Devil Man of the Hollow
By Paul Melniczek

* * * *

Our expedition reached the top of a craggy hillside which had impeded progress for most of the day. Drenched with sweat, arms and hands bloodied from the brush, our trek had not been a pleasant one. The mostly British group consisted of twelve men, including myself and four hired locals to lead us through this relatively unfamiliar region of the jungle. We were skirting the edge of the present frontier, and now walked in areas that none of our race had ever seen before.

We were the first - the toughest breed among men, explorers of the vast jungle, and heirs to the fortunes that lay in wait beyond the horizon.

“All right. We break among those rocks near the top. Move out.”

Exhausted and bruised, the men continued in the direction I had pointed. I was parched with thirst and my stomach groaned for a reprieve, but one learns to ignore such inconveniences if he wishes to survive long in the jungle, and I had been ignoring them for the past seven years.

As we gathered around an outcropping of a few boulders, I noticed a change in our guides. They had led us through numerous miles of some of the deepest undergrowth we had ever seen without so much as a hint of uncertainty. These natives knew the land and were in communion with its nature. To exist in such a harsh climate demanded respect and understanding - they possessed both. There could be no mistakes for an error in the jungle meant death. You needed to gain that knowledge of survival by watching the ones who had persevered and still continued to do so. But now I sensed a conflict of wills being waged between our guides and my man Robinson, so I walked into their midst.

“I say, is there some confusion here?”

“There does seem to be a problem, sir,” Robinson answered. “The trail forks and goes off in different directions.”

I followed his gaze and saw a fork in the trail several dozen yards ahead. The main path went in a southerly route and the smaller path branched to the left almost due east, which was the general vicinity of our destination.

The path edged about the ridge we had come over, then made its way down the other side into a hollow filled with lush vegetation. The hollow did not appear to be impassable by any means, and I needed to make some good time here.

Robinson was peering at the map with disdain, the long mustache on his weathered face drooping with disapproval. He shook his head and spoke to Chatra, the guide leader. Chatra was pointing at two of his men who were staring into the hollow. When I considered this later, the two had been shifting their fingers in very strange fashion, and I had overlooked it at the time. Queer, I had thought. If only I had taken heed. The movements had been warding-off gestures to whatever presence they feared in the hollow below.

“These two chaps refuse to go down this path, despite the fact that we will probably save over a day getting to the village, maybe more from the look of it. You can even see the lip of the next ridge. Can’t be more than two days march from here, if that.” Robinson gave me a hard look of confidence and waited for my agreement.

“Well then, what reason do these fellows give for such reluctance? Head hunters? Never any mention before of such. Why won’t Chatra keep them in line now?”

Robinson shook his head. “They are not from his village, but a smaller one down south. They will take the main path or start home.”

“What? Did you tell them they would forfeit their pay? What think they of that?”

But Robinson had threatened the two already. “They will not change their minds. They insist on going south, and say that we enter the hollow at great peril.” As Robinson spoke, he snatched phrases from Chatra for the translation, a guttural dialogue, one that I only partially understood.

“Sir, it seems that this hollow is some sort of taboo land for them.” He looked at me with a slight scowl, which indicated growing annoyance. Robinson had been with me for a long time and I trusted his instinct.

“Ah, some superstitious nonsense. These natives create the most horrific stories and scare the wits out of themselves. There is no end to the tales they weave. Tell Chatra to offer an additional days’ wage, and let’s end this rubbish.” 

Robinson beseeched the leader once again but the two held firm. I looked back at the others who were relaxing in the afternoon heat, sitting beneath a small grove of trees. All except for Crane, who had been kneeling on one leg, hand shading his eyes as he stared down to the valley floor.

Crane was a reserved and soft-spoken fellow. The man never once complained and would lend a hand wherever the need was. His family was well off, and he had more education than the rest of the group. His background made him more distinguished than the other men, but once they became acquainted, a strong friendship had been forged between them. I turned to see how Robinson had fared and the look on his face gave me the answer.

“Well now, if they are so afraid then let them leave,” I said. “But what say our man Chatra? Will he go too?”

“No, sir. He says that the tribes around here believe in strange things. He scoffs at such talk. I believe Chatra has spent enough time with civilized men like us that he isn’t frightened by jungle spirits anymore.”

