Blackness. That’s all there was. So dark was it, that one cave wall, had it possessed the ability, could not possibly have seen the other cave wall directly opposite. Nor could it have seen the rocky ground below. Or the stalactites up above. Or anything else for that matter. All that it would have been able to see, was complete and utter blackness.
But hark!
There are footsteps! Footsteps in the distance. And what more, a glimmer of light! Then more light, and louder footsteps. An ugly, robust man appears, with a torch in one hand and a walking stick in the other. Beside him walks a tall, strong man, with a rugged face. He has a torch in one hand, and leads a horse with another. Anon, eight more men appear, seven of them hideously ugly.
Taylor James had come far, but his journey continued.
“May we rest a moment, Master Taylor?” enquired the skinny man behind him.
“I’m afraid not, Rafey,” Taylor replied. “Time is just too short.”
“But we’ve been walking for more than twelve hours,” Rafey pleaded. “Surely some rest is deserved?”
“You can ride on Scraggly,” Taylor offered, motioning to the newly christened supply steed, “if you can get on him.”
Rafey glanced up at the haggard animal. It was biting at the air, randomly waving its head at some unseen fly.
“I’ll pass,” he said.
Suddenly Taylor came to a stop. He put up his hand, and they all ceased in their advance.
“What is it?” Pommer asked.
“Did you hear that?” Taylor said.
“Hear wh-” Rafey began, but Taylor cut him off with a sharp “Shush!”
They listened for a moment, each one afraid of what their ears might deliver.
“I don’t hear anything,” one of the Pooglie-Wooglies finally declared, his nerves at the shattering point.
“Quiet, Foger!” Pommer snapped. “When I want your opinion, I’ll give you a kick! Until then, keep still.”
Again they listened, quiet as water. Down deep, in the crevices of the earth, there is no sound of wind, no sound of birds chirping, no sound of anything at all, except the sound of your own breathing and the sound of danger up ahead – the sound of fear, striking at your ears and coiling down to your heart, vibrating into every muscle, bone, and ligament of the body. It was this sound that Taylor James, and Pommer, and all the rest, were hearing right now. It was the sound of imminent danger, and a more frightening sound one could not imagine. For only one thing, lurking in the deep alleys of the earth, could deliver such a sound; a sound which could make even the bravest of men nervous. It was the sound of pain. It was the sound of death. It was the sound of…The Monster.
Slowly it made its way around the bend of the cave and into the sights of our dear friends.
“My God,” Taylor muttered.
The creature stood on six short legs, and was a good fifteen feet in length, with three of the fifteen dedicated to its long, outstretched neck. The body was a peculiar dark green, as was the face, which was an odd sort of oval, with hideously sharp teeth protruding from the front, and long, narrow ears at the sides. Behind the neck, over the main portion of the body, was a large protective shell, so hard that it could not have been penetrated by a dozen blows from the sharpest ax. In back of this was the tail, some six feet in length, and strong as twenty men. It was covered with sharp, nail-like spikes, and could whip out as fast as a lizard’s tongue.
The creature stopped before them, glaring with gleaming yellow eyes, dark pupils dilating.
“This is not good,” Rafey remarked.
“Very observant, my twig-like friend!” Pommer cracked. “Now, do you have anything helpful to offer?”
“Any chance of it letting us pass?” Taylor asked.
“Into its stomach maybe,” Pommer said. “Other than that, I’d say no.”
The Monster cracked its tail upon the wall, and the entire cave shook.
“Should we put out the torches?”
“Look at those eyes and ears,” Pommer said, pointing with his finger. “I’d say it has a much better chance of surviving in the dark than we do. It’s used to it. Right now he’s just planning out his attack.”
And surely it was!
The creature was getting closer, pacing up and down. Its eyes were becoming slits, its jaw tense as a rock. It had a look of satisfied anticipation upon its face.
“All right,” Taylor said. “Let’s surround it.”
“Surround it?” cried Foger. “Are you crazy? Look at that thing! I say we turn back.”
“I’m with him,” agreed a short, raggedy Pooglie-Wooglie named Woodle.
“Well,” said Pommer, “if the both of you combined had half the wit of a pimple on a pig’s patootie, we might take note of your opinion. But ya don’t! So shut-up and follow orders.”
Taylor drew his sword and advanced, with the others following cautiously behind. Foger and a Pooglie-Wooglie named Loken each had a bow and arrow, and Pommer had his staff, but the rest carried swords like Taylor, two of them also with torches. Still, they seemed a meager match for such a tremendous creature.
The Monster was a mere twenty feet from them now, taking its time, deciding which human to devour first. It moved not an inch as they approached, but was rather unconcerned, in fact, pleased that they were making his feasting that much easier. It shifted its legs, as if ready to spring, and turned its head slowly round.
Very carefully they advanced, till finally they were no more than ten feet from it. They spread out, surrounding it on all sides. The cave was a bit wider here, and they were thankful – otherwise the creature would’ve most certainly had them trapped.
Taylor took the most dangerous position, standing before the immense creature, staring it directly in the eye. For a moment the two had an interchange of the minds, the Monster slithering with his tongue, while Taylor planted his feet, his sword pointed at the enormous head.
Without moving his eyes, he addressed Pommer to his left:
“Is there anything in particular I should know?”
Snap!
The creature’s tongue shot out at our hero, sending him diving to the floor. He recovered, but a moment later the tongue was whipping out again, knocking the sword from his grasp.
“Make sure you look out for the tongue!” Pommer yelled.
“Thanks,” Taylor said.
The Monster was beginning to move, straggling its way toward him. Pommer and the others tried to keep it back with helpless pokes, but it was no use. Instinctively, Taylor flung his torch at the creature, but the monstrous tongue simply lashed it right back at him.
