There is no simpler way to put it.
Today saw more death than I would have liked, and our numbers have been cut down to twenty-one.
We came upon a small, open area ringed with trees and the sweet smell of the ocean. Seabirds called from the sky, and the sun shined upon us. All was right and perfect in the world for a few moments, and then it changed.
The creature sprang at us from the ground, camouflaged and nearly indistinguishable from the soft grasses. Even now, as I write this, I am unsure as to how large it might have been, or what it might have been.
All I know is that it was ravenous.
Huge hands reached out and snatched up whomever it could grasp, stuffing it into its maw. I glimpsed teeth and tongues and things for which I have no name but which will surely feed my nightmares for years to come.
No sooner had it closed its mouth than it opened it and spat out the bones of the victim.
There was no salvation for any once that mouth was shut.
We shot at it, stabbed it. We attempted to set the damned creature on fire, but nothing worked. Even as we fell back and sought a way to escape, it continued feasting upon us.
In the end, we did not defeat it. Nor did we even escape from it. Instead, it ate its fill and lost interest in us.
Without a sound, it turned its back and vanished into the earth, leaving us to pile high the bones of our dead as a warning to any who might pass this way after us.
As we left this field of death, I heard my mother’s voice on the wind and heard how our suffering pleased her.
One death is not enough for her.
Not nearly enough.
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