Chatra stood with his arms folded, his face impassive as usual. There was not an ounce of humor to be found in the tough native. A natural leader of his people, he made an imposing figure. Tall, broad of chest, rippling muscles - these features created an aspect of granite about the man. Immovable, unemotional. Wishing to quench my thirst, I opened my water flask and drank deeply. I peered over the rim and watched as Crane approached.

“Sir.”

“What is it, Crane?” There was an odd look on the man’s face. He appeared a bit unwell.

“May I have a word with you?” I walked over to him. “Certainly, man. Are you feeling all right?” Crane pulled at his shirtsleeve nervously. Something was bothering him. 

“Well, I don’t quite know how to answer that question. Maybe feel is the wrong word.” The look on his face was puzzling. “Could be there is some truth in what those two fellows are saying.” Crane met my gaze unflinchingly. Here was another that I could rely on, one who wasn’t prone to spook at fairy tales.

“Come now, Crane.” I replied. “Surely you’re not going to say that there is truth in this tale? Too much heat, maybe? You look a shade pale.”

He shook his head. Crane was the youngest of us but had knowledge beyond his twenty-five years. “No, not at all. This hollow has a strange taste to it. I was trying to put my finger on, but I don’t know…”

“What do you think, then? Head hunters? Apes? We can take care of these. Have before. Is this your worry?” But my guesses were well off the mark.

“No. I would feel better actually if it were such things. Do you know how the jungle always is so full of activity, vibrant? There is a natural order here, and it pulsates with life. And now, this is hard to put into words, but the hollow seems dead. Yes, we can see the plants and trees, but nothing else. There are no birds or animals to be seen. And further yet, although you may think me odd, I have the feeling that we are being watched. By who or what, I don’t know.”

As I listened to his words, my gaze searched the hollow. There did seem to be a lack of game, but that would point to a large predator. A pride of lions, maybe. To be sure, we would take extra caution. That could be the rationale behind the reluctance of the two men. Probably some unfortunate natives had fallen prey to the beasts. It didn’t take much in these parts for a new legend to find root.

Even so, scanning the jungle gave me the peculiar sensation that there was indeed something observing us. I attributed the cause to the anxiety of the others and brushed off the notion at once, deciding that we best move ahead by the quickest means possible, and that meant through the hollow. The last thing we needed was to second-guess ourselves after we had come so far.

I clapped the man on the back and told him my plan. He was to continue south with our two reluctant guides and stick to the main trail. Another of our group would accompany him and they would make sure those two earned their pay. That left seven men led by Chatra and myself to cut through the hollow and map out a better path for the next company. It was settled.

Robinson and Chatra conversed with the guides and the other men prepared to move on. “Sir, you won’t reconsider?” Crane had a look of concern across his youthful features. “Perhaps we can gather a larger group from the village to better search this hollow.”

For a brief second, I hesitated, but then my overconfidence came to light.

“My good fellow, I will see you safely on the other side of this bowl. If there is a lion, we will carry his head up to the village and stake it for all to see. The tables will be set and the meat hot, as the rest of us await your arrival. Stray not from the trail and we will meet before the new moon shines again.”

With that, we wished all good fortune and once again were on the march.

It was a few hours later when we had descended into the hollow and reached the bottom. The way down was not too difficult, but the path was, at times, hard to follow. There were a number of fallen trees to climb over, and one needed to be ceaselessly vigilant against the presence of the many poisonous snakes that made the jungle their home.

In the lead were Chatra and Robinson. These men were born trackers. Next followed Edward and Landers, both seasoned hunters and skilled in the ways of the deep jungle. Landers was tall and thin, with several scars on his face from combat. Quick as a cat he was. Edward was a giant of a man, six and a half feet at least. The sight of him alone in several villages was enough to demand their instant respect as he walked among the natives, towering over them.

After this pair came Jamie and Woods, the two with the shortest amount of experience in the wild but still good men. I followed next and the other guide, Saric, followed me. We were in hunting formation, with our middle flanking out furthest. My position in the party enabled me to maximize action against any situation that arose.

Evening was drawing near and our group made decent time. Nothing untoward had occurred and all thoughts of the unusual were at rest. The air was becoming a bit cooler and this was a welcome change from the oppressive heat. The mood was light and some of the men started singing an old drinking song. This did not bother me, as long as they stayed alert for potential hazards.

They had been singing for a good while, when I slowly began to feel uneasy. I have always placed trust in my own senses, would that I had done so with someone else’s.

