Its howls always began as snarls, crescendoed to a deep growl and ended in a hiss as sharp as the air rushing from the punctured lungs of its unfortunate prey. For decades it was feared and loathed and hunted to the ends of the island with no mercy and a steadily growing body-count until there was a survivor.
As small as it may have been, the island boasted five campsites that used to be booked solid all summer and then the creature dug itself out from the foundations of a newly built house and the slaughter began. Of course the end of their peaceful island life would be because some daft mainlander called them superstitious instead of right.
Shame it's in poor taste to gloat to the dead but that didn't stop smug looks silently floating about the pubs and quiet corners of the workplace. They never thought they'd be next - the creature was as much a part of the island as they were and it couldn't possibly hate them after all these years, right?
Turns out hate fades slower than all the scars they left it and all the bones they broke when they decided that a child should hold all of their sins until sin itself died. It seemed like a logical thing to do back then and it slid into legend long before the thought of guilt entered their minds.
Then the new house came and private contractors from the mainland broke into the chamber they buried it in and set it loose upon them all. After it had its fill in the house it headed straight for the closest campsite, slowly circling the island one kill at a time again and again and again until someone survived long enough to ideo the attack.
Funny how all it took to regain their mercy was a recording of its howl played in reverse.
That lone word that it cried forced them to remember that it was, and always would be, a child.
A child crying "Sorry" all those years, frightened and hungry and not knowing any other way to be.
As small as it may have been, the island boasted five campsites that used to be booked solid all summer and then the creature dug itself out from the foundations of a newly built house and the slaughter began. Of course the end of their peaceful island life would be because some daft mainlander called them superstitious instead of right.
Shame it's in poor taste to gloat to the dead but that didn't stop smug looks silently floating about the pubs and quiet corners of the workplace. They never thought they'd be next - the creature was as much a part of the island as they were and it couldn't possibly hate them after all these years, right?
Turns out hate fades slower than all the scars they left it and all the bones they broke when they decided that a child should hold all of their sins until sin itself died. It seemed like a logical thing to do back then and it slid into legend long before the thought of guilt entered their minds.
Then the new house came and private contractors from the mainland broke into the chamber they buried it in and set it loose upon them all. After it had its fill in the house it headed straight for the closest campsite, slowly circling the island one kill at a time again and again and again until someone survived long enough to ideo the attack.
Funny how all it took to regain their mercy was a recording of its howl played in reverse.
That lone word that it cried forced them to remember that it was, and always would be, a child.
A child crying "Sorry" all those years, frightened and hungry and not knowing any other way to be.
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