Island of Despair

Death seeped, billowing from the ground underneath.

Rotten roots grew outwards from the dirt ground, twisting and turning into deformities as they saw fit. Its noxious stench lingered in the air above, turning it into a necrotic miasma. The bog that circulated the small island was filled with diseased life. The grotesque vile gazes of demonic monsters were scattered on, above, and under the island. Their vile nature contaminates the air they walk through.

Creatures that held no significance flew about, laying their eggs onto the disgusting water and dying right after. Their cycle of rebirth only lasts for a day at most till the next period begins, the only meals they could ever fetch would be creeping moss, and if by the grace of those Devils that lurked in the skies pretending to be gods, they would find meat or a clump of dead brethren laying on the white lands called bones.

The stench of dead putrid corpses lingered above, making the still water become scum-filled. Deformed entities bellowed from the still water and gasped for air–Their dull scales seeping in scum–before scurrying back underneath.

The echoes of buzzing filled the land and lake that surrounded the land. The trees that spurt out of the lake were gnarled–their branches twirling around themselves and their leaves in geometric shapes– Their bark a sickly crimson as if blighted by an inescapable plague.

Arcs of taintless white bones laid above the lake. Hundreds of them laid above, forming the shape of a mythical serpent. At the end of the arcs was a serpent's head, its taintless fangs sunk into the small island that was centered in the lake.

Its hollowed eyes are home to thousands of insignificant critters. Their chirps drowning in the buzz, mixing and conforming into it. They would skitter and burrow within the porcelain structures, gluttonously and mercilessly scouring to find remnants of flesh or cartilage. And so help them if a group of those critters die, for the surrounding ones will drive their flat thin mouths into a sea of indulgeful monsters in order to have a taste of sustenance. yet they did not brave to enter the dark waters below. For they knew all too hideously what lurked underneath those ravenous waters.

Instead, they evolved–their flat teeth gnawing–to eat the moss that crept onto the skull of the serpent. Behind their teeth was a tube–suction was what it was made for–it blew inwards and grasped the eaten moss and delivered it to the pouch of acid inside their body.

Soon the sun's rays fell and the insidious darkness followed. The buzzing slowly dwindled into silence. Only the faint whispers of the wind showered the lake and island at this time.


The sun rose once more. Its rays of red light shone brightly onto the land. Insignificant creatures and critters woke and began their short lived rebirth once more.

The red ominous shafts shone brightly through the rotten deformed trees and onto any of those who hid from its knowing presence-Leaves swaying slightly from the breeze that ran though-With a glare mightier than that of gods, it laughed with the sound of sizzling at those who crawled underneath its light.

The sound of unending buzzing rang throughout the lake and land once again.

A slab of stone–Its edges eroded from time and weather, and dark putrid moss clung onto it–Stood haphazardly in the center of the island. Forgotten for eons and deserted in nowhere. Flocks of saliva dripping, split slithering tongued creatures–Their hollow bones protruding from their vile wings–Squabbled around the slab stone. Their clumps of feathers clung onto them as if they were separate entities.

They pecked the grim ground–searching for food–Till one of their flock member's beaks shattered against something hard. The deformed creature panicked–Its wings flapping cowardly, trying to look intimidating. Yet failed.

In mere moments the flock gathered around the injured one–their beaks pulling out tendons and feathers- the injured creature could not do anything except scream. But even its shrills of pain were cut short as another flock member's beak pierced its throat. Its eyes popped–splattering green translucent blood everywhere–Its feathers plucked, stripping it from any subliminal dignity it had. Without hesitation or shred of mercy, the horde pierced the deformed skin that hid under its feathers. The sides and chest cavity pierced–spitting out green blood. Chunks of beating flesh were devoured with voracious indulgence. Their shrieks of satisfaction filled the small land, echoing horrible as if a reminder to those who fail to survive in this accursed world.