I surveyed our formation; everything was satisfactory.

Shifting my gaze skyward, I could make out the dim glimmer of early evening stars as they began to dot the heavens. It was getting late. A suitable campsite would have to be picked shortly, but I was certain our lead men had already started to search for one. The foliage in this area was not too badly overgrown, so they would more than likely call for a halt soon. The men were still singing and in good spirits, and they remained observant.

Then it struck me.

It was the singing that bothered me, for there was no other sound to be heard. Since we had traveled deeper into the hollow, there hadn’t been any of the normal jungle noises one grew accustomed to. No birds, insects, or wildlife. Maybe during the descent there had existed some activity, but now there was none.

Was I the only one of us to notice?

I peered over my shoulder to check on Saric. His face confirmed my own disquiet. He gave me a knowing look, and his eyes darted nervously left and right. The native looked back into the jungle we’d left behind, and then he stopped. Immediately I gave a quick whistle, and my men ceased their movement.

With the singing now ended, a deathly quiet fell on the surrounding jungle. There was no other sign of life besides our own to be heard. We were intruders in a hostile land - my apprehension grew.

“Men, hold guard.” Robinson made his way back towards me as the group attained a defensive posture. I reached Saric’s side as the native crouched down. His hunting knife was clenched in his hand and he looked like a cat ready to spring. 

“Sir, what is…” My swift gesture silenced Robinson instantly. I pointed to Saric and he understood my caution. Slowly Robinson crept back to us and went to the native’s side. In hushed tones he spoke in the tribal dialect for several moments. They both peered intently into the jungle behind us, and spoke some more. I turned to check on the others but all seemed to be in order. No one had dropped their vigilance.

By now it was almost fully dark, and a slight mist rose sluggishly amongst the undergrowth. It had an eerie effect on our minds coupled with the lack of any sounds reaching our ears.

Some of the men started to become restless, and what had been a strong and confident force only minutes ago was now experiencing pangs of self-doubt and trepidation. The atmosphere was laden with tension - it was palpable. Invisible tendrils of fear reached out of the encircling darkness, searching for a foothold to latch onto. A weakened spirit can lead to panic and despair in the great jungle. I had seen it before.

Robinson left Saric’s side and approached. He seemed unnerved, and that worried me. “What is it, man?” I asked him. “What does he see?”

“He’s not sure what it is, but Saric is convinced we are being followed. Even more so, we are being hunted by something. It is noiseless and out of sight, but there can be no doubt. He does not understand the nature of this creature or its purpose, but it tracks us. Ever since sundown.”

His words sent a cold shiver through me. I had known the answer before it had been spoken.

“Did he see it? Maybe we can identify the beast, then perhaps ensnare it.”

Robinson ran his hand absently over the rifle he shouldered and considered his reply.

“Saric said that he caught a quick glimpse of it. About half an hour back he became aware of something, but whenever he looked there was nothing to be seen, so he tried an old hunter’s trick and turned back around a tree to disguise his intentions.”

He paused uncomfortably.

“Out with it, man.” I growled. “Look around - it grows late.”

“Well, what he says he saw wasn’t an animal.”

“Native, head hunter?” I queried. Robinson shook his head.

“Well then, confound it.” My patience was eroding. “What did Saric think it was?” The jungle was darkening swiftly, and with the thickening mist, the men would be wondering what our intention was.

“Saric said the creature was man-shaped, but looked tall and lean. It was black as the night, without any color. A pair of yellow eyes stared straight at him. It had a tail, and on its head were horns…”

Chills crawled down my back as a sudden horror reached out to my heart. The next question was a terrible one, but I had to ask it.

“Robinson, when those two chaps refused to come with us, what exactly did they fear?” I dreaded his answer. Robinson’s eyes grew wide.

“They said there was a devil man in the hollow…”

We both looked back at Saric who still had not moved. I told Robinson that camp must be made, but a light one. There would be little sleep tonight. He and Chatra had noticed a small clearing just ahead and were going to suggest this before our pause. I sent him forward and told the men to move slowly onward, on full alert. I was not convinced of what Saric had seen, but I knew he had seen something.

As the men resumed the march, I went back to Saric. He very carefully stood up, and pointed towards a thick clump of bushes about forty yards to our rear. I looked intensely but saw nothing. I strained my eyes for at least a minute and then suddenly I spotted a figure.

