The Winds Speak
The raven night sky blanketed the Arctic lands, covering all in a pitch-black veil. The only relief from the stark jet cauldron was the pale light from the full moon that hung over head. The light sea blue effulgence, shinned down on the sleeping ship. It bathed with radiant and luminescent glows of fading pearl and sapphire. Her decks were quiet now, all but devoid of life. Her crew was sound asleep, after a long hard day. As soon as their captain gave them the order to remove the ice, they did. Yet the task was more difficult than expected. Hours they spent on the slippery snows, hacking and chopping away, and still they accomplished little of the job. The crystal water was as hard as rock. And for every bit they seem to chip away, more seemed to appear. It was as if the devil's cold grip would not let them go. Rumors began to arise, that a curse was upon this trip. A bane of darkness and evil, which would seal all who ventured into this world, in a rotting grave. Their only companion would be the maggots and worms that feasted on their shredded corpses. The poisoned words slithered and corrupted their sleep. If any of the men did in fact, receive any sleep.
The lights on the ship, which were on, were those that belong to the captain. The helm of the ship glowed like a great burning eye. Staring and defying the darkness that sought to contain it. Inside the flame, captain Lev Oleg sat drinking his coffee. Behind him, his wheelman Rustam, stood against the Oakwood furnished drive. They sat in silence, enjoying the peace of the wasteland. No animals, no cars, nothing to disturb the utter rapture and ecstasy. Lev closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to heavenly worlds. Swimming in the streams of levity, dropping all restrains against the currents that pulled.
"Such a beautiful night," the young man whispered to the room. "You don't see many like this."
"No you don't," the captain replied back. "This moment was worth the entire trip. This peace, this slice, of eternal paradise."
Suddenly the winds picked up, carrying on its wings, a long moaning cry. A morn which swept across a million years of frail mortality. A wail, filled with anguish and sorrow. Groaning its grievances to any that would hear. The men's hearts and bodies shuddered then, shaking to the bone of what was echoing in the night. The call lasted for what seemed an eternity, until finally; it faded into the frozen waters.
"What was that," the impressionable youth lightly spoke.
His eyes were wide, full of fright, at what just sounded from the black voids. He stared at his commanding officer for the answer, but Lev was silent. His features were as twisted and gaped, as Rustam's own. Sweat dripped from their bodies, falling to the floor in puddles of rippling terror. Their souls were poured from their earthly bodies, stripped away in the talons of the cloudy skies.
Then, the howl deplored again. This time, much closer. The noise resounded among the hollowed shell of the ship. Beating its power against the steel sides like a demon's drum. Men, who had been sleeping, undisturbed, were sent crashing to the floors. Thrown down from the waves of hated malice, that screamed into their minds. Clawing at the flesh, tearing into their memories, their deepest horrors.
"Sir, what do we do," the wheelman pleaded for answers.
But no reply was given. The strong Russian man was a prone statue next the window; staring out onto the glossy metal decks. He tried to peer through the falling sable cloth. Trying to see what demon was shouting from the pits of hell.
Soon after, without warning, the diabolical sin-clad fiend descended. The creature was huge, his form, blocking out the streaming beams of shining moonlight. The beast towered on the land, mocking what dared to stand against it. And as it stepped forward, nearing, it became clearer. The animal was beyond the scope of imagination. Just the mere visage of the demon, sent those who looked upon it, into cringing children. Sanity was crossed, and madness ran supreme.
Two great, chiseled legs, raised the fallen angel to the heavens. Each slag of blood mesh and bone, ended in a three clawed, webbed foot. Which even now, Lev could see, rack its paw across the broken glassy ice, causing deep scaring rifts in natures beauty. At it's sides, where arms might have been, flapped a pair of leathery wings. Each tipped with, at their joints, three scythe like claws. Behind it, a powerful sinewy tail crashed and beat the ground. And then, after staring up the oak sage stature, speckled with dark splotches, the face gleamed upon a powerful muscular neck. In its mouth, two saber-tipped, canine teeth, jutted outwards from its upper maw. It's head was adorned with a single short dagger like cranial horn. In deep-set sockets, twin glowing orbs, flamed with life. Shimmering with blazing lust, the yellow eyes, never blinked, always staring into the men's souls.
With each step, the blasphemous monster, cried into the endless ebony plains. And with each cry, tears issued from the ship's crew. Tiny screams of mingling insects, running for their pathetic lives. Lev and his wheelman though, stood still. Each refused to move. Stone ran through their blood. And pride clocked their hearts. This ochre hued giant would not defy their courage. It would not stamp out their bravery.
The mammoth creature growled, like grinding rock, as it stopped its advance. Its baring teeth, fenced heatedly at the stuck vessel. Suddenly the great destroyer opened its maw wide, spanning the jaws to a gigantic orifice of daggers. Each human could stare right down the tunneling trap, looking at the dripping foam of desire against the blood red meat inside. Then, following the yawning mouth, the air was befell with a growing hiss. A sound that resembled escaping fumes from the depths of the earth, calling for cleansing and purity to be bestowed upon the filth of man.
