Mockery Deathmatch Episode 4: Displayed
The sky was dark and cloudy, barely showing any light coming through, broken up by the occasional lightning strike and the sound of thunder that drummed the clouds above the island.
The wind blew the sickening tangy and sour smell of iron into the nostrils of persons and beasts alike. Waterfalls and rivers clashed against rocks nearly dyed red by the rain. Animals fled in desperation from the blood while other creatures came out to bask in it.
Groups of survivors ran to find shelter, unsure what the events before them could possibly mean. The skies bled for 3 hours straight. The island foliage was left a soppy mess with blood clotted air bubbles gathering at the soil from the downpour.
Who knew that 300ft underneath this very soil, somewhere on the island, a cursed piece of stone lay buried. A stone that as the earth drank its last droplets, began to pull up to the surface as if pulled by magnetic force, to share in the earth’s newfound delicacy. Just like that, outward sprawled from the ground, something reminiscent of a tomb stone like a plant. As if able to breathe at last, or a child opening its eyes for the first time, its writing glowed a golden light.
---
Chicago, Illinois, 1986 - 12:30 PM
Two children, a boy and a girl pressed their faces against the display case glass, their breath fogging the surface as they stared wide-eyed at the artifacts inside. The little boy wiped his nose across the barrier, leaving a streak.
"Chase! Lilly! Get back here." The woman hurried forward, gently pulling her children away from the exhibit. "I'm so sorry," she said to the small tour group.
"No problem at all," the tour guide replied with a warm smile. He adjusted his thick glasses and smiled. His name tag read Malcolm Hampshire. A thin afro-American fifty something year old with a bushy mustache and a gray button up shirt who still looks on the younger side. His little afro was well taken care of. "Curiosity is exactly what we want to see here."
The group reassembled around him. Besides the mother and her two children, there was an older couple in their seventies. The husband wore a crisp suit despite the warm weather, while his wife had chosen a conservative dress with pearls. A middle-aged man with a reddening face and receding hairline stood slightly apart from the others, checking his watch. Finally, there was a young Asian woman in her early twenties with a white hairband contrasting her black hair. She was holding a notebook, wearing a simple pastel blue sweater and skirt.
"What we have here," the tour guide continued, moving to stand beside the wall-mounted display case, "is a collection of artifacts recovered from various archaeological sites in China. While some scholars believe they may date to the Qing dynasty, the craftsmanship suggests they could be much older."
The display held an array of items: a nearly intact sword with silk cords wrapped around its hilt, several pieces of jade jewelry, a bronze helmet with intricate engravings, and various smaller objects including what appeared to be a stone tablet covered in symbols.
"As you can see, we have this blade in remarkable condition, complete with its original talisman." He pointed to a small carved piece tied to the sword's cord. "Historical accounts suggest these talismans were believed to ward off evil spirits."
The middle-aged man let out a snort. "Come on, you don't actually believe that nonsense, do you? Magic swords and demon fighters? What's next, telling us that the helmet was made for fairies to bathe in?"
Several people in the group shifted uncomfortably. The older man frowned at the interruption, while his wife looked embarrassed. The young woman with the notebook glanced up from her writing.
The tour guide smiled. "I think it's important to approach these artifacts with an open mind. While we can't verify their supernatural claims, we do have extensive historical documentation about the beliefs and practices of these cultures. Whether or not you believe in those aspects, these items clearly held deep significance for the people who created them."
He gestured toward other displays. "Take paleontology, for instance. We regularly uncover fossils of creatures that seem impossible-- animals the size of school buses, or birds with wingspans wider than airplanes. Just because something seems unusual from our modern perspective doesn't mean it didn't exist."
"That's completely different," the man argued. "Those are physical remains. This is just superstition and folk tales."
"Perhaps," the tour guide acknowledged. "But even folk tales can teach us about historical cultures and shed light on what might have happened. Besides, regardless of what you believe sir, you’ve gotta admit it, the craftsmanship alone on these pieces is extraordinary."
The little boy tugged on his mother's skirt. "Mom, look at that stone thing. Is it supposed to glow like that?"
The adults turned to look where the boy was pointing. In the display case, a small black stone piece seemed to glow a golden light.
"Honey, let’s not disrupt the tour." his mother said quietly.
