invasion | LOST QUARTER BOOKS

Miscellanea from the Lost Quarter and beyond.

The Behemoth

One day in their travels they came upon a great behemoth sprawled across the land. So vast was this creature that, at first, they did not realize it was an animal, though that word seems small for the scale of what they faced. They mistook the hair that blanketed its body as some strange vegetation. It was so large, encompassing the whole horizon, seemingly without an end, that they could only guess at its contours. For all they knew what lay before them was a mere appendage of the creature. Nothing resembling a head or eyes or mouth or any other familiar body parts was distinguishable.

That it was both alive and a creature, was made evident by its movements. These came at irregular intervals, with sometimes more than a day passing between them. From a prudent distance, they could see the hairy surface ripple as some muscle contracted, following which, shadow would be visible between the creature and the ruined earth below. So glacial was its pace that they had no way of determining what direction it was moving, though everyone imagined it was toward them.

They attempted to travel around the creature, assuming that at some point they must come to its end and be able to pass by. After two days of travel the landscape before them had not changed and there was no sign it would. Seeing no other choice for it, they continued, eventually encountering the people who made their homes upon the behemoth. These proved a disparate lot. Frontier folk mostly, living in scattered dwellings constructed from patches of hair they had cleared from the creature. Apparently there was enough residue earth upon the behemoth to allow crops to grow, for they could see gardens and fields flourishing on the cleared patches. Water they collected from various crevices and folds, some of which were large enough to last a lifetime.

Out of curiosity they approached some of these individuals to ask why they chose to live upon the behemoth and were met with blank stares. Though they lived near the creature’s edge it had never occurred to them to venture off. To live outside the behemoth seemed foolhardy in the extreme. Most of their fellows thought them mad for living as close as they did to its borders. The behemoth was the universe to them, encompassing the world even as it crossed it, leaving devastation in its wake, while those living upon it were unaffected.

They decided to venture deeper into the mass of the behemoth to see more of its inhabitants. They encountered birds and animals and insects they had never seen before, and rivers that flowed deeply when it rained. They also came across places where the creature was bald, hair stripped away and not growing back, the soil that everywhere else was heavy on the surface was blown away leaving only bare hide. Great seams of scars ran up and down these areas, creating desolate ridges and valleys they needed to cross.

The explanation for these wastelands came later as they encountered larger settlements. Here there were mining operations where the flesh of the behemoth was carved open and various parts and fluid extracted. Close by were factories to process everything into an endless number of products: soaps, lamp oil, dried and cured meat, medical tinctures and others they did not recognize. The further in they went, and there was always further to go it seemed, the more of these wastelands they encountered. Some had no scars at all, the desolation the result of something internal to the behemoth. In fact, the further they went the more certain they became that the beast was ailing.

When they spoke of this to the inhabitants they were met with derision. It had always been so, many said. Others declared that the harvesting of the creature was necessary for its health. It needed to be drained of a certain amount of fluid and flesh in order to maintain its equilibrium. Some claimed that the behemoth was the world itself and refused to believe that there were lands beyond, lands which it traversed and which were ruined as a result. Everywhere they went it was taken as self-evident that living upon the behemoth as they did was the only choice. Most refused to believe they were from elsewhere or that, if they in fact did, that it was really any different.

After some months of trying to determine the entire extent of the behemoth, they gave up and returned home. Before they left its environs they established markers so that when they returned they could determine if the creature was moving closer.

Miscellanea from the Lost Quarter and beyond.

Next Door

Distant screams reach their ears, pricking the skin on their arms. At first they are uncertain, unwilling even, to hear them for what they are. Some strangeness with the wind or the elements they tell themselves. It is a windswept and lonely place with everyone living at a far remove from each other. They hear things that those in more populous places would never notice, the sounds drowned out by the general cacophony of life. This is something like that, unfamiliar as it is, and nothing to cause concern.

As it persists, growing in volume, it becomes undeniable. Those are screams, of hundreds, maybe thousands of individuals. A chorus of despair and agony. It is too disturbing to contemplate and their first instinct is to retreat, to distance themselves from the sounds. To not hear and not bear witness. The voices are still far away and they inhabit a vast expanse. There are many places to go where they might not hear.

But, they tell themselves, this is their home and whatever is happening beyond the horizon they should remain. It is theirs, after all. They wonder if they should investigate, to see what is the cause of such suffering, but they tell themselves it is not their affair. There are enough problems here without taking on others and anyway, matters will resolve themselves eventually. But they know it is their own fear that stays their hands.

The screams grow louder and louder. There is no denying they are getting closer. A few decide they can no longer stand aside and live with themselves. They head toward the horizon. Those who stay argue amongst themselves about what they should do. Nothing is resolved and the screams grow louder, invading every moment of every day.

Two things become apparent. What at a distance sounded like pain and suffering now sounds more like rage and joy. Untold multitudes baying for blood. And as those who left to investigate fail to return and the voices grow ever louder, there can be no denying whose blood they are calling for.