There was a deeper shadow within the shadows, and I caught a pair of yellow pinpricks - unflinching, gazing directly at us.

My breathing became heavier and I reached for my rifle, never taking my eyes off what we were seeing. As I slowly moved my weapon forward, the eyes vanished and the shadow was gone.

The temptation to fire off a shot into the brush was great, but discretion did not allow for it. The men would be alarmed, and I needed all their resources as intact as possible. In all my experience in the wild, I had never seen something move so quickly and quietly. What had we spotted?

I touched the guide on his shoulder and nodded ahead to where the rest had gone. I did not want to be left too far behind. The two of us headed out but Saric walked facing backwards. He was not going to let himself become exposed to the elusive creature stalking us, so we made our way slowly toward the clearing. When at last we neared it, Robinson and Edward had made sure that we did not get too far back and joined in our progress without speaking.

The trees opened up and there was a decent patch of low grass that was suitable for setting camp. The men had unpacked the bare essentials, and a good-sized fire was burning as we entered the area. This was not too far off the path, and we could regain it with ease the next day. The night sky was becoming increasingly difficult to see, as the mist did not let up. I wanted four men on watch at all times. There would be no surprises while the others slept, if rest could be found at all.

I wanted either Chatra or Saric awake through dawn at least. Their jungle skills were at levels that none of us outsiders could ever attain to. Neither questioned the order - they realized that we were dealing with an unknown creature here. They spoke for a while in their native tongue and seemed to agree on something. Saric went to one of the camp perimeters and held a rifle in his lap. Edward, Jamie, and Woods posted the other corners, while myself and Robinson held a conference. The other two now lay in repose.

“You saw it then.” Robinson said.

I nodded grimly. “Never seen such a strange beast. Didn’t get much of a look, just the outline and those penetrating eyes. If I wouldn’t know any better, it seemed to be measuring us somehow. Brought my gun to sight, and it disappeared in a flash. Gone in an instant. Anything that can move with such speed is deadly, not to be underestimated.”

Robinson could only nod his head in agreement. “Well then, until we know what manner of creature we are dealing with, there can be no lowering of caution while in this hollow. Could be a species undiscovered before. That explains the native’s fear. Whether or not it is dangerous we don’t know, and hopefully will never find out. Although, one beast against an armed company is at a great disadvantage.”

His words made sense, but did little to ease my concerns. True, we did have firepower and a numbers advantage, as long as there did not exist others of the creature, but it was the nature of what we were dealing with that worried me. Probable intelligence, speed and agility, and foremost, we were trespassing in its domain. These were all equalizers in the field. I knew not to what side the odds favored. That bothered me. 

I told Robinson to get some rest; we would both have a chance at watch later. He went off, and I surveyed the camp. The encircling trees were impenetrable in the darkness. My men remained on post, weapons ready.

The silence was chilling.

Not a single night bird to be heard. The jungle pressed in on us from all sides waiting to forever swallow up any who dared venture beyond the perimeter of our camp. The air felt heavy and thick with anticipation, the dampness seeping into our clothes. I observed all these things, and realized then that we should never have stepped foot into the hollow.

This valley was somehow unnatural. The world known to us had been left behind. We had been warned and chose to ignore the warning. What price would we have to pay?

Well, I had to at least try to get some sleep. A tired man makes mistakes, and there was no room for any down here in the hollow.

I began to make my way to the fire glancing over at Saric, and froze instantly. The native now stood and was staring up at the trees in front of himself, raising the sights of his gun. I followed his gaze and saw a pair of yellow, unblinking eyes in the branches. But before I could bring my own weapon around, they vanished. I walked over to Saric as he now was aiming to fire, but there was nothing visible.

Our movements had caught the attention of the others, and they were now looking our way. At that moment the silence was broken by a bloodcurdling howl from the trees, and everyone sprang to their feet.

A shadowy figure erupted without warning from the jungle opposite Saric and myself, and went directly at Edward. The creature moved with amazing speed as it grabbed the big man and leapt back into the trees carrying the large man as if he were weightless.

It happened so fast that no one had time to react.

There was a brief scream of anguish and we knew Edward was gone.

Jamie and Woods started firing rounds from their rifles in the general area but there was no more movement or noise.

“Wait, stop firing!” Robinson was bellowing to the men. They were shooting blindly and in near panic. “Hold on!” Chaos took hold for a few moments as the men continued shooting. Robinson ran up to them to restore some order.