"But mommy it is glowing," the girl whispered, pressing closer to her mother's side.
A murmur went through the group as everyone leaned in to look more closely. "That's... unusual," the tour guide said, stepping closer to the display case.
"What is this, some publicity stunt?" the middle-aged man said.
"I assure you, we're not—" the tour guide began, but his words were cut off by the sound of a sharp crack in the class behind him.
The entire group flinched in shock and fell quiet for a moment. Slowly, the tour guide approached the display to have a closer look, while holding out his hand, gesturing for the others to distance themselves from it. “Okay… Why don’t you all step back a bit while I have myself a lil’ look, alright? I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
The group murmured with concerned glances from 20ft away.
With curiosity, the tour guide studied the display from several angles before putting his ear against the glass. To his surprise, a quiet hissing noise escaped from the display. Stepping away for a brief moment, the group grew less patient.
He came back with gloves on, holding a step stool, then took the display lid off and put it against a wall to the side while he clunkily stepped on it to lower his arm into the glass, carefully reaching for the stone like it’s some entrapped animal.
The middle-aged man scoffed, “Seriously you’ve got to be kidding me, do museums nowadays really make this little money, that they’ve resorted to theatrics!?”
But before he could say more, the display case glass spider-webbed, then shattered with a booming force that sent the tour guide flying towards the group. Glass fragments rained down on the floor next to him. Almost instinctively, the older woman came to his aide, trying to help him up.
When almost in unison, both kids screamed in a high pitched harmony when to everyone’s shock the stone tablet lifted from its mounting, floating in the air as golden light poured from its surface. The light expanded rapidly, swirling around the startled group.
The old man grabbed his wife's arm. "Martha, get back!"
But there was nowhere to go. The light enveloped them all.
Stranded
The golden light faded as quickly as it had appeared.
Cold, thick dirt enveloped the group instantly when everyone realized they had been dropped into a lake of mud. To their horror, it was deep enough to feel no ground underneath. The tour guide surfaced first, spitting out brown water and gasping for air. Sludge and plants hung from his head and his glasses were totally covered.
Around him, panicked voices erupted as the others struggled in the middle of this 30ft wide murky pool.
"Help! I can't" The middle-aged man's voice cut off as he went under again, his suit jacket waterlogged and dragging him down.
"Harold!" The older woman's cry was desperate as she thrashed in the mud, her pearls floating on the surface. Her husband was nowhere to be seen.
The tour guide wiped mud from his eyes, his glasses barely sitting on his face. "Try to find something to hold onto!"
The Asian girl had managed to grab a fallen branch floating off to the side, her glasses now lost in the mud. "There's a log here!" she called out, pointing to a partially submerged tree trunk.
The children were screaming for their mother. The boy had instinctively grabbed his sister when they hit the water, but both were going under. Their mother, out of breath and struggling to carry her own weight, was fighting her way toward them, her now heavy dress tangled around her.
"I've got them!" The tour guide pushed through the thick mud toward the children, his movements slow and labored, trying to keep his head above. The consistency was like quicksand mixed with water - every motion was a struggle.
The older man suddenly broke the surface near the far edge, coughing violently. "Martha! Where are you?"
"Over here!" The older woman had made it to the Asian girl's branch and was clinging to it, gasping.
The middle-aged man resurfaced again, panic written across his muddy face. "What the hell is happening? Where are we?"
"Save it man! Try to get to safety first." The tour guide had reached the children and was pushing them toward their mother. "Everyone needs to get to the edge, now!"
It took nearly twenty minutes of desperate struggling before they all managed to drag themselves out of the mud pool. They collapsed on the muddy bank, covered head to toe in brown sludge, shivering and exhausted.
The older man had swallowed too much of the murky water and was coughing up mud, his breathing heavy. His wife knelt beside him, her hands shaking as she tried to clear mud from his mouth.
"Harold, breathe, just breathe," she whispered, tears cutting tracks through the mud on her cheeks.
The tour guide crawled over to them, "Sir, I need you to try to sit up. Can you hear me?"
Harold nodded weakly, but his breathing was still shallow.
"What the hell is going on!" The middle-aged man stood up unsteadily, mud dripping from his clothes. "How did we go from a museum tour to drowning in some damn swamp!? Is this some kind of joke?”
