Hey again everyone. I'm pleased to say that I've finally gotten the third and final-I mean it!-part of this fic complete. Hope you enjoy the thrilling conclusion.


"Monstrous demon-god? What in the world did he mean by that?" Ann asked quizzically, her angelic head slightly cocked. "I bet he meant yet another huge dinosaur," she guessed.

"Nope, not a dinosaur Miss Darrow," Hayes clarified, shaking his massive fudge brown head. "It was something far stranger and more terrible then that. But that'll come a little later."

"Anyway. As I've told you before, Kermit had been coming across all sorts of ancient ruins on the island, and he kept seeing them every so often as he headed in what he thought was the general direction of the sea. But they were either too short to rise above the trees, or impossible for him to climb with his damaged shoulder. Luckily, Kermit soon discovered a tall, narrow building, which he'd figured had once been some kinda guard tower or observatory. Most importantly for him, it had a complete set of spiraling stairs, easily climbed and even having a stone guardrail."

"Favoring his left shoulder, he worked his way up to a sort of small stone house at the top. Looking out over the trees, he saw there was a sheltered area of the coast where the beaches were sandier, more stable, and not so lashed by waves. It was fairly close to where he was standing, and even with his wounds, Kermit felt he could reach it in two hours-if all went well."

"And I somehow doubt that it did," Ann neutrally surmised. "There's still those calf wounds he got, after all."

"That's right. When Kermit came down the flight of stairs, and approached the bottom, he'd admitted to us that he'd suddenly had this weird feeling, one that gave him the absolute heebie-jeebies. He knew too well that he reeked of blood, and saw that he'd left drops of it all up and down the stairs. He had this vague, nervous sense that something else had come across it while he was taking a look around, doped out that there was an easy meal in the cards, and was waiting nearby in the jungle for him to come down from the tower."

"Kermit halted then, torn between taking his chances by going back out into the jungle, or going back up to the room at the top of the tower, where he'd be relatively safer. He couldn't see or hear that there were any big creatures among the trees, and the underbrush wasn't too dense around that spot."

"So when he got to the bottom of the stairs, he took a few steps away from them, then clapped his hands and shouted 'Hey there!' to see if he could get a reaction from whatever might be waiting for him. Nothing moved or even made a rustle, so Kermit plucked up his courage, and pushed forward, thinking only about getting to the sea."

"That was when the undergrowth came alive with snorts and birdlike whistles, and he was set upon."

"Set upon by what, Mr. Hayes?" the mesmerized vaudevillian inquired, almost desperately.

"Well, if I heard Kermit rightly-and I'm by no means certain that I did-he said that of all the beasts he saw during his time on the island, these were the damnedest funny-looking ones."

"Funny ha-ha or funny weird?" Ann feebly offered, trying to push back the viselike grip of grimness and horror that now seemed to permeate the galley.

"Funny weird. He said that they were compact, stocky things, three, four foot long reptiles that looked like some hairless cross between an alligator and a bull terrier, with blue-gray hide and long legs. They were about the size of a bull terrier too, with the same big scales on their backs and flanks that alligators have, short tails, and heads that looked somewhat like an iguana's, but were bulkier. Strangest and most frightening of all though, were their teeth, fierce spikes that jutted out of their jaws at an angle, and intermeshed like fingers."

"Sound kinda like the teeth of an Ela-Elas-Elasmah-Oh Gosh, I can't remember the name now for the life of me," Ann helplessly groped, shaking her head in frustration. "It's some sort of sea reptile they have at the Museum of Natural History, which looks almost like a cross between a huge python and a sea turtle. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about Mr. Hayes?" Ann hopefully inquired.

"I do Miss Darrow, and it's called an Elasmosaurus."

"Yeah, that's it!" Ann cried in delight, pointing at him. "Thanks so much Hayes."

"You're very welcome. But back to Kermit. He'd said that a whole pack of the creatures, 6 or 7 of them, rushed out at him 'like hounds after a boar.' He admitted that he lost his head, and instead of putting up a bold front, he ran through the jungle in no particular direction, the terrier-crocodiles slashing at his heels. They bit again and again at his legs and calves, trying to cripple him and haul him down. Often, their teeth only snagged the loose cloth of his pants, and didn't even break skin. Still, they found flesh sometimes."

"Didn't it ever occur to Kermit to use his knife on them?"

"It did, but at the same time, he didn't dare grab it and bend down to stab one. Otherwise, one of the terrier-crocodiles could grab him by the neck or by an arm, yank him down to the pack's level, and he'd be finished. Kermit also had no idea if the blade would even pierce their armor at all."