As soon as this had taken place, Chatra had picked up a flaming brand and scanned the trees in all directions. Saric never took his eyes off the tree line for a second. 

“No firing!” I yelled. “Keep alert for the beast! If we panic now, we are lost!”

Robinson came to my side. “What type of demon is this? I’ve never seen such speed! It carried Edward off like a sack of flour!”

Chatra yelled over to Robinson for a few seconds. “What does he say?” Robinson’s face looked hideously pale in the flickering firelight.

“He thinks this is all a trap. The creature distracted us. It was no accident that it chose Edward. It went after the biggest and strongest of us first.”

His words only added to my horror. If this creature had such cunning, there was no way of gauging its next move. The big hunter was taken out so quickly that the shock of it had not sunk in yet.

“Come on, man, pull yourself together.” I looked over to see Jamie shaking with terror, and Landers was trying to snap him out of it. Jamie was mumbling incoherently and appeared to be in great distress. Meanwhile, Chatra had thrown numerous flaming branches all around the camp to increase our visibility.

The whole setting had an unreal quality to it. Such a creature should not exist. Could not exist. We were in a living nightmare without waking. There would be no help from the outside world.

A shot suddenly rang out in the night. I lifted my gun and saw Woods firing into the trees. Robinson was also firing, and now Landers was aiming. I wasn’t sure what they saw, but hoped they had found a target.

Round after round went off and I scanned the clearing, seeing nothing. The two natives moved their rifles up but were looking elsewhere. At this point, Jamie had been forgotten and I saw him staggering apparently in a daze, dangerously close to the brush to the left of Robinson.

“Robinson!” I yelled out over the gunfire but wasn’t heard. I started over towards them and now Jamie was only yards from the bushes.

Before my eyes I saw a long vine whip out from between two trees and lassoed around the man’s head. He jerked forward like a puppet and flew into the air at least a dozen yards; his neck broken instantly.

I screamed in rage and fired into the jungle, emptying my rifle.

After several moments, all the firing stopped. Robinson yelled for everyone to hold their weapons and he slowly walked towards the body of Jamie. “Cover me, be alert!” Robinson moved forward in a half crouch, gun ready to fire. He hesitated as he reached Jamie, and pulled him back slowly with one arm.

There was no movement.

I had reloaded and was hoping to catch some glimpse of this monster, but it remained hidden. We all kept our eyes fixed on the jungle, but there was no hint of it anywhere. Our only choice was to wait and pray for sunrise.

One cannot imagine the incredible fear that we faced those dreadful hours until dawn. The cold terror, the shadows we thought we saw, noises we thought we heard. Several times there were shots fired by one of us, and we expected another attack, but none materialized. The creature was temporarily satisfied, but now our number was diminished to five. Who would be the next victim?

As the first ray of light streamed over the jungle canopy, we breathed a little easier. The horror of the night lingered - blanketing our minds, shrouding our spirits, but it was finally time for action. With three still guarding, the rest quickly packed up and we were ready to move. There was no hesitation as we cut straight into the jungle towards the path. Our only chance was to try and leave the hollow as soon as possible in the hope that the creature only came out at nightfall.

Chatra believed that if we followed the trail, we would reach the opposite end of the valley within several hours, so we moved forward at a generous pace. The path led in the direction we felt would bring us out of there, so we continued.

The morning wore on as our group pressed forward through the trees, and as before there was not a sign of any living animal. Now the truth was known. There was no beast alive that would be a match for this deadly predator. It was gaining on midday when I started to wonder if the trail would lead us out. There still was no hint of any incline, and the valley seemed endless. The morning remained uneventful but I wanted to be well out of the hollow by afternoon.

We trudged onward without rest, tired and silent. Everyone shared the same thoughts. The events of the previous night had drained us emotionally and physically. Sheer force of will and fear drove us forward.

It was early afternoon when the company halted unexpectedly. I was still in the rear with Saric when the terrain became softer but seemed to have a slight incline. I believed we were nearing the other side at last. The vegetation was incredibly thick here and the path narrowed sharply. A mist started to form around us and the air grew damp. Our visibility decreased sharply when the trackers stopped and called for me to come forward. As I made my way to the front, the brush opened up and I let out a gasp.