"Does this feel like a joke to you?" the mother snapped, holding her children close. Both kids were crying, cold and terrified. "We could have died!"
The Asian girl quietly sat to the side while catching her breath.
The middle-aged man spat to his side trying to get the mud out of his mouth. “How could we possibly be in the middle of the woods right now?”
"I don't know, but we need to find help," the tour guide said as he cleaned his glasses. The mother of the children now monitored Harold's breathing. "He needs medical attention. We all need to get warm and clean."
"There has to be a road somewhere," the middle-aged man said, spinning in a circle as he surveyed the forest. "Or a ranger station or something."
"I'm gonna look for help," the middle-aged man declared. "Maybe there’s a gas station out here."
"Now hold on now, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we don’t know where we are. What if you get yourself lost huh? Let me at least come with you." The tour guide said, struggling to his feet putting his half smudged glasses on his face.
Not breaking eye contact with the tour-guide, the man answered “I’m an adult, I’ll be fine on my own, why don’t you worry about them first." The man said in frustration.
The tour guide looked at the shivering children and the old couple.
He then nodded and stepped back slowly.
“Alright then, I’ll stay.”
The middle-aged man was already backing toward the forest. "I'll find a road, call for help, and come back with rescue, make sure he keeps breathing."
Before anyone could protest further, he left.
The remaining group sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. The children cold and restless as their mother was keeping an eye on the older couple.
The tour guide, noticing the discomfort of the children, finally spoke up.
"What’s your name son?”
The little boy sniffled and looked up at the man. “Chase.”
“Chase? What a cool name you got there, did you pick it yourself?”
The boy chuckled, “Nooooo, my mom did of course.”
“Oh your mom did? Of course, of course, how silly of me huh” the tour guide tapped his own forehead. How about you lil’ miss, what is your name?”
Still shy, the girl smiled but hid behind her brother a bit.
“Lilly.” She said without making eye contact.
Acting very surprised, the tour guide said “Wow what a beautiful name, did you pick that yourself?”
The girl still looking to the side, occasionally glancing over quickly said, “Yep.”
Gasping, the tour guide sat up, “You did? Wow you’re so smart!”
Both kids chuckled at the silliness of the tour guide.
“Well, my name is Malcolm, but you can call me Mal.”
The mother managed a weak smile despite her exhaustion. "I'm Helen, nice to meet you Mal, thanks for cheering up the kids.”
Mal smiled warmly and said, “it’s nothing Helen.” The older woman looked up from her husband. "Gosh where are my manners, I'm Martha. This is Harold. Thanks for your help back there, it could've ended real bad in that lake if you hadn’t.”
Malcolm smiled and shook his head. “Glad we all made it out.”
“You too hun, thanks for your help back there,
without that log I wouldn’t have been able to swim.” Martha said, looking at the Asian girl.
She spoke quietly. "I'm Jenny”, smiling awkwardly.
“No worries, I’m glad I could help ma’am.”
The group chatted every now and then with occasional moments of silence. Thirty minutes passed. Then they heard bushes, someone running fast and panicked.
The middle-aged man burst into their clearing, his eyes wide with terror. His face red from being out of breath, while still covered in dry mud patches.
"We have to go! Now!" he gasped, not stopping as he ran past them toward another section of forest.
"Wait!" Malcolm called. "What's out there?"
But the man kept running, crashing through branches in his desperation to get away.
"Should we follow him?" Helen asked, pulling her children to their feet.
When a low, rumbling growl answered her question.
Through the trees, a massive tiger stepped into view.
Its predatory glare locked on the group as it paced around.
A tiger!?” Helen yelled in disbelief, clutching her children close to her.
"Nobody move," Malcolm whispered, his voice barely audible as he got up slowly.
The creature took another step forward.
Harold was trying to sit up, coughing under his breath while holding his leg. “Martha.. My ankle.”
But in the fear of the situation in front of her, she’d frozen in place.
“Ey I’m serious y’all, try not to make any sudden movements.” Mal said, while carefully looking over his shoulder, positioned between the group and the tiger.
Jenny looked at Harold struggling to grab on to his ankle. When her expression changed to shock.
Malcolm backed away, his hands raised defensively, but the animal's eyes never left him, tracking every move he made.
