The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 46

The Island of Hispaniola

Some days and some moons later. Sometime after all the smoke has cleared. Time passes, and it moves along like the rushing of the wind: Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

He was a small, portly black boy with the looks of a ten year old. His dreadlocks hung partially over his eyes which in turn always seemed to cause his vision to appear blurry with every waking morn. With only a brown rag covering his midsection the child blundered out of the mouth of his cave home and onto the bright morning shore where the sun glistened down upon the white sands of the beach.

The little barefooted boy stepped lightly upon the hot sands towards a large rock that towered well over a hundred feet above him. Leaning up against the rock was a sharp pole which the boy promptly grabbed before heading further down the beach where the roaring waves brushed against his feet until he arrived at a nearby lagoon. The lagoon itself was a peaceful and secluded slice of the island that the boy held in the highest regard. It was always the first place he went in the morning and the last he visited at night before turning in. The rest of the island, from his standpoint, was inconsequential. Nothing existed beyond the lagoon.

As he approached the lush, blue pond, the boy, with his pole, stopped short of the sparkling water to take a long gander upwards at the glowing, blue sky and the sun that shined within it. At the edge of the lagoon the boy could already see the pupfish swimming carelessly inside the luscious, blue water. The deeper he ventured towards the lagoon the more distant the sound of the sea's waves behind seemed to become. With as many pupfish as his eyes could see all at once the boy couldn't seem to make up his mind as to where to begin. He just randomly picked one particularly clear spot within the water and started spearing. With not much precision in his aim the child stabbed his spear into the water as hard as he could in the hopes of tagging at least one or two fish for breakfast that morning.

It took countless minutes for him to poke one before it managed to swim away leaving only a trickling trail of blood in its wake. Time and time again he shot at the water before at last managing to snag one. With a subdued smile the child pulled his spear out of the water before taking the fish off its sharp end and placing its quivering body on the ground behind him.

Back at it once again, except by then the boy's right arm was becoming lethargic. He was happy for the one fish, but if he were able to grab more then it would have been a king's ransom as far as he was concerned. After about five tries he managed to stab another fish and another after that one. One by one he gathered the two fish and sat them beside the already dead one before taking another shot. He suddenly spotted one particularly large fish that he just knew would possibly keep him well sated throughout not only the rest of the day, but the next as well. The boy followed the fish as it swam from one end of his vicinity to the other. The child chased after the thing until he managed to corner it by a rock.

Like a madman the boy repeatedly jabbed his spear into the water, trying in vain to at least injure the fish. When he saw that the fish was trapped, the boy seized the moment by placing his left foot into the warm water for a more stable footing before he rammed his spear straight in. The boy had stabbed something, and it was quite large. He had to think for a moment or two and remember the size of the thing to begin with. Its weight shouldn't have been much of an issue, but for the strangest reason trying to pull his spear up and out of the water seemed so laborious.

The child pulled and pulled until both his spear and his own body went flying backwards onto the ground. The boy looked up to see a form bubble up from out of the water. Gradually, he sat up to gain a more precise view of what was taking place. At first thought he figured it to a much larger fish that he had managed to seize, but there was something unusually odd about its form. The fish seemed to possess a human's hand and a head.

The boy never shook, nor was he the slightest bit afraid, but that didn't mean he would've just up and ran towards the thing. Instead, he got to his feet and cautiously approached the figure that was slowly

drifting towards the grass. The boy took one of the arms that was covered in a mess of seaweed and heaved it out of the water. Before long, however, even more of a mystery began to take shape.

The thing didn't seem to have much weight to it. All that the boy was able to bring out was only the upper half of a dead, black man's body. No legs seemed to be attached. The boy just stood and stared down at the gooey and decaying cadaver with blank eyes before he turned and looked back at the sea behind him. He then knelt down and examined the corpse from side to side and from front to back. Its eyes were completely white; no pupils could be seen within them. The clothes, or what was left of them, were torn to bits, as was the body's left arm which had a huge gash bitten all the way in.

The boy then caught a glimpse of the body's head that appeared as if it were about to fall right off from its shoulders. From the neck the boy went back to the face, namely the mouth. He boy opened wide the mouth to find nothing but two rows of sharp fangs. Instantly, the boy backed away from the body and just stood above it in silent repulsion. His face was a picture of total stillness while his heart thumped so hard and loud.

The boy looked down at his fish breakfast and then back over at the corpse. Then, without muttering a single word the child reached down and dragged the half body by the arm out of the lagoon and onto the beach for about half a mile until he reached his cave. At first, the cave was dark. The darkness continued for nearly an entire minute before light could be seen. Inside a small corner of the cave were tiny candles that were all lit up in various spots of the dwelling. There was already a bonfire blazing right in the middle.

The sweating boy simply dropped the body onto the ground before he went over to what appeared to be a makeshift, rock shelf where two bowie knives, a red, rubber ball and a cracked mirror were all stored. He then sat and stared at the dead man and his unusual mouth that seemed to fascinate him to no end. The hard staring lasted at least fifteen whole, silent minutes. After that, the boy dragged the rest of the body into the fire and stood back while it burned away.

The odor of searing flesh consumed the cave enough to where even the boy had to cover his nose and mouth. Its abundant stench seemed to engulf the senses in a way that burning flesh hadn't before. Even the smoke itself was leaving the cave as small whispers could be heard inside the boy's residence. Not even he could decipher what they were saying, but he knew they were speaking to him.

***

After about an hour, the boy took the skeletal remains out of the fire and finished relieving the remainder of the skin off of the body with one of his bowie knives. Once that was complete, all that was left was an entirely fresh skeleton with a set of fangs that the boy made double sure to polish extra clean. With all of its weight completely vanquished the boy was able to easily carry the remains down another corridor of the cave that was lit up by candlelight as well.

The child, with the half skeleton cradled in his arms, stood for a moment and just looked up and around at his surroundings before going for a wooden ladder that rested to the side of the cave. Placed on the ground beside the ladder were makeshift wooden nails and a large rock. The boy took the ladder and leaned it against the cave's wall before taking the nails and rock and ascending just fifteen feet up the ladder.

From there he took two of the nails and pounded them straight into the cave's walls. He then climbed back down and took the skeleton before going right back up again and perching the thing onto the nails. In a crucifix-style, both arms were spread wide open while the head hung down. The boy, completely spent, climbed back down and examined his accomplishment. From one end of the cave to the other was all of his work. Countless human skeletons, from adults to children, all nailed to the walls, with the most mysterious of them all, the fanged one, perched directly in the middle. The boy stood and gazed for a few moments before he went and snuffed out all of the candles. Once he was done with that detail, he left the cave altogether.

All of the skeletons were left in the blackness, all that is, expect for one. That particular one managed to be the only one that was able to gain a small spark of sunlight that was fortunate enough to be able to poke in from the outside.

Only its fangs seemed to be visible. Only its fangs...and a thin, black ooze that slowly drooled down from out of its open jaw.