As they scurried back with hubris demeanors–Their bellies full–They left the bones of their meal scattered on the ground. The evidence of their abhorrent acts of cannibalism still lingered there but in mere moments the earth underneath it–swallowed everything up. No gaping hole ate the bones, no teeth of the damn came up. The bones of the cannibalized creature simply sank down. Leaving nothing behind, only the stench of despair lingered there as a reminder.


A serpent with eyes layered on its back–Gazing around its environment–Slithered out of the water with bog covering it from head to the end of its tail. On its sides were small sharp mandibles, their clicking drowned in the unending incomprehensible buzzing. They clicked and clattered as they ripped off the bog that covered them.

The slithering serpent's split tongue rose from its mouth–clacking in the air–The horrid smell that fogged the air was all it could taste, yet, within that taste was a sweet, iron taste that hid. Its intertwining self was barely noticeable to any other creature.

Its split tongue hid back in the serpent's jaw once more and with hasty movements, it slithered towards the sweet, iron taste. As it neared the smell of the dying living became stronger–The serpent's jaw clattered in excitement–Its eyes wildly searched the surrounding area and further. Its belly rumbled a gluttonous roar.

Traces of blood streaked the grim ground and deformed trees. Branches were snapped into fragments, scattered across the ground. Traces of handprints littered the waists of trees–their shape abnormal.

The serpent's eyes brimmed with excitement. If it could speak it would have giggled in happiness. It's been far too long since it ate its last meal. The serpent had slithered through a small thorned brush–The brush's leaves a light crimson.

And beyond that was a bleeding corpse. Long protruding spikes of dotted bone came from its back–Cracks filled it and pieces of fragments littered the small area–A gaping hole was centered on its stomach, the smell of fecal matter and blood poured out of it. Lying beneath the gaping whole was shredded intestines and gore. Its legs snapped in opposing ways. The creature's long hairless forearms held a gash that ran deep and across it–The sickening pouring of blood pooled around it. The stench of death was fresh.

The serpent's split tongue hissed in excitement. Food, at last! The trills of happiness sang loudly in its mind. The layered eyes all fixated on the dead corpse, they glimmered in hunger, starving hunger. Within moments, the serpent's body contracted in of itself and bolted outwards. The speeds of it defying normality.

The serpent had made it to its desired meal, its eyes glimmered in anticipation–its split tongue whipping around, just barely out of reach from the corpse.

SWWIIIIINGGGG

But all of its exuding starvation and happiness came to a halt. As it realized that its eyes became blind.

It tried to look, but the action seemed to not be there, as if his nerves were severed from doing so. In fright, the serpent started to hyperventilate, yet its lungs did not fill up with air. Only spurts of air flowed out of the serpent.

Its head had been picked up–White blood fell onto the ground, and an oozing pool took shape beneath the serpent– With dimming life, the serpent viewed its severed body. A clean precise cut was seen. It spurted with white blood pathetically. The severed body's eyes began to dilate and the body itself began to desperately coil in of itself as if trying to make its existence small. The severed head processed this all dully as an inescapable darkness began to consume its mind.

At the edges of its vision, a whip-like tail–A axe made of bone was at the end of it–whipped around happily.

The tendrils of darkness heavily distorted the serpent's view, just like it does with every dying creature. The serpent's head rose to the pinnacle of the arm's length of whatever creature severed it. Rows and rows of flat glistening yellow teeth were beneath the serpent. The serpent's mandibles crushed by the grip of the entity.

The creature let loose, and as if time distorted for the serpent, it viewed its meaningless life from birth to his destined death.

Then.

Nothingness.


Fading.

Fading into nothingness,

How blissful it is to cease to exist.

To not even process life or death in any capacity.

The horrifying feeling of living is destroyed. The eternal dread of dying vanquished.

Yet, while being processed into nothingness, there are some who wish to be brought back. To the land of horrors, the land of regrets and guilt, the land of responsibility and choices, the land of crisis and dread.

Why?