The path abruptly ended into a vast bog with no end in sight, blocking our forward progress. There were several yells of dismay at our predicament, and an uneasy suspicion crept into my head.

“Fool, I am a bloody fool!” I yelled. “All this time we blindly trusted to this trail, never bothering to question the intent of it. Why was it here and who made it? The answer lies before us. That creature is the maker of the path for its own vile purpose, and now it has led us to this abysmal swamp!”

The choices, which lay before us, were grim. We could try and pick our way through it, skirt around the edge hoping to find an end, or go back through the hollow, knowing that we would face another night there.

None of us voted for the last choice so we decided to find a way through the swamp. Within only a few yards from the edge, the footing became treacherous. Knee deep in mud, the men tried to find a means of passage out of the murky waters. 

The fog was thickening now that we were at the source, and it swirled lazily between the dead tree trunks that had fallen victim to the unquenchable thirst of the bog. Unseen insects droned in the distance, an occasional bullfrog croaked across the dismal fen, as if in mockery of our plight. I could just make out the back of Woods in front me when we came across an area of deep mud that reached our thighs. If this were to become any deeper, we would be forced to turn back.

I yelled up to Woods to check with the trackers and make sure the mud did not get deeper. After a minute he told me to bear to the right where the going was easier. The slime was now up to my midsection and I began to sink lower.

Quicksand!

“Woods!” I yelled. “Rope, now!” He yelled up to the others and they turned back to help. The soft mud did not allow for faster action and I knew better than to struggle, although I was immersed up past my waist now and still sinking. I had forgotten about Saric when I heard a short cry in back of me.

The guide was chest deep in the mire and looking frantically for something to grab onto. There was an old tree half submerged several yards from him but just out of reach. His situation looked desperate.

“Hurry! Saric is trapped!” The men took their rope out and Woods now retrieved it, but the deep mud hampered his progress. Saric was in a panic now, and this only made his situation worse. 

“Hold, man! Don’t move!” I tried to calm him down but he was overcome with fear. Woods threw out a length of rope to me but was off mark. My own predicament was worsening as I continued sinking. Again Woods tossed the rope and this time I grabbed the end.

He tugged and I didn’t budge. Landers was almost at his side now, and looking back I could only see Saric’s head. There was not much time left. Landers helped to pull and now Robinson was there as well. The men had to stay back unless they were to share our fate. They needed firmer footing for leverage. I yelled encouragement to Saric but his arms flailed wildly about, his head tilted to keep from swallowing the mud.

The three men slowly pulled me out and I was gasping for air as they dragged me through the sludge. When I was out far enough, Robinson came toward me and Woods threw the rope towards Saric, but it was too late.

We watched helplessly as his right arm hovered over the surface for an instant, then vanished into the depths of the swamp.

Chatra had not said a word, but his eyes betrayed the bitter loss of his kinsman. The rest of us were in great despair - exhausted, frightened, hungry, and unsure of when the swamp would end. We went ahead a bit where more solid ground was to be found and rested.

I felt an odd sensation on my leg and found a huge black leech beneath my pants, blood seeping from my skin. I cut the foul parasite out with my knife and Robinson said bitterly, “I guess there is life down here anyway.” I spat in disgust.

“You know, that mud swallowed us up so quickly, we scarcely had time to react. The experience I have learned with quicksand is patience and do not struggle. That mire went against everything I know. Poor Saric didn’t have a prayer.”

“This hollow has its own laws,” answered Landers. “What we have seen so far defies explanation. Does our guide have any idea of our whereabouts?” Robinson conversed with the taciturn native and replied. “He is unsure of the direction. The mist and swamp have distorted his tracking skills. His choice would be to go where the ground seems more solid, and he believes that will take us further north. I agree, and the sooner the better. The day grows old.”

His statement brought back our earlier fears and off we went.

The footing began to improve and our spirits began to rise as we reached solid ground and left the swamp behind us. Our progress increased and the vegetation was less oppressive on this side. The mist was still with us but not quite as thick. We were in the same twilight since late that morning, and darkness would fall early unless we could reach some higher ground. I called for a short break and Chatra was convinced that the region was starting to level upwards. Finishing quickly, our group moved off once more and we could see that nightfall was nearly upon us.

We had changed formation now with Robinson walking behind me since the loss of Saric. He had insisted on it and we all stayed close, in single file and everyone within a few yards of each other. The ground had definitely begun to slope upward and we finally reached the bottom edge of the valley. The last reservoir of our strength was being tapped, as we knew the end was within sight. 