"Easy there big kitty," Malcolm whispered with an increasingly scared tone, sweat mixing with the dried mud.
Malcolm looked behind him again. The children were pressed against their mother, Chase's eyes wide with terror while Lilly buried her face in Helen's muddy dress. Martha was frozen beside Harold, her hand covering her mouth.
He had to keep the tiger focused on him. Away from them.
Malcolm slowly reached down and picked up a chunk of muddy wood. "Hey!" He threw it hard to his left. "Over here!"
The tiger's head snapped toward the sound for a split second, then returned its intense stare to Malcolm. If anything, more agitated.
Behind him, Jenny too was digging around Harold's ankle as she trembled. Harold was weakly mouthing something she couldn't quite understand.
The tiger took another step forward.
Malcolm's heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears. He grabbed another rock, bigger this time. "Come on, look at me! Not them!" As he carefully stepped to the side, luring the beast with him.
The massive cat crouched lower, preparing for ambush. When Malcolm from behind him heard Harold’s voice “Now!” Malcolm’s heart dropped when the beast lunged forward, causing him to stumble backward.
When Jenny revealed a small mud covered pistol, squeezed her eyes shut and shot it.
The gunshot was deafening.
The tiger twisted in mid-air as the bullet caught it somewhere in the shoulder. It crashed to the ground hard, letting out a roar. For a moment it looked like it might attack again, but then retreated quickly.
Everyone stood frozen, ears ringing from the gunshot.
Malcolm turned around slowly to see Jenny holding a smoking gun in her trembling, mud-covered hands. Her face was pale with shock.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Malcolm gasped, still catching his breath.
Jenny stared down at the weapon like she'd never seen it before. "Harold... He was-"
All eyes turned to Harold, who was breathing heavily but managed a weak nod. "Service weapon," he wheezed between coughs. "Carried it for thirty-five years on the force. Still do... even in retirement."
Martha stared at her husband in complete shock. "Harold Eugene Morrison! You never told me you were still carrying that thing around!"
"Well, I’m sure glad he did.." Malcolm said relieved.
Helen was looking around nervously, still holding her children close. "Is it gone? Will it come back?"
Malcolm, listening for any sounds. "I don't know. Maybe. Jenny wounded it, but..."
"That was my last bullet," Harold said quietly, his voice barely audible. "Only kept one round loaded. Figured if I ever needed more than one shot..."
“...and I just wasted it…” Jenny said, looking at the ground.
“Nonsense, I think you did a great job Jenny.” Harold said as he smiled at her.
“But it’s still walking around, what if it comes back for revenge?”
Malcolm walked over and patted her shoulder.
“You saved my life, and that of the others as well. That thing might still be walking around but, at least we get another chance to figure out what next.”
Chase tugged on his mother's sleeve. "Mom, where did the mean man go? He looked really scared."
Malcolm nodded grimly. "Yeah, we gotta find him.. He don’t seem like the survival type.."
Harold slowly got up with the support of Martha. “Well we better hurry.. Something tells me he’s not gonna find that gas station.”
"What do you mean?" Jenny asked, still clutching the empty gun.
"While it’s still up for debate how exactly we got here, I’m sure we can all agree that tigers don’t roam Chicago, Illinois.” Harold wheezed.
"We can't stay here," he continued, "That thing knows where we are now. We need to move."
"But Harold, you can barely walk," Martha protested.
"Then we help him," Malcolm replied. "We stick together, find the other guy, and we get outta here." He looked around at the group. "But we move carefully. That tiger is wounded and angry." said Harold.
A moment later, they formed a tight cluster as they followed the path the middle-aged man had taken earlier. After walking just about 3 minutes, muddy footprints and dried mud remnants appeared on the path.
When the group froze in utter horror.
The middle-aged man lay motionless on the forest floor covered in blood. Standing over him was the tiger, feeding. Where Jenny's bullet had struck its shoulder, the wound was closing. Flesh knitted together as if it had never been injured.
Malcolm stumbled backward, his foot snapping a branch.
The tiger's head snapped up, its golden eyes locking onto the group. Its eyes went from yellow to red. The creature's entire body started to expand.
It rose up on its hind legs. The orange coat darkened to deep brown, and feline features transformed into something more bear-like.
