Break time! I want to use this week to share an experiment.
A friend and I were testing the waters to see if we could collaborate a series of horror/sci-fi stories about the Columbus voyages. The assignment was to use one situation and write two points of view, and we chose a flying beast for the monster. I admit, I am not a creative writer, so feel free to offer feedback and thoughts. I hope this will inspire you to branch out and write about something you have to research or write in a genre you are new to. This is the first of two, and don’t miss the second one on Monday!
It has been a quiet journey so far. That is until last night. The men say that a young man named Juan Lopez, also known as Little Juan, is missing. There are only a few accounts of what happened, but I spoke to Carlos Sanchez, a crewman aboard the Santa Maria. Here is his story…
The sea was angry. The skies were black as death itself, and the rain came crashing down on us with waves crashing around us from below. The ship rode the waves as best it could, but we fought to keep it afloat and stay on board. Men were running around everywhere. It seemed to go on for days. This storm was violent and enraged, and I knew we may lose our men. The sky lit up with revenge and roared like a hungry beast. We could barely hear our orders, and I thought it would never end.
I prayed. I asked God to spare the men and ship. Our journey was long, and we had much work to do. We needed every man we had for these travels.
Then my prayers were answered. The rain stopped, and the waves calmed. God heard my pleas and cries; He had a plan for us and our ship. We were safe again. But only for a moment.
Little Juan was missing. Some say he fell overboard during the storm. Others say he is hiding somewhere on the ship, but I know the creature took him. The creature no one could see. Men say I’m crazy, but I must tell you what happened. I have nothing to hide, and I know we are in danger.
After the storm, the waters were calm and Little Juan climbed in the crow’s nest to make sure the ship was in a path free of rocks or land. He was keeping a watchful eye and only supposed to be up there a short time. The few of us who were left working were watching him while cleaning after surviving the raging waters.
With no warning it became very cold. I could feel the sweat on my brow freeze as the night became silent. It was as if I had gone deaf; there was no sound, not even the sails or the creaks of the ship. I looked at Little Juan, and he looked as frozen as an iceberg. His eyes were wide with fear.
We all stood still, feeling as if death had wrapped its cold hands around our necks. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to, but the air hurt going in my mouth. I clutched the cross that hangs around my neck. I heard something in the distance, something that sounded like a person in unbearable pain. It was a faint scream; maybe a cry. Whatever it was, it wasn’t coming from our ship. It was coming from the sky.
The night sky rose open above us, and we could see as far as our eyes would allow. There was a loud crash of noise. It wasn’t a noise I have ever heard; it was so monstrous that even nature herself would tremble. It was the noise of something angry, something hungry. Something hungry for a soul.
It was the sound of the devil itself. With the rumble, we sailed into a great fog. It came out of nowhere!
I was pouring in sweat, but my hands were so frozen they could barely move. My filthy hands glowed white with fear. I began to pray again. Something evil was coming, and it was coming fast. Most of the crew was below, so the few of us left laid there on the deck cowering for mercy. I could no longer see anything; the air was so thick I just laid there holding my legs close to me praying that we wouldn’t be lost to the sea.
I worried about Little Juan. I never saw him come down, and it all happened so fast. I felt rage in the air; a kind of evil only a man knows. I know I heard a scream from the distance, but I never saw him fall or the demon that took him. He was gone. I shouted for him, but no one could hear my cries; I couldn’t hear my own screams.
The fog began to clear, and I knew it was over. Fear consumed me, and I looked myself up and down to make sure I was not missing anything. My legs, as numb as they were, were still there. My cross was imprinted into my hand. I slowly picked myself up and looked around. We were all confused. My body hurt from the cold.
I asked if anyone was hurt; everyone seemed like they were dead. I looked up to the nest, and Little Juan was gone. I yelled for him. We searched what we could. Other men came up and asked what happened. Panic set into some, but some don’t even remember him being in the crow’s nest, but he was there. He was supposed to come down. He wasn’t supposed to be the sacrifice.
For extra fun check out this Cinemassacre video for The Giant Claw, which I kept in mind while writing these stories.
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