“Aak!” Taylor cried, jolting from its path, the flames brushing his hand as it went by.
He was vulnerable now, and might very well have been done for, had not the Monster felt a sudden rap on the neck. Immediately, its attention was diverted to the feisty Pommer, who had delivered the mighty blow.
“And there’s more where that came from!” he screamed.
The Monster snapped out at him, but Pommer dodged from its path. Quickly, though, The Monster was at him again, forcing the fat Pooglie-Wooglie up against the wall. It opened its enormous mouth, and was about to lash out with its tongue, when a rock struck it square in the head. Confused, the creature turned in a fit of fury.
“Come back here and fight!” Taylor hollered, both sword and torch again in his hands.
He could see the anger in The Monster’s face as it shifted toward him. Its eyes flashed, its tongue thrusting forth its slithery weapon in rage. Taylor dove quickly to the ground and was up again, but again the enormous tongue was at him. He ducked down, and it missed his head by mere inches, leaving a flurry of saliva on his ears.
“Shoot that thing!” Pommer ordered.
Quickly, Foger and Loken let loose with their arrows, but they had no effect, bouncing idly off the creature’s shell. Taylor jumped and dove, as the Monster came at him with its tongue. Again the two Pooglie-Wooglies set their arrows, this time taking
aim at the head and neck. The Monster opened its jaws, and Taylor rushed from its path. But this time – No! – it did not go for him, but for the arrow-wielding Loken instead. The creature’s tongue wrapped around the helpless Pooglie-Wooglie with ease, causing the bow to slip from the young man’s hands, and squeezing until the life slipped from the young man’s body. Taylor thrashed at the tongue with his sword, but it was already too late – The Monster had retracted it back into his mouth, leaving the crushed figure of Loken lifeless upon the ground!
Gone! Banished from this earth!
As Taylor stared down at the fallen Pooglie-Wooglie, he felt a burning in his heart that soon conquered his entire body. It rushed from his chest to his head, enveloping his every part. When he looked back up at The Monster, it was not in fear, but in rage and anger. In fury.
The Monster turned, and again it threw out its tongue at our hero. Taylor spun to his side, quick on his feet. When the tongue lashed out again, he was ready for it, and this time he lashed back with his sword. The creature cried-out in anguish as it felt the blow cut into its mighty mouth muscle, retracting quickly. He waved his tail in pain, bouncing it off the cave wall, and sending stalactites crashing to the ground. The entire place shook, causing Taylor and the rest to lose their balance and fall. The Monster charged and – fwp! – out came the tongue! Taylor rolled and cut it. The creature reeled back in pain.
The giant terror was enraged now. Its tail swung in fury – boom, boom, boom! – creating a mass of rubble. Taylor hopped to his feet, while the Monster prepared himself for yet another strike.
Fwp! – Taylor swung and missed, his timing a mere tenth of a second off. It was enough. – The force of the blow sent him crashing back into the wall. Quick!, he thought, Up again! Dive! Miss. Dive! Cut. Turn. Slash. The Monster reeled in pain. The tongue flew. Down again! Taylor rolled upon the ground. Here it comes! He cut and slashed. Ha!
The Monster jumped and squealed, hysterical. Its tail waved, whoosh, boom!, whoosh, boom! against the wall. It stomped its feet.
Taylor readied himself. The Monster was stepping back now – not retreating, though. It curled its head, and bent its legs at the knees. It was preparing to charge! Scrape, scrape went the feet, as its nose turned down toward the ground.
“Get out of the way!” Pommer yelled.
But already the Monster was at him, springing into the air with unseemly agility. Taylor dove to his right, and the creature struck hard into the wall, shaking everything in sight. It quickly recovered and charged again, this time missing Taylor’s leg by mere inches.
Think, Taylor, think! he told himself.
But there was no time for thought. Already the Monster was back up on its feet and racing at him. He ran from its path, while Pommer tried to distract it with his staff. But it was no use. The creature had set its eyes on Taylor, and it would be him that he would have. It charged past the courageous Pommer and toward our hero. Closer it got, till at last it was right on his heels.
Fast Taylor dove, and the Monster hurtled right over him, narrowly missing Taylor’s head with its tail. It would not miss again, Taylor knew. He jumped to his feet, and made for a small enclosure in the cave wall, the Monster close behind. Into it he dove, and the creature dove also. But the opening was too small, and its head crashed hard into the wall. For a moment it was stifled, and Taylor raced to the back of the opening. He heard the sound of the creature’s tongue, and something struck him in the back. Quickly, though, he was back up on his feet, making haste away from the hideous weapon, which he knew was bound to strike out again. The enclosure ended, and he found himself trapped in its walls.
He turned, ready to strike with sword or torch. But when the tongue lashed out again, he was relieved to find that it could not reach him. The creature retracted it, then snapped it out again, but this time Taylor was ready. He stabbed down hard, piercing the Monster through its deadliest weapon, and pressing the sword hard into the cave ground. The Monster wailed in agony, but there was nothing it could do. It was stuck. Taylor rolled under the slithery terror and toward the enormous head. The Monster shrieked and stomped as the torch came under its neck, wriggling its tail and body. Rocks crashed down as it lashed its tail and bobbed in futility, the head burning.
A sound of pounding and shrieking horrible to the ears! But soon it halted, and all was again calm.
“Taylor!” Pommer yelled, coming up behind it. “Taylor, are you all right?”
The victor peeked out his head from underneath the Monster’s jaw.
“I think we’ll take that rest now,” he said. Then he smiled, and fell to the floor.
Chapter 39
Precautions