"As he ran, Kermit kicked back at them like a horse, sending the creatures sprawling. Sometimes, if one bit into his leg, he'd whack the animal's body against a tree to make it let go. Then, before he even knew what he was doing, he ran right out into a large clearing with a steep slope on the other side, which in turn dropped down into a gorge."

"Now the terrier-crocodiles could deal with him more easily out here, in the open, and Kermit knew he'd made a terrible mistake-maybe his last. One bit deep into his calf and yanked as he tried to kick another in the side, and he tripped, then fell. He immediately pushed up with his arms, their excited snorts and whistles at his ears. One went right for his throat, but before it could bite him, he grabbed it by the hind legs with one hand and flung it over his back, causing it to land on two of its fellows and scattering the rest for a few moments."

"Kermit used that chance to jump back to his feet and start to run. But then the pack of reptiles was at him again. They bit deep into the backs of his legs this time, pulling backward and shaking their heads as he tried to pull away or kick them off, fighting to stay on his own two feet. If he managed to send one flying with a kick, another would take its place. He was certain that it was finally all over for him, that they would soon hamstring him like he'd seen wolves do to sambar or wild boar in India. And then it would be curtains."

"How could be possibly have escaped from a situation like that Mr. Hayes?" Ann asked in disbelief. "Surely you'd need nothing short of a miracle."

"Actually, that was exactly what saved Kermit Miss Darrow," the first mate informed her, appreciating the irony. "A miracle-well, in a roundabout sorta way."

"As the terrier-crocodiles tried to yank Kermit off his feet, there was this incredible noise all of a sudden, one that he described as a sort of terrifying 'Wwwrrraaaaaaggghhh!!' He said the sound had an explosive, surprised quality to it. Naturally, it sure surprised both him and the terrier-crocodiles!"

"Heh, no kidding," Ann dryly commented.

"The snorts and whistles and squeaks they'd constantly been producing during the attack," Hayes went on, "became fearful and nervous at that point. Kermit told us that then, almost like they'd all made an agreement, the creatures attacking him turned, scattered, and raced back into the jungle as fast as their legs could carry them. As they did, another 'Wwwrrraaaaaaggghhh!!' ripped through the air, followed by the sound of something gigantic beating its chest."

"As much as Kermit wanted to flee himself, he couldn't keep from turning and looking in the direction of the sound. What intrigued him so much about it was that despite mostly having a primal, beastly quality-as you'd expect-there was also something in the deep scream that gave him an impression of intelligence, almost like a furious man had made that noise. It was then, on the other side of the gorge, looming above a field of 10-foot tall grass, he saw the great animal that he'd described to us as 'a monstrous demon-god made flesh.'"

"Did he say anything else about what it looked like Mr. Hayes?" Ann prodded. Her cobalt blue eyes were dilated from awe and, the first mate felt, more than a little agitation. They reminded him so much of Jimmy's whenever he became nervous or uncertain. Two innocents heading full speed toward Hell.

Taking another swallow of beer, he responded, "He said that it was a colossal creature, neither beast nor man. The size of a house, it was covered in shaggy black hair, with a 'saddle' of silver hair covering most of its back, and heavily scarred. Kermit said that as he'd turned around to look at the giant beast, it was just finishing pounding its chest and dropped back to all fours. It casually regarded him, and gave a strange sort of barking cough, one that he said sounded almost like it was asking him a question."

"Kermit was so intimidated and shocked by the sight of the beast that he couldn't bring his injured legs to move. It was like nothing that he'd ever dreamed of, and he realized then that this was the reason the islanders had built the wall, to guard them from this mixture of brute power and devilish cunning."

"After a few seconds of looking at each other, then the giant 'lowered his head, which was easily the size of a white rhino, down to my level across the cleft. He squeezed his lips tightly together, like a bloke does when he's getting steamed up, and gave me the most horrid, piercing stare from under his brow.'"

"I'm almost embarrassed to say this Mr. Hayes," Ann admitted, obliquely looking at the table's edge as her head shifted back and forth, a Mona Lisa smile on her lips, "but I would've wet myself from fear if in his place."

"And I wouldn't blame you myself," the first mate responded. "Kermit didn't get scared enough to do that, but it sure shook him badly, and the huge animal added to his terror seconds later by giving an air-shaking, angry growl, one that he'd said was 'like the biggest damned tiger in the world, except maybe 30 times louder and deeper. Almost like fast approaching thunder really.'"

"As you can probably imagine, even though his legs were torn and Kermit had a gorge between him and that terrifying monster, this suddenly made no difference. He turned, and flew back into the jungle, not all that doubtful that the beast hadn't crossed somehow, and was now right at his back."