Suddenly, from the fanged maw, a great gout of frozen cries were breathed. A sheet of white, swirling fury that wormed and twisted itself upon the ship. Men and machinery were instantly blanketed in a brittle frost, their screams of utter martyrdom torture, clinging to their lips. Grasping to the fleshy agony stripped lungs and throat. With each second that passed, the cold hand of death clasped tighter. Dragging on the suffering for as long as possible. It was as if the demon's mere breath had a life of its own.
One of the men, caught in the frothing maelstrom of hate, crawled about the deck aimlessly. He tried to make his way to the side of the boat, where the life rafts were kept. He never got far. In short time, his skin burned. Stinging his frail mortal body like soaring flames of hell's forge. He watched as soft pink skin, was transformed into steel crystal. Glassing over his shape like an oozing plague. Throughout the upper decks, the same scene was played over and over again. Never once ending the carnage that the monster was bestowing.
Finally, the winged fiend ceased its bloodbath. Halting its fowl breath, only to set its eyes on the murder it granted. The sailors were now like ghosts in the wind. Their pain, and last moments of anguished lives, set frozen against their twisted faces. Above the slaughter, the captain and his wheelman looked on with tear stained eyes. All of them, gone in but a flash. Rustam slowly stepped back from the frost laced window, curling into a sniffling child, onto the floor. The man buried his head in his arms, whispering ever so softly over and over again, that he would wake up from his dream. But Lev Oleg knew the nightmare was real, and that this would be the end of the Iron Brokkr's sailing days. Even as his thoughts drifted across the countless memories of his aged mind, the blasphemous creature approached closer.
Huge striding steps brought the mass of meat and demise nearer to the still vessel. The animal's huge cobalt eyes reflected brief perplexing at the silent steel. Slowly it moved around the tempered hull, cocking its head left to right, studying the machine with growing distrust.
Then, without warning, the boat sprang to life. The twin massive propeller blades that gave speed to the ship; turned feverishly in the water and ice. Chopping through the frozen stone, and forcing the vessel to flee slowly. Lev looked back at the wheel controls, incredulously, astonished to find his friend wracked with fear, thrusting the throttle forward. He slammed the lever to the floor, snapping the gearshift shaft like kindle wood. Fear and dementia gripped the sailor, driving his body to escape. Ignoring his mind, and obeying only instincts.
"Idiot," Lev cried out as he leapt for the controls.
Lashing down his friend, he sought to halt the vessel. But death was already set in motion. The sudden blast of life from the once silent foe drove the ice demon to attack. Clubbing its leathery wings against the man made vessel, the animal desired to end the ships vain attempts of escape. Layers of steel and iron cried out in protest as the monster unleashed its centuries of malice. Support beams cracked and gave way to collapsing weight. Once a great ship, that was the pride of Russian technology, the Iron Brokkr split in two. The newly separated halves quickly flooded with millions of gallons of glacier sea water. As the torn metal sank slowly, it carried with them the frozen and mangled corpses of many good souls.
The huge leviathan looked with soulless eyes. They were unmoved and unwavering. This titanic metal creature had invaded its icy domain, had made a mistake that resulted in it paying the ultimate price. No creature shall ever stand against the solitude and seclusion that embodied Peguila. He had awoken to a world of pesky, screaming, carrion creatures that destroyed whatever they touched. The creature's muzzle twitched sporadically in the air. It's delicate and lengthily whiskers fluttered in the howling winds that whipped and tongued the giant's form. Peguila's highly adapted olfactory senses could perceive the faint wisps of other life. They reeked of an odious smell. These insects would not be tolerated in his kingdom.
Howling into the cavern of the night, the dominate creature streaked into the air on wings of murdered fate. Arms spanned the skies, blotting out the gleaming moonlight rays. Death would again be delivered to those whom wish to tread on his domain.
The dozen or so scientists crawled and wormed themselves beneath the smashed computer terminals that littered the cracked tile floors. Their hands danced from wire to wire, vainly trying to breathe life back into the electronic hardware. Whatever had happened at the base really did a number on everything. Damaged heaters were cranked up to their fullest, but could do little to overcome the seeping cold that wormed it's way in. They might have had a chance to stem the breezes with boards, if Boris Yaroslav's soldiers would have lend a hand. The men however were under different orders outside the military installation. The general had decreed that the men prepare a perimeter. All around the building, the men scrambled to construct defensive positions. Some sat in frost covered, sandbagged, gun turrets. While others squatted behind bolted down mortars.