Night fell upon the land, the incomprehensible buzzing dwindled into nothingness once more. The sound of faint winds carrying the despair and hope of the isle. The green moon laid upon them now, its omniscient shafts faintly laying across the water. The image reflects back to the dark empty sky.

The bodies of the foolish and anguish ceased to exist. Sinking into the ground and dissipating into blissful nothingness. Their souls never to reincarnate again in the system we call life. Forever gone in the empty void.

The winds never struck anyone, not in these parts at least. They carried the doubts, wisdom, despair, hope, tragedy, and every conceivable emotion of life on their shoulders. This was their sole burden that weighed heavily on its shoulders.

Yet, the winds showed comfort to those who survived yet another day. This was not the burden it was tasked with but nonetheless, it comforted effortlessly. All while the green moon watched above. Its rays showered onto the lands and bog-filled water with a sort of kindness that was only comparable to that of the winds.

These two were the only kindness that was shown to the creatures below, that filled the waters and land.

The sun–Day– wasn't as kind–caring–.

The heat was scorching to all except the creatures who adapted. The endless buzzing never ceases to stop, as if it was a constant reminder that this is the type of world the creatures lived in. The unfaithful, angry, scheming, gluttonous creatures held no regard to anything other than that, that would fill their pouches–Bellies–.

The bog-filled lake was if not worse than that on land. Hundreds if not millions of small insignificant critters would rush underwater with all their might. Trying to feast on anything, even if it was inedible. Only bones of those whose titles were that of mystical, were able to survive the erosion and sinking.


The rays of a new day broke the sky and filled the waters and plains with light, red gory light. The inescapable buzzing took place once more on the world, drowning everything else in its unceasing sound. The deformed, plague-like creatures took up arms once more. The willingness to survive brimming in their souls.

Serpents, bipedal fishes, and razor-sharp amethyst worms crawled up from the bog-filled waters. Their pouches–Bellies–Growled in hunger. Their teeth, fangs, and mandibles clatter in anticipation. Their hope for a meal never ceases to disappear as they awake to a new day.

Deformed birds–their bones protruding out of their wings–Flew in circles around the island like hungry vultures. Their gazes loomed below them in anxious anticipation for a creature to die a worthless conforming death.

The land creatures–Their deformities horrid and putrid stenches oozed out from them–Trekked out of their secluded shelter and into the bright searing. Their wits flourished once more as they awoke once again. They bathed in the red rays for only a brisk moment before hunting.


The painful shrill of a mother echoed through the land. Her womb carried sixteen abominations, their kicks and whipping tails making outwards marks on the mother's belly. But she painfully trudged onwards, searching for scraps of food.

Her whip-like tail–An axe made of bone at the end of it– scraped the ground, showing signs that her health was deteriorating. Her sunken eyes that were shielded by mucus-like substance faltered.

Her trembling exhaustion impairing her movement, her heavy heaving clouding in front of her deformed saliva dripping thin lips. Her mind was fogging with every moment, her identity, purpose hazing into nothingness. But even so, the instinct of a mother persevered.

Red and white leaves mixed on top of the treelines, shimmering as the burning rays laid upon them. Her nose rose yet the smell of despair was all she smelled, her nose flared before lowering back to its regular spot.

She trudged on, the motherly instinct to eat, to feed the entities that inhabit her womb burned. That was the only thing–emotion–that kept the demonic creature from dying and being swallowed by the despair lingering ground.

After all, hunger, her gluttonies hunger for sustenance vanished from the moment those monstrosities kicked her womb from the inside. All she had left was the will of a mother. After that, she'll likely die, her offspring entering the cruel harsh despair-filled lands, while the ground swallows her up into nothingness.

A small hoarse sound escapes her. Her back legs gave out and kneed to the ground, their shaking only proved that her deformed body was nearing an end. But she persevered, the motherly instincts not allowing her to dissipate into bliss.

She lifted her back legs with great difficulty, the painful trembles spreading across her atrocious body.

She trudged forward, the plains scorching a hideous heat. She walked through bushes of thorn, cutting her skin–Blue blood oozed out–.