"He ran down an animal trail in sheer panic for a short time, completely forgetting which direction he'd originally meant to travel in. When he did calm down and pull himself together, he realized that he'd gone off course. So, using the sun as a guide and moving as best he could with his torn legs, he made his way down through the jungle to the sea."

"Everything went okay for him I assume?" Ann commented.

"Yeah. The only creatures Kermit encountered on his way were another herd of duckbills, some odd flying animals that he said were like flying foxes with huge eyes and the tails of rats, a sort of Stegosaurus, and most curiously of all, a herd of huge wild cattle called gaur, which he'd seen in India many times before. How they could've gotten there, he had no idea."

"He couldn't put into words what a relief it was when, as he stumbled down one last rocky slope, the trees opened up in front of him. He'd reached the sand beach and the sea at last. Kermit had frankly felt like cheering at that moment, and many of us, including me, couldn't help but do it ourselves for him when he got to that point."

"I would've cheered and clapped for that poor man too," Ann ardently agreed. "He went through hell and back, and I'm proud that he managed to survive that long, to make it out of that place. Did anything else happen to Kermit before he built his raft and launched it?"

"Not that he told us," Hayes said. "Kermit made a crude shelter out of stones, logs, and branches, and lived in it for about a week while he rested, healed, and worked on his raft. The beach was relatively safe compared to the rest of the island, and although he sometimes heard some fierce beast cry out rather too close to the shore for his liking, or saw tracks in the sand, Kermit was never threatened by any beast or native during that time."

"As much as it stung his wounds, he found that bathing in the shallows did a lot of good for his healing. It also gave him a chance to catch crabs, lobsters, and octopus. He gathered clams, mussels, oysters, coconuts, and seabird eggs, even catching adult birds sometimes. He caught fish with a handmade fishing pole, a creeper line, and a thorn hook."

"Did he have any means of making fire to cook them, or did he just have to eat them raw?" Ann wondered, displaying her growing weariness with a yawn.

"I'm not sure exactly how he managed, but yeah, he got a fire going to warm himself and cook his food during that time."

"That's good. Seems to me like it would've risked attracting the attention of those terrible natives though, with all that smoke."

"Normally it would've," Hayes replied, "but remember, Kermit was a military man. Now, when I was in the army Miss Darrow, my squad and I were taught that if you're gonna make a fire in an area where you think or know enemy soldiers are around, you should build it up against the base of a tree. That way, the plume of smoke goes up the trunk and is broken up by the branches before it enters the open air. It also helps to burn fuels that produce white smoke, which is harder to pick out against the sky. Kermit knew those things too, and put 'em into practice."

"The day finally came for Kermit when his raft was complete, and he felt okay enough to leave. So he made a leap of faith, poled out into the deep water with a crude paddle, and left that awful Skull Island behind him for good. The rest was days and nights of drifting through the empty ocean, sheltering from the sun as best he could, capturing fish with his handmade pole, and then us coming across him, to make it short and sweet."

"Again, I can barely imagine going through all that suffering, far less surviving it," Ann commented. "At least it was finally over for that poor fellow on your ship though. Speaking of which, did you ever manage to get him back to India or to England?"

"I wish so, but no," the first mate sighed regretfully, gaze returning to his bottle of beer. "When he'd finished telling us about what'd happened to him on the island, he was tired and emotional, as you'd probably expect. He'd relived experiences that he clearly didn't want to-but I personally think that Kermit felt he had to, to warn us, no matter how tough it would be, kinda like I'm doing with you."

"And for better or worse, thank you, awful as it was."

"But to get back to the point. Kermit told us that he wanted to go back to his bunk and sleep some more, since retelling his ordeal had been very hard on him and disturbing. We didn't blame him. Before he did though, many of us heard Kermit ask the ship's head cook, Saul Bjornstad, if he could take one of the knives from the galley to his bunk with him. The reason he gave was that it was for reassurance, because ever since escaping from Skull Island, he always felt like he was being watched and would have to defend himself at any moment. Again, we didn't blame him."

"We should've known better than to allow such a thing. But no one thought there was any harm in it. While I was sleeping soundly that night, some crew members who were on duty or awake at the time reported hearing a terrible, strangled sort of noise from Kermit's bunk. They assumed it was yet another nightmare he was having, and that he'd come round. The next morning, he didn't show up for breakfast, and Matt was sent to go tell him. Suddenly, we all heard Matt scream in horror. I came rushing over with all the others to Kermit's room, and we saw that he'd killed himself with the knife-"

"I knew it," Ann said sickly. "But go on."

