Tag Archives: cryptid

The Cycle Continues

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

He stood on the rocks, gazing out over the water as waves broke at his feet.

“She belongs to them now,” a withered voice spoke from behind.

He shook his head. “What right do they have?”

“That’s how it works. That’s how it’s always worked. We sacrifice one for the good of the many. It was your turn to offer the sacrifice. Simple as that,” the old woman replied.

“Will they kill her?” he asked, hopeful.

“You know better, James. They’ll turn her into one of them. She’ll be the monster that comes to take Peter’s little girl next cycle.”

I skipped last week because I was out of town having fun over the weekend and knew I wouldn’t be around to do any reading of the other stories. You can check out a bit of the fun I was having by visiting yesterday’s post.

Written for Friday Fictioneers.
Click here for stories from the other Fictioneers.

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At the Water’s Edge

PHOTO PROMPT © Erin Leary

PHOTO PROMPT © Erin Leary

He knew she was out there, somewhere, probably hidden under all those lily pads–obscured by the dark, murky water. The water rippled in the wind, making the lily pads bob up and down in a hypnotic dance. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find her–wasn’t sure he even wanted to. Seeing her again wouldn’t lead anywhere good, not after so many years. He knew that, but still he went there every day after work and sat at the water’s edge. Not seeing her again seemed worse somehow. He needed to know she existed–needed to know he wasn’t crazy.

Written for Friday Fictioneers.

Click here to read stories from the rest of the Fictioneers.


Storybook Corner – June

IMG_20140222_145513Sebastian watched the manhole cover from under his newspaper blanket. Two nights in a row he’d seen something emerge from the tunnels beneath the park–of course, he’d been chin deep in a bottle of whiskey each night. He wondered if it would happen a third time. He’d forced himself to stay sober that day–not an easy feat for a man such as him.

The heavy, metal cover lifted into the air and slid across the cobblestone walkway. Sebastian shrank back into the protection of the newspapers draped over his body. He couldn’t remember exactly what he’d seen the other nights. Now that he wasn’t inebriated and he was about to see it again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.

A hand–more claw than hand, really–slipped through the opening and hoisted a beast from out of the bowels of the park. It’s long crocodilian snout sniffed at the air. It stood up on its hind legs in the pale light of the arc lamp  just down the path. Its massive tail flicked back and forth along the ground behind it. The heavily scaled creature bent at the waist and slid the cover back into place with a single hand.

Sebastian’s body shook uncontrollably under the pile of newspaper. The beast sniffed the air and turned its massive head toward the sound. Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and waited to be devoured. After what he imagined was at least ten minutes he opened his eyes again. The creature had disappeared.

Sebastian sat up and the newspapers rained to the ground from his park bench. He focused his eyes on the manhole cover. He couldn’t help wondering if he’d imagined the entire encounter. Years of alcohol abuse has lasting repercussions on the mind. One day sober isn’t even to get out from beneath the shadow of alcoholism.

He sat on the bench for hours pondering whether or not the creature was real, at the same time wishing he had something to drink. With dawn approaching a rustling in the bushes to his right demanded his attention. The beast pushed through with a bloody, unconscious woman drapped across its shoulder. It trudged toward the entrance to its lair and Sebastian stood up to get a better look.

The creature pulled the manhole cover aside, and grabbed the woman by the waist.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Sebastian yelled before he could stop himself.

The crocodilian humanoid looked at the puny homeless man. It dropped the woman through the hole, and the corners of its long mouth pushed upward it what appeared to be a grin before it followed her in. Once again the hand came through the hole, this time to slid the cover back to its rightful place.

Sebastian ran. His intention was to go to the police, but he ended up at the nearest liquor store, waiting outside until they opened so he could use what little cash he had on something that would help him forget what he’d seen.

ogre-castle-words


The Eloko of Zaire

An extraordinarily evil race of beings dwells in the deepest, darkest part of the rain forests in central Zaire. The eloko is a dwarf-like creature with a short temper, a penchant for violence, and a taste for human flesh–especially that of the female variety. It is said that these creatures (the plural of eloko is biloko by the way) are said to be the spirits of the ancestors of the people who live there. Apparently they harbor some sort of grudge against the living and are known to be a rather vicious, unforgiving lot.

Deep within the heavy trees they guard their treasures–rare fruits and the game of the forest–from all who dare trespass.

They aren’t much in the looks department. These odd little fellows have a tendency to grow grass instead of hair and have a snout like a crocodile, said to be able to open wide enough to swallow a human. As if that weren’t bad enough, add piercing eyes and sharp claws to the mix and you’ve got yourself an Eloko.

On a related note: if you happen to find yourself in a Central African forest and hear a bell, just turn the other way and run. Don’t look back. Don’t wait around to see what’s making the odd ringing where there shouldn’t be any. Biloko are said to possess little bells that can cast spells on passers-by. You don’t want that. Trust me.

Also, just to reiterate, if you are a female, you might want to consider not venturing into the forest at all. I did mention they prefer the taste of female flesh over that of males, didn’t I? Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you find yourself on a Eloko’s menu some day.


Creature Feature: The Rake

There is a creature who exists in many legends. A creature that has terrified countless people in their own homes (and outside them as well). A creature that has a penchant for crouching. As far as I can tell, this creature knows no bounds and can be found worldwide.

The always crouching hominid known as the Rake has limbs jutting out at awkward angles and a shrill high-pitched voice that witnesses say is indescribable.

It is said that this creature moves around on all fours like a dog and lies in wait for victims to pass by in the night–it’s only ever seen at night. The beast is said to make demands that must be met or it will haunt and pester it’s victim relentlessly, sometimes even to the point of death.

One of the major curiosities involving this cryptid is the fact that a lot of information on it was uploaded to the internet in 2003. Then rather quickly all of that information was deleted. There one day, gone the next. No one has fessed up to removing the information so its disappearance is a mystery.

I leave you with a journal entry from a mariner’s log in 1691:

“He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.”

Behold my amazing sketch, and weep at its beauty!

Behold my amazing sketch, and weep at its beauty!