Gaafa and Vadim looked on in questioning manner from the recesses of a fractured doorway. They knew little of computers and thought that offering their assistance to the other men would be a hindrance. Both Russians felt like the mediocre third wheel of the two groups. The chubby volcanic expert had spend most of the time with his own equipment, but the readings that he was receiving were distressful. This "epicenter" was still on its way to the base, moving at about forty miles an hour. Heat readings from some of Russia's orbital satellites; satellites that he was given permission from the government to access, were continuing to rise. Whatever was happening in that seismic event, was making a straight bee-line for their position. He couldn't explain how this was possible since no known fault line existed this far north of the planet.
"I don't know about you but the sight of all those itchy trigger fingers out there is making me a wee bit nervous," the paleontologist joked in mocking gesture against the overbearing military presence. "Can't really figure out why those dudes seem so worried. I mean what the heck is going to get us all the way out here. I mean the only signs of life this far north is that piece of fossilized skeleton they showed me."
"Could you tell what animal that fossil came from," the young man's friend questioned back.
"Didn't really have any time to look it over all that well," he retorted. "All I could tell was it was mammalian from its basic structure. Though I got to tell you, it wasn't the bone itself that got my interest peaked. It was the carbon dating that came with it. The fossil itself only dates to be about three hundred years old."
"Impossible," Gaafa scoffed with almost laughter in his voice. "Damn government funded facilities. They really screwed up that test didn't they."
"Yeah that's what I am thinking too," Vadim joshed back. "But hey think of it, imagine if that thing was still alive. From the size of the tooth it would put it at about fifty or so feet in length. That be one heck of a thing to see."
Suddenly a commotion arose among the computer scientists behind them. The two Russians turned just in time to see several of the computer screens spring to life. Their phosphorous screens were like beacons of hope. Half of their godforsaken mission was now over. Now all they had to do was download the hard drives and get the heck out of this freezing climate.
General Boris marched into the building, his breath sending trailing smoke behind him. He approached the largest of the screens and touched it faintly against its LCD surface. A slight thin smile curled as his eyes bathed in the artificial light.
"Very good," his voice deemed to the room. "Begin cloning the hard drive in duplicate. After that, wipe out every machine here."
Gaafa's head pulled back at the unusual orders. He could understand trying to salvage the facilities gathered information, but to destroy it afterwards seemed a bit shady. This whole expedition spewed of lies and deceit. By the end of all of this, the assured man would deem that he would be need of taking a long extended vacation.
The proud and enigmatic Russian General walked outside; which he was soon then approached by a lean faced soldier. The General filled his massive lungs with the cold air, holding it in until his very chest burned with lively energy. The arrival to the station had not gone according to his plans. This was not going to be the swift and militaristic operation that he was briefed on. Thankfully he had the foresight to set up two contingency stratagems.
"I understand sir we have orders," the obedient gunman, named Vaslov Chvoz, began. "But the animal has proven to be more aggressive than the previous initial reports. I managed to recover this from one of the security cameras outside without the civilians or soldiers noticing."
The battle tested young man withdrew a portable camera from the recess of his layered coat. Opening the screen visor from it's side, he showed his commanding officer the horror which befell the area. Boris watched with disdain as the machine revealed a huge and massive creature approaching the camera's viewfinder. It was gigantic, easily as large as the civilian ship that had brought them to this hellish world. It's skin was leathered and worn. Overlapping fatty hide shook and recoiled from the beast's slightest movements. It's dull cobalt blue husk shown lifelessly against the pure white contrasting snow. The most dangerous feature of the animal was the twin saber like tusks that grew from the top of its maw. They glimmered with savoring drool that was flung from left to right as it crawled forward on a heap of weight.
"Looks a like giant walrus to me," the naïve soldier spoke with laced hesitation.
"It does resemble the same creature the station had reported of a week ago," Boris firmly spat back in annoyance. "It's aggressiveness has certainly increased. Never the less, it has proved it's lethality to humans. Have the men made contact with the Iron Brokkr."
"No luck," Vaslov sighed with rue. "We lost contact about an hour ago and have yet to been able to reestablish it,"
"Where is the location of the Kirvako and the Udaloy now," the dark man hissed.
"The submarine Kirvako is about three miles west and the destroyer Udaloy is twelve miles to the south," he informed his commander.
"Tell the Udaloy to have its Helix's to be on standby. Order the Kirvako to our destination. We will use it to leave this place."
"What about the Iron Brokkr," exclaimed the young soldier in a slightly raised voice. "It might still be out there. Their radio might just be down."
"If you have been unable to establish radio communications with them for this long, then the Iron Brokkr is already gone," Boris spoke flatly with little emotion. "That creature is out there and has proved its hostility. What we have to do now is retrieve that information as soon as possible. Tell the men to be on the lookout and report to me if they see anything unusual. Tell no one of what you have seen. There is no need to get them worried if the creature does not reappear in our short stay here. Let us pray that it does not indeed."