Chase and Lilly whimpered, pressing their face against their mother's side.
Now towering over them, the creature let out a roar that sent shivers down their spines.
Then as it's massive teeth were about to wrap around Malcolm, its head snapped backward as blood sprayed from its skull. Four more shots followed in rapid succession, each bullet finding its mark in the beast's torso. The massive body crashed to the ground and lay still.
"Everyone okay?" a voice called from the trees.
Three figures emerged from different positions around the clearing. They wore white cloaks and golden masks that covered their entire faces with what looked like a golden sea star.
One of them jumped out of a tree, then walked over to the dead creature and nudged it with her boot. "Oh hun, you should've stayed a cat," she said in a Southern accent.
One of them approached Malcolm's group. "Is anyone injured?"
"He’s struggling to breathe from inhaling mud water." Malcolm replied, still shaken by how close they'd come to death. He looked at the kids, who were tightly being hugged by their mother, and Jenny who looked like she just woke up from a nightmare. "Otherwise I think we're okay."
"Are there others with you?”
Malcolm looked down at the half eaten body of the middle-aged man, then recoiled quickly looking away with his face covered. "Thi-this is all of us now."
The masked man took note of the situation, then nodded. "Alright, good. We have a base set up further away. I advise you to come with us."
A firm gust of wind blew through the clearing, brushing up against everybody.
Harold stepped forward, "Where exactly are we? What is this place?"
The leader was quiet for a moment. "You're on an island. And whatever world you came from, you're not there anymore."
Martha gripped Harold's arm tighter. "What do you mean, world?"
"I mean exactly that, if you’re here, you’ve been teleported here by some magical cause."
Jenny stared at the empty gun in her hands. "That's impossible." She let out quietly.
"So was that tiger healing itself and changing into a bear," the leader replied. "But you saw it happen, didn’t you?"
The group then noticed light emitting from Malcolm’s shirt pocket. “What the- Oi lad, what’ve you got there in your pocket?”
Malcolm suddenly noticed the weight of the stone artifact in his pocket, then took it out.
As the wind blew more intensely through the trees and the sky grew darker, the stone lifted up in the air like it did in the museum, when a beam of light shot out pouring into the air, pushing the clouds aside.
The masked leader put his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “What is that!?”
“I think the thing that brought us here.” Right after, the stone fell to the ground no longer glowing.
One of the masked figures shouted something with a booming power that echoed through the air like thunder. Only for 4 hairy beast-like creatures to appear from the very mud underneath them.
“There is a storm coming, let’s take them to the base now.”
Malcolm then pocketed the stone as they all were transported by beasts that moved at a rapid speed through the jungle. The storm grew bigger behind them, always close enough to almost get them.
After a while, they made it to the base safe and sound.
The Hidden Base
The journey back to the base took nearly two hours. They rode on large, wolf-like creatures that moved with speed and agility through the jungle terrain. One of the masked figures controlled all the beasts with simple hand gestures, the animals responding immediately to each command.
The active dust storm caused many challenges. Fallen branches blocked paths repeatedly, forcing detours that made the journey longer than expected. The dusty air was making everyone cough and leaving their eyes watery. Since the group was not used to riding magical beasts at top speed, they stopped frequently to catch their breath.
Finally, they emerged into a large cave mouth filled with dozens of tents and shelters. The combination of campfires lit the place.
What surprised the group immediately was the variety of clothing. Some people wore modern clothes, others looked like they'd stepped from different eras entirely. But things became especially difficult to make sense of when near the supply area, several people with pointed ears and angular features appeared.
"About sixty people, currently," their masked guide explained. "Everyone arrived within the last few days. Different circumstances, same destination."
Chase tugged on his mother's sleeve. "Mom, those people look like elves."
"Don't stare, honey," Helen whispered.
The group was led to a section of the camp where several tents had been prepared for them. A cooking fire was already burning in the center, and someone had left a pot of soup to warm by the flames. “We'll have someone check on you periodically, feel free to ask us anything."
As the masked figures moved away, Malcolm's group found themselves safe at last.
They settled around the cooking fire, the warmth welcome after the cold journey. Jenny ladled soup into bowls, her hands still shaking slightly.
The group sat there in silence for 20 minutes.