She explored the island, seeking out food or refreshments that were safe to drink. The bog-filled water that filled the lake was not only filled with toxicities that would kill any non-amphibian or non-water with ultimate ease. There were also nightmarish incomprehensible demonic creatures that lurk under those filthy waters.

A scent, a sweet familiar scent touched her nose. With speeds that were conjured with her motherly willpower, she sped towards the scent. Hunger growling in her stomach and her womb.

As she exploded from another thorned bush–more blood seeping but not enough to be considered harmful–She sat her eyes on a glowing treeling that held radiant purple sleeping fruits on the edges of its branches.

With relief coursing through her tired body, she trudged over there, her mouth weakened to the point that saliva was not able to produce normally. She widened as best as she could and ripped the fruits off the branches with her teeth.

The sleeping fruits awoke and their surface began to morph into screaming children. Their wails of pain reverberated through the island but were soon cut short by the mother's tail-like whip. They held their morphed face but without the treeling's essence flowing through them they could not make even the smallest of peeps. They splattered on the ground, purple liquid came out of them as the color began to vanish from them.

She hungrily, and happily munched on the now colorless fruits. The sweetness of the fruit watered down her throat and exploded with flavor on her tongue. Her tail-like whip danced happily.

As she finished, she licked her lips–Her chin smothered with colorless liquid–And walked away from the now dimming treeling, the edge of the branches dangling as if it lost all its support. But it did not matter to the mother, no, not at all, since the treeling will grow more next month.

But even still, that treat was not enough to satiate her and her baby's hunger. Nonetheless, they will have to make do with it.

She trekked through the thorny bushes with a new objective in mind: Find water.


Dusk approached like a comfortable blanket. The searing hot heat that radiated cooled as the rays of the red sun began to dwindle gradually. Yet the abominable mother still walked tiredly for a drink of water. Not for her but for her children that resided in her.

The island was large, no, massive. It stretched far and wide making it a horrible place to thrive in. For that was all it was, no matter how far the island traveled, it was simply an island. A landmass that ended with its edges in the nightmarish waters.

Fresh, drinkable water is a luxury to find. An even more luxury to indulge in such waters.

The mother continued to trudge on–Painful scars across her body seared and dry blue blood spread across her towards the ground–Her eyes were droopy as well as her whip-like tail. Her womb kicked viciously, demanding more substance.

And she obliged. She will find more. It was a mother's duty to cater to her children after all.

Minutes turned into hours, but that was alright.

Her legs trembled but she kept steady, her willpower will not be deterred or stomped on now. Her deformed body filled with scars as she kept on walking a horrible walk, but if it were for her children then it was alright.

She will face dangers, demons, starvation, ruthless weather, incomprehensible waters, and endless buzzing for her children that were yet to be born. Her motherly instincts demanded it so, and so it will be done for her species' love for one another is greater than any dangers that stalked around the corner.

Grrrke

She let out a growl of finality.

For finally, the sound of water could be heard with her diseased bitten ears that laid inwards to her body. She followed the sound, the smell of fresh, filtered, clean water assaulted her nose the closer she got.

Her sprint was nothing more than a pathetic jog, her legs trembled too much to perform an action such as that. Her dry thin lips shook with each step she took. Her gaze was hazy yet alert to the surroundings. But her tail was a different story, like a mind that was separate from her being, her tail was raised high as if scouring for enemies.

Unfortunately, the tail had spotted something. Something horrible.

A flock of Tercoco birds stalked her–Their lightweight bones protruding out of their wings–Their gluttonies eyes holding fierce malice as they loomed over the overly pregnant mother. The mother growled a hideous sound, her gaze sharp as the Tercoco began to lower.

They were the worst of the worst. Savage monstrosities that would eat their own kin without a second thought. They would butcher their prey slowly and take turns in torturing it while shrieking in laughter as if it was a simple game to them.

