sowry position, don't it? Now, I have half a mind to kill yew right now, you heathen... whate'er yew are! In fact, yew threatened His Majesty's men. I'm going to tie yew to a tree. I'll fix it just so you can eventually wriggle out, but it'll teach yew a lesson."
"Mark my words! One of you must be sacrificed!"
"Oh, shut up."
They tied him to a nearby tree and continued on, Godson convinced of the man's insanity. The other troops, though, were shaking in their boots.
"One o' us has t' be sahcrificed to some pagan monster, eh? Ah don't put no stock in it!" exclaimed Gregory.
"Good for yew, Greg! That's the stuff, ol' bean!" Godson slapped him on the back.
As the soldiers continued, they started to find what appeared to be stone walls. Or, at least, the ruins of stone walls. Next, they suddenly stumbled over a sinister looking carving on a boulder. It showed disemboweled humans that looked like Indian representations of white settlers being eaten by a crudely-drawn monster of some sorts. The soldiers started to worry. They kept finding more and more structures overgrown by foliage.
This entire time, they had followed the stream. Now, they saw water gushing out of a cave. Godson looked around. "I say, is that a woman?!" inquired Private Duffy excitedly. "It is! Huzzah!" He frantically jumped in the stream and tried to reach the cavern.
"'E's gone daft!" shouted Godson. "Anyone else see anything?"
Most of them said no. But one, Williams, said he saw a table of food. He jumped in the water likewise.
Then Godson noticed that Duffy and Williams had drank their entire canteens. "Wait! Don't go in there! The water's poison!"
Duffy and Williams, both seeing what they most desired, food and women, rushed into the cave. Shortly, their blood-curdling screams rang out. "Oh God help me! Ah! Help me!" More screaming. More begging for God to help them while their comrades went pale outside.
Godson stepped in front of everybody. "Do not go in there!" he ordered, readying his musket with shaky hands. "All o' yew, check your muskets!" Once they had done so, Godson had them line up behind him. "All right, for England and for King George, charge!" Upon that order, they rushed the cave. Muskets went off. The only thing visible were the gored remains of their two dead comrades.
Wha' did this?!" cried Gregory, staring at the decapitated head of Williams. He took his eyes off the carnage.
Godson screamed and cussed as loud as possible. He would make sure whoever, or whatever, did it, paid. Godson then noticed a pale, wide-eyed private named Englund staring at the ceiling of the cave, not moving a muscle. When Godson looked up to see what it was, a huge furry creature resembling a man came down and instantly killed Englund. It then turned and brutally jumped on and crushed Private Smith. Screaming at the top of their lungs, the soldiers fled out the cave like men possessed. They never moved this quickly, even in battle.
The creature followed them and leaped up into the trees. It jumped from one limb to another, so agile that its massive weight did not break even weak, small branches. The men shouted, cried, and cursed as they attempted to escape. Williams, Duffy, Englund, and Smith had already been killed, and they had no desire to follow them to that early, bloody, grave. So, now with only ten men under his command, Godson tried to find refuge. The creature followed them, made a jump from one side of the stream to another by swinging on a vine, and grabbed up Private Jenkins.
That made nine left.
To be continued...
LEGO Builder, Writer, Video-Gamer, Greaser, History Professor, Swordsman, and Military Collector. I am the Most Interesting Man in the World. :p
Last edited by Napoleon on Wed Oct 19, 2011 7:07 pm, edited 3 times in total.