Somewhere else on the island.
Two men with tanned skin, in bear hide,dressed for winter, looked around them in confusion. Speaking their native tongue, they were clearly confused as if they’d just made it to the island in the midst of the storm.
One of the two pointed at the sky warning the other frantically of something that was headed for them. When from within the clouds an ethereal creature manifested devouring the two men, then disappearing in nothingness again.
Back at the hideout.
Harold reached into his pocket and pulled out a soaking muddy wallet, and put it on the ground close to the fire to dry. "I took this from him. Before we left.” The group stared at it.
"Why?" Jenny asked.
"His ID. Someone needs to report him as deceased. His family, if he has any, has a right to know what happened to him."
Martha touched her husband's arm. "That was thoughtful of you."
Malcolm looked around, "What were we all doing at the museum today? I mean, what brought you all there?"
"My husband's an archaeologist," Helen explained. "David discovered some of the artifacts at the museum with his team. The kids were excited to see daddy's work on display."
Malcolm’s eyebrows raised. “Oh really?”
He continues, “I’ve always been interested in archeology. My brother is a paleontologist, and I keep collecting friends who really like old dusty things.”
Harold shifted closer to Martha. "We live near the museum. Martha said we hadn't been doing anything new lately, so we decided to go."
Martha nodded. "We used to travel more when we were younger. But our health isn’t what it was so I thought it would be nice to get out."
All eyes turned to Jenny, who was staring into her soup. "I'm writing my dissertation on Eastern cultural artifacts. How folklore and spiritual beliefs influenced craftsmanship." She paused. "I'm Chinese, but I stopped believing in the spiritual side of things when I started studying philosophy and science in college."
The group listened with attention.
"My family is very spiritual. Traditional. We've had... difficulties since I changed my worldview." She looked up. "That man who died today, I didn't like him, but some of what he said about superstition and folk tales... I quietly agreed with parts of it."
"And now?" Harold asked.
Jenny gestured around them. "It’s hard to say… This morning I rejected the idea of anything more than matter in motion… And just a couple hours later, I've witnessed magic heal wounds, a tiger transform into a bear.. I've been transported to an island- There are elves eating 20 ft away from us.” She pointed behind her.
The group chuckles softly with her.
“And- and we were saved by power rangers!” Chase followed up.
The group burst into laughter.
“I think I have a lot to think about.” Jenny said as she looked up at Malcolm.
He nodded, as a short silence hit the group.
A masked figure approached their fire, carrying a bundle. "Food supplies," the person said, setting down vegetables and bread. "Cook what ya need okay?"
"Thank you so much, bless your kind heart," Martha said.
“Oh sweet pea, don't even worry ‘bout it. You get nice and warm and fill your bellies.” The figure kindly gestured. "Malcolm, when you're finished eating, we'd like to speak with you alright?"
He nods and the group continues eating, the air being a bit more cheerful now.
When Malcolm finished his soup, he stood and walked toward where the masked figures had gathered near the camp's edge.
Meanwhile, High in the Mountains
Cailleach had been drying up by the fire for a while to take shelter from the storm. In full coziness she was lying on her belly by the cave entrance, kicking her feet completely absorbed in reading a leather-bound tome she'd found days earlier. The pages were filled with symbols and diagrams that made her tail twitch with excitement. She reached absently for her bowl of fruits, only to find it empty.
"What?" She sat up, staring at the empty bowl in disbelief. "Already?"
Annoyed, she walked over to her bag filled with loot, digging through it desperately. Nothing. Her food stores were completely depleted.
"And I just solved the decay problem uuuugh!!" she complained before kicking her loot bag. But her toe hit a bronze shield causing her squeal to echo through the entire cave system.
Trying to cool herself she took a deep breath, then exhaled.
“You’re calm… You’re all good, Cailleach…”
Slowly walking back to her little campfire, she layed down again by the book.
“Just like usual, you don’t need the outside world.”
“It’s just you, your brain… and science!”
She says intensely, clasping the air, before continuing her work.
But just seconds later, a faint rumble could be heard from just outside the cave.
Followed by an echoing “WHAAAAAA---”
Back at the hide out.
Malcolm approached the three masked figures who had gathered near the camp's edge.