As they flew closer in circles, they began to let out shrikes of amusement while others began to unhinged their beaks–Long slithering tongues came out, the tip slit in half–Drool lathered the tongue in a disgusting manner, sharp inwards skin needles sat on the tongue, like a cat's tongue.

GKKKAAACH!

The mother screamed out. Her marble whipping around, the sound of snapping drowning in the shrike of utter amusement. They began their attack, swooping down, they used their split tongue to grapple onto trembling limbs but quickly found it to be a terrible mistake.

SWOOOOISH!

The marble axe swung down and severed the tongue by slicing the beak off, copious amounts of white blood shot out, much more than what the measly body of the Tercoco could hold. The marble axe went on, slicing bodies in pieces, smashing their head with the flat side of her axe, ripping them apart through their genitals and across their midsection.

White putrid blood sprayed, it covered her whole form and more. That sharpened gaze of hers never leaving and only intensifying with shrilling wrath. She crushed the creatures that lay on the ground with her white splattered hoof.

Yet.

Yet, the horrible laughing fits of superiority still continued, unfazed, unrelenting, unwilling to change. Dozens upon dozens of birds laid upon each other, their bodies sliced, chests minced, bones shattered, skulls smashed, wings ripped. The amount of white marble-like blood that drenched the ground was indescribable.

The shrikes grew louder, more menacing than before. Her white-covered eyes gazed above tiredly, exhaustion overwhelming her. Hundreds of Tercoco swarmed above the treelines, like a pool of shadows. Their flapping and shrikes of sordid amusement were only strifed by the unending, unyielding, unfaltering buzzing.

But even still, the ambition of a mother would never yield to a flock of disgraceful cannibalizing pathetic birds.


The sound of tearing and ripping mixed horribly with the sound of foul laughter.

Their beaks tore into the fallen demon's eyes, they clamped down and popped them as if they were cherries. They eyed the nerves and tore them out, severing them from what they were connected to. The strings of nerves danced around before getting eaten whole by another flock member.

The demon's hollow eyes gushed out with blue juices, their smell putrid and saddening. The flock members fought viciously as they dug into the demon's skull, plucking out the brain matter inside.

Thumpathumpa

The sound of kicking and thumping was emitted from a pouch near the stomach. Their gazes redirected towards it, silence submersed the area. A flock member hopped forward, his blue smothered beak pecking at the thumping pouch.

Thumpathumpa Thumpathumpa

Confirmation, enjoyment, amusement, futility, immorality, vanity.

Those things–Emotions–Flowed through the air like a crashing wave. Dozens upon dozens of Tercoco stamped their way to the pouch, their eager faces telling their emotions. Their beaks pierced a bag of mucus-like water, and sixteen little delicate creatures came flooding out. Their wails sounded appetizing to the Tercoco.

Soon the wails come to a stop as vile monsters descend on them.


Night shined upon them. The uncontrollable buzzing vanishes and never to come back till the sun rises once more.

The demonic creatures that habited the island and deadly waters came to a halt and slept. Some turned in their sleep due to plagueful nightmares, silently wailing and gasping for an end to their nightmarish torture. Others slept peacefully, without a care for the world as they snored the night away. Some slept hungrily, their insatiable hunger rumbling in their stomach forevermore. And lastly, those who took amusement in others' suffering slept wonderfully. Their dreams consist of nothing but being the torturer.

As the plague they call dreams traversed through the island, it struck a stone slab that stuck out from the ground haphazardly. Words were written on that slab, unrecognizable words, words that came from a different language, place, dimension, world.

The stone slab began to shine a dim orange light, almost to signify a person. It began to beat in an arrhythmic tone. Dimming and shining, dimming and shining, dimming and shining.

And then it stood still, the light shone between dim and brilliance. The words began to morph but the unrecognizable were still that, unrecognizable. It held that light till morning came, till the ending buzzing engulfed the lands and waters once more.

Dimming and shining. Dimming and shining, dimming and shining–

–Like a dying star.