"jabbing the blade right through his heart."

"What a tragedy!" Ann bemoaned. "Why would he do such a pointless thing, take his own life after he was finally safe, and headed back to civilized society?"

"That question haunts me too, Miss Darrow," Hayes replied. "I honestly don't know. Kermit might've felt guilty that only he survived when the other fellas didn't, and decided he wasn't worthy of living or should be back with them again. His nightmares and his memories of the island might've been so horrible and so intense that he felt he was better off dead instead of having to relive them over and over again. Maybe he simply just couldn't stand the knowledge that a place like Skull Island even existed at all. But the bottom line is that the place messed Kermit up so badly that he couldn't cope with what it'd done to him."

"What did you do with his body?" Ann asked. "Did you bring it back to India or bury him at sea?"

"We buried Kermit Edward Oxley at sea, with the best military sendoff that we could manage," the former Harlem Hellfighter reverently half-whispered, the vision of the man's shrouded body sliding underneath the aquamarine surface reappearing in his mind. "Our captain telegraphed the sad, strange news to his superiors in Goa, who then relayed it to his family in Swansea. And that was the end of the entire incident."

There was one last decent swallow of beer in the first mate's bottle. He downed it before looking the actress in her great sapphire eyes and grimly, coolly asking, "So Miss Darrow, that is why I don't just think Skull Island exists, I know it does. Are you sorry now that you got me to spill all the beans about it?"

Ann gave a reedy breath, her petite shoulders tense under her shirt. From what Hayes could notice, it seemed like she was smoothly running her hands up and down her thighs, an action that he'd seen her do before when especially nervous.

"Well," she shakily responded, "Yes and no at the same time. I've read about and heard about some very horrible things that have happened to some poor soul, but sweet baby Jesus, nothing as disturbing as that! And to think that we're headed right into the thick of a horror like that…Now I think I know how Marlow might've felt in Heart of Darkness, going up the river into the jungle," she quivered. "I almost wish I hadn't prodded so deeply now," she chastised herself, eyes wandering to her feet.

"That's what you get sometimes for being curious," Hayes pragmatically yet gently admonished her, shrugging his ox shoulders. "You may dig out something you didn't want to find."

"Yeah," Ann agreed. "Yet…I'm still glad you told me anyhow Hayes," she lightly smiled, looking back up at him. "To be forewarned is to be forearmed, right?"

"Absolutely Miss Darrow. Hopefully you can see though, why I and most of the crew desperately hope that Carl…well, doesn't find what he's looking for."

"Hah, all too clearly now," she bluntly muttered. "Sounds like a true green hell to me if there ever was one. All those savage beasts and natives…" A quiver went through her slim frame.

The first mate's lethargy was implacable. He yawned once more.

"Well Miss Darrow," he remarked, "I'm headed to my bunk now. But keep in mind the warning Kermit told us, and that I've now passed on to you. If we have the misfortune to find that island, and you set foot on it, the chances that you won't see New York again are all too good."

"I'll pos-i-tive-ly be thinking about that now, believe me," she solemnly replied.

"Good," the first mate gravely responded as he rose from his chair. Wrapping his massive fingers around the emptied bottle, he strode over to the trash and deposited it inside.

As he walked out of the galley, Hayes paused and turned to look at Ann. Something about her demeanor compelled him to offer some form of reassurance in parting.

"Oh, Ann?"

"Yeah Ben?"

"Whether we find Skull Island or not, and whether you choose to go ashore or not, there's something else you need to know that's even more important than Kermit's awful experiences."

"What's that?"

"Well…There are an awful lot of people on this ship," the first mate divulged, "that like you, that support you, that know you're a special woman, and would do absolutely anything for you at a moment's notice. In fact, I think one man around here might even love you," he added, thinking of how he'd noticed Jack's behavior changing dramatically around her as time passed.

Ann was touched. "Thank you Mr. Hayes," she replied, a faint pink coming into her cheeks as she half-bashfully smiled. "That's really sweet of you to tell me that. And I-I like quite a lot of you too."

"You're very welcome. Have a good night Ann Darrow," he fondly dismissed before closing the galley door and walking to his cabin with a commanding, confident gait, partnered with a glowing sense of protectiveness and loyal chivalry. Later, it would send him after her into the most terrible rainforest on earth, where Kermit's demon-god made flesh held sway-and showed no quarter toward intruders.


Thanks Maran Zelde and RebeccaAnn for your nice reviews of this story! I have this feeling like I should've added a bit more material to that last part, but it may just be my imagination.