"The stone," the leader said without preamble. "Show it to us."
Malcolm pulled the stone out from his pocket.
"It's signal has been getting stronger since we arrived here," Malcolm explained. "I can feel it pulling me somewhere specific."
The figures looked at each other in silence. “What do you mean?”
“It’s weird to say.. Kind of like a compass pointing somewhere?--Hold it yourself, you’ll see what I mean.”
One of the figures reached out carefully. The moment their gloved hand came near the stone, it pulsed with vibration.
"Look mate, now that you’re at our base, along with your companions who are vulnerable, this object is a possible danger we can’t risk, which is why we need to know what it's connected to."
“Since this does seem to point in a direction.. Possibly on the island, we might be able to find out how to get you and your group back.”
“The storm subsided not too long ago so this might be the perfect moment for us to investigate.”
"Can I come with you?" Malcolm asked. "I’m deeply into archeology. I might be useful in understanding what we find."
The figures exchanged glances behind their masks. The tallest one shrugged in silence. The woman with the Southern accent spoke up. "This could be dangerous. We don't know what we're walking into out there."
"With all due respect, I've already faced a shapeshifting tiger today. And this stone came from my museum tour. I think I'm pretty involved here."
The leader was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "You'll need proper gear. And you follow our lead completely. No questions, no hesitation. We can’t risk you getting injured or worse, you causing us injuries."
"I understand, I’ll make sure not to be a problem." Malcolm said eagerly.
Minutes later, Malcolm found himself wearing a white cloak and golden mask identical to the others. The mask felt strange against his face but didn't impair his vision for some reason. The cloak was lighter than he expected, made likely from some material he didn't know.
Waving to his group, Malcolm walked to the cloaked figures. “I’m ready.”
They traveled for about an hour through winding jungle paths. The beasts moved with sure footing despite the lack of eyes.
Suddenly, Malcolm's beast halted so abruptly he nearly pitched forward over its neck.
"What's wrong?" he asked, steadying himself.
The woman controlling their mount frowned behind her mask. "She won't go forward. Something's spooked her."
The other beasts had stopped as well. They suddenly made low whining sounds and refused to take another step.
When playing cards began falling from the darkness above. They spun as they drifted down through the jungle trees.
A figure stepped into the clearing ahead of them. She moved with fluid ballet steps, dancing between the falling cards with elegance. Her porcelain mask was painted with colorful stars and swirls, and ribbons flowed from her costume. She performed in complete silence, her dance both beautiful and deeply unsettling in the dark jungle. The closer she moved, the more the beasts tried to step back.
The group leader's voice called out to the masked woman. "Who are you? What do you-"
A splash of blood fell on his shoulder cutting off his words mid-sentence.
More drops began to fall. Drip, drip, drip…
The metallic smell filled the air as crimson rain soaked through their clothes and into the ground around them. The beasts began to panic.
The stone suddenly lifted from Malcolm’s pocket, trying to escape his cloak. The temperature started emitting heat. He pulled it out with a gasp as it blazed as the only light at the scene. When a drop of blood struck the artifact in his hands, Malcolm felt his heart beat slow down, then speed up as he fainted, dropping in the mud.
The dancing woman's head snapped toward the glowing stone. “What a tough crowd!!”
She moved with inhuman speed reaching for Malcolm's limp body next to the beast.
A bullet suddenly sang through the air, grazing the clown’s mask, causing her to halt.
"Not so fast, sugar," the woman said as she stepped off of her beast. “Don’t mean to steal ya show and all, but this ain’t about you.”
Back at the Mountain
Cailleach had finally given up on her research when her stomach's rumbling became too painful to ignore. She climbed down the mountain with her trusty vine ropes when a smack of blood hit her in the face.
"ACK- What the--" She looked up at the sky when a drop of blood hit her eyes, immediately she lost control of the vines hanging about 40ft up in the air. As she swung in panic, her body hit the mountain side causing her to freefall down.
Caught by several treebranches she makes a rough landing in the dirt while it continues to pour what feels like a thick sticky rain in her fur.
As she closed her eyes, she whined. “I just had my fur clean!!-- ahh my eyes! What the hell is this!!!”
She yelled in agitation when- sniff sniff sniff..
Blood was falling like rain, coating the paths in slick crimson puddles. The metallic smell was overwhelming.
