When Fear Comes Knocking

As the raindrops slowed, I stared at the cover—the cover of a book that should have never been open. Fear had control over me as I walked out of my room.

"Has the storm ended?" I asked Robert, the only person that was on my side.

"It appears that way. Let's go see," he said while stepping towards the boat's greenish wood stairs.

We were blinded by the sun that shined directly onto the deck, illuminating the struggles of this boat. The storm had ended, and the rest of the day looked promising.

"Hello captain, the storm seems to have finished," said Robert, while looking up to the heavens.

"Since the whims of the weather have shifted in our favour, we will continue our adventure," replied Mr. Spectacle, while clenching his teeth.

"Why would he be angry? It just doesn't make sense." I thought as all of us gathered in the hull.

Lit candles were blown out as the sun seeped into the windows. Me, Henry, Robert, and Mr. Spectacle sat at the table, while the rest of the crew stood. The tension between the team eased as the storm had passed.

"Our mission for today is to unload the cargo. We will place the goods just barely in the jungle, so that way we can keep our equipment safe. Once complete, we will lock up the boat and find a place to camp. We will then take turns keeping watch, making sure we're safe. Everyone got it?" stated Mr. Spectacle, looking at each member of the crew.

"Yes sir!" shouted the men, with a surge of courage.

"And remember, if any liquid touches our tools, the mission is over; so take care," added Robert as the crew dispersed.

I left for my private room and gathered my belongings—a flashlight, rope, some water, a bit of food, and a knife. As I flipped the backpack around my shoulders and walked to the ship's front compartment, I thought about my findings.

"Is it too late to tell the crew? Maybe I still have a chance." I thought as I helped lower the front of the boat; it was specially engineered for this mission, so that cargo could quickly be taken from the front section to the shore.

It was like a draw bridge, where it gets placed down using two hinges, but instead of landing on some grass on the edge of a moat, it was a beach shore. Very much like any other vacation hot-spot, but different.

Different in the sense that the overall aura was strange. It felt as if the remains of those men were still there, buried deep beneath me. Almost as if the souls were screaming and hoping they would be heard.

Switching back to good thoughts, I began unloading. Taking boxes and placing them in the jungle. It was hard work, but I knew it was necessary. As I kept taking crates, I felt a chill pass through my body. I looked around to see who was staring, but nothing came up.

As I lifted one crate, packed with our specialized equipment, I turned to see a bird. Black eyes, and a strange chromatic body colour, the bird chirped at me as if it wanted me to come closer.

One step at a time, I walked forward significantly slower than the rest of the crew. It chirped once again as if it was telling me to hurry up. Finally reaching the bird, I stared deeply into its eyes, and it stared into mine.

"Greg? Are you all right?" asked Robert with a concerned look as he dropped his box.

"Yes...I..I'm fine," I said while jerking my head towards him.

I turned back to see if the bird was there, and it wasn't. I looked all over the section it was in, and nothing. It disappeared without notice. I returned to unloading the crates as I thought I was delusional.

I kept placing boxes in the jungle until I was finished. Exhausted from the heat, the crew and me all sat down and took a break. We gathered at the beach shore, sitting in a large circle.

"This heat's killin me. I hope th' jungle will be better," said a crew member, finishing the last drops in his bottle.

"I hope so too, but at least we are all done; and without any casualties, amazing!" replied Mr. Spectacle, a joyful expression overtaking his features.

"Y'know, I heard that this place is cursed," added one of Henry's friends, Jeremiah. He had long, black hair that passed his shoulders. Its roots were turning gray, along with his beard.

"How so?" said Henry shifting his gaze to Jeremiah.

"I've been told stories of this jungle's history, and it's dark. There's a tale about how a sailor took a break on this island with his buddies, and they ended up sleepin'," started Jeremiah, intriguing everyone in the circle.

"Once it got dark, and they made a fire to stay warm, they heard strange sounds. Sounds that came from th' jungle, so they got their weapons ready in case anything went south, an' it did.

Supposedly, the men who wer' there got eaten by som' type o' creature, an' it wasn' the regular kind. They described it as some kind o' lion, but-" he was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

"Wait, how'd you even learn this story if they were eaten?!" exclaimed a crew member.

"HAHAHA! Are you dumb or somethin?" added another.

"No, I didn' get to finish!" Jeremiah shouted, trying to explain the origins behind his story.

"Ye' see, I learned this story from a buddy of mine who knew a different guy on a nearby boat. And that boat left just in time to avoid those wretched beasts. The story's been spreading like wildfire," said Jeremiah, finally finishing his tale.

"Pfft, I call it fake! Do ya'll believe in these ghost stories?" shouted one of the crew members.

"It's real! I tell ye!" said Jeremiah, trying to make the people believe.

But as the crew once again began their banter, all I could think about was Jeremiah's story. I knew about the tales that came from the book, but I had trouble believing them. Today, with Jerry's story adding to the pile, I finally accepted the truth.

I knew that this mission would be hard, but I didn't think it would include voyaging through a creature infested jungle, created by the devil himself. This was his home, and now it was time to play by the rules.