The trees opened up and there before us was the cliff side, but much steeper than we had anticipated. Rocks and boulders were strewn all around and the footing looked treacherous.

I grimly told the men to spread out to reduce the risk of us all being caught in a fall, and up we went. The ascent called for extreme caution, as the ground was loose with numerous rocks and jagged edges all about. A cluster of large boulders lay about a hundred yards above us, and beyond that was a thick area of brambles and high brush before the cliff leveled off.

Darkness had fallen and we were nearing the rocks when Landers let out a curse. Looking up, we spotted a black figure standing among the rock pile, eyes glittering bright yellow. 

The creature stood motionless for a moment and then sprang onto an outcropping of huge boulders several dozen yards above us. I knew what it had in mind and with an immense show of power it loosened two huge rocks tumbling down upon us.

We all tried to scatter but there was no time. One of the boulders headed straight at Robinson, barely missing myself. He was hit square on and toppled helplessly beneath it down the cliff.

Another one passed between Woods and Landers, and they narrowly avoided it. Landers flattened against the ground but Woods was not so fortunate. The movement to avoid being crushed made him lose his balance and he fell off the wall. I watched as he rolled sideways over and over again, battering against the sharp rocks.

He didn’t stop until he was near the bottom and there he remained, unmoving.

In all the mayhem, Chatra was the only one to take action. He had continued up to the rock pile with his rifle in hand. I watched as he came within yards of the creature, which now made no attempt to seek cover. I yelled for him not to get too close, and I brought up my gun to aim.

The creature stood still, and I could see its unblinking gaze was fixed on the native. Chatra pointed his sights on the beast and in that second it chose to move.

With startling agility, it leapt to the right and crouched on top of a large rock formation. Chatra squeezed off several rounds but the monster was already in action. I could not shoot for fear of hitting the guide, so I watched what ensued in horror.

The creature leapt closer to the tough native, and Chatra whipped out his long knife. The beast feinted left, and then in a blur of lightning speed closed on the hapless man and gave him a crushing blow to the skull. It picked up the unconscious victim and dashed him onto the rocks below.

Enraged, I fired at the demon, and found a target at last. One of my shots struck it in the chest and it howled its hatred at me. It fell on one clawed limb, and I unloaded the rest of my stock, connecting several more times.

Down it fell, the eyes dimming. In its last breath, it screamed in such anguish that I nearly collapsed right there. I lay on the ground, still not believing that the beast was dead. I crawled forward and confirmed my hopes. It lay there lifeless, an unknown creature that leant substance to the native folklore, and with good reason.

I peered down to the bottom of the cliff trying to make out the body of Woods - but where was Landers? I had caught a glimpse of him trying to reach Woods, but now he was gone as well. Maybe he would appear at the top of the cliff, waiting for me. 

Woods might yet be alive, although how badly injured I dared not think. I made my way carefully in the dark and found him lying there, and my worst fears were realized. The only thing left for me now was to get out of the hollow and reach the village, but without my men, although I still hoped to find Landers. I sobbed and cursed our ill fortune, but there was nothing I could do to ease my anguish.

As I started upwards, a noise broke the silence that froze every nerve in my body. A blood-curdling howl echoed through the night, coming down from the cliff. 

There was another creature.

The final shred of my hope vanished as it was answered by another scream, this one coming from the jungle. There were several of these monsters, and they had come to avenge their fallen brethren.

And now I hear a howl much closer in the trees behind me, and I can sense its presence as it hunts me. My rifle is empty and all I have left is my hunting knife, which is useless against such a demon.

All I have time for is regret as I await the approach of my enemy.

* * * *

Paul Melniczek

Paul Melniczek is a small business owner and a college graduate, with a degree in business management. He also teaches a part time class at a local college, is married with two children. In year 2000 he began writing, and since then has had over seventy stories published or accepted for publication in a wide variety of markets, including print anthologies, print magazines, e-zines, and e-anthologies. Some of these include sales to Fangoria, Black Rose, Cold Storage, and many others.

He is also a musician, playing classical piano and electric guitar. In his free time he enjoys the outdoors, weightlifting, golf, and tennis. Living in the country lends much inspiration to his writing, and he is currently working on another short story collection, a fantasy novel, and a children’s book.