"This is so gross!!!!," she cried dramatically, but her hunger was becoming unbearable. "Why can’t I have nice things uugggghhh."
With no time wasted she walked right into a tree which made her flinch and slip again.
"Ow, ow, ow," she groaned, sitting up and spitting mud and blood from her mouth. Her tail ached and her clothes were ruined.
That's when she saw it just vaguely with one eye. Something glimmering yellow light.
“W-what’s this?”
Cailleach rubbed her eyes with some cloth in her loot bag. “Waaaaaaait!”
Squinting dramatically, she noticed something poking out from the mud.
"What the hell?" Cailleach crawled over and picked it up, wiping away the grime. The moment her fingers touched the stone, she felt a distinct pull in a specific direction, like a compass needle finding north. "Well shit..." she said as she looked at the stone in surprise.
Cailleach got up and found herself at a cross road.
On the one hand she really wanted to eat something.
On the other hand… “Secrets~.”
She shrugged, and held on to the stone as she slowly followed where its rhythm led her, occasionally holding it up as if trying to get a signal.
After walking for forty minutes, fur soaked in blood, clothes drenched and stained, no food in her belly. Goggles slightly filled with blood that she poured out every 15 minutes…
She emerged into a clearing away from the jungle dominated by ruins that took her breath away. Massive stone blocks lay scattered around a central black monolith that rose twelve feet into the air. The entire structure hummed with barely contained power that made her fur stand on end.
"Y’know, I almost hated myself for stepping outside… but Cailleach this is not bad.”
She high fived herself as she approached the monolith. The stone fragment in her hand grew so warm it was almost uncomfortable to hold, causing her to throw it from hand to hand like a hot potato.
“So this is where you go huh…” She held it up to the monolith, before then pulling her hand back.
“This is usually when danger kicks in, Cailleach you know better than that young lady.”
“Yeah- no, of course. Affirmative.”
“Rocky ruins on a supernatural occult island with ancient artifacts who haven’t seen daylight in ages. Oh don’t forget about the blood raining from the sky while we’re at it.”
“A part of a tombstone glowing and drinking the blood pouring from the sky? Yeah you’re better than that Cailleach, let’s be wise.”
She turned her back to the monolith about to walk away when she swiftly turned back to it and nearly dunked the stone in the carving on the monolith. Expecting some kind of dramatic reaction as she clenched her fists in excitement.
Nothing happened.
"What? Come on!" She tried pressing the fragment against different sections of the stone pillar, like a child jamming a square in a cylinder.
When she notices the shape of the stone. “Ugh don’t tell me this thing is useless because it has a corner missing…”
“Worthless!!!”
Frustrated beyond measure, she threw the stone fragment at the ground with all her strength.
It stopped in mid-air, hovering three feet above the earth, spinning slowly as if suspended by invisible strings.
A chill ran down Cailleach's spine.
Movement caught her eye in the sky above. Something vast and ethereal shifted through the clouds, visible like heat waves rising.
Cailleach spun around and froze completely. “You know what, I’m not that curious anymo--”
Her jaw dropped when a massive dragon's head had materialized from the air itself, translucent. There was no body, just the enormous head piercing her with its eyes.
Back at the Jungle
The clown woman stood there completely still. Silently from behind her mask, she asked.
“What did you just say?...”
“It ain’t about me?...”
“Hehe… hehhehehe… ggigigigigigi!!!!”
The summoned beasts squealed and then dematerialized.
The two masked figures stood in front of Malcolm’s body to protect it.
Increasingly wary of the situation they find themselves in.
“RIDICULOUS!!”
“RIDICULOUS!!”
“RIDICULOUS!!”
She stomped around in the bloody puddles.
With a dry, raspy voice, devoid of emotion, the clown said
“So you wanna join me on the stage?”
“Break a leg.”
Without warning, the puddles all over the area splashed the blood in the air around her.
A shockwave rippled through the area, shattering the golden masks.
Revealing the two figures to be a green half orc man with tusks, yellow eyes, long teal green hair in a pony tail and two earrings dangling next to his face.
The woman had blonde hair in a neat ponytail with a bandana, swooping bangs framing her freckled, slightly tanned face.
EPISODE 4 END.