Among Man

And finally there it lay, silent behind the thick smog, among its rubble and waste. Comfortably the thing slept in this wasteland it called home. Overjoyed as I was to finally document this creature and provide tangible proof of its existence, I knew to move with caution. Decades upon decades of researchers would venture to this world only to be met with its ghostly silence and infinite contamination. With the lack of life, save for the few flora that miraculously grew, many deemed this expedition counterproductive and merely a waste of resources. Once in a great while would one of mine report a sighting, or find unidentifiable prints. Yet with no further evidence to promote regular searches, the thing continued to remain elusive. Only in outdated records and the most imaginative minds could such a monster exist. Still by fate, surely not luck, did the thing that so many believe to be extinct sleep before me.

Glistening in sweat, the creature’s shoulders rose with each dormant breath. Its sleeping eyeballs bulged against their veiny sockets. Its skin was nothing like their early descriptions. Nothing at all. The pasty creature was a cold grey, void of any color. Naked and starved, it slept among a heap of junk. Its hand clenched a pipe of some sort; a weapon, corroded in rust and sprinkled with hints of a once copper condition. The joints in its fingers and toes festered with sores of torn skin that exposed unhealthy flesh. Weak as they looked, the creature clenched the pipe tight even in its deep sleep.

Though all documented behavior of the creature was purely based on hypotheses, I chose to move with the most caution. Neither at home nor in any other region has something ever been believed to be so wicked. Many thought them to be carnivorous in nature and many more speculated that the species to be comfortable with cannibalism. Though now decrepit, the actions its hands were deemed to be capable of astonished even the brightest of us to this day. Numerous records tell how they were used to vigorously tear into their victims for sustenance while other sources claim they were fueled by their insatiable cravings to simply kill. The true strength they had once possessed during their prime was unknown, yet I have in my heart no doubt they executed the most atrocious evil.

As dusk encroached my surroundings, I knew I had to make the most of what little sun remained. Natural lighting was important as I would not risk any photography; a simple flash could mean my very demise. Careful not to make a sound, I slowly retrieved my recording apparatus from my pouch and positioned the device to focus on its frail body entirely. Its facial features were similar to that of my own: two eyes, two ears, a mouth, and a nose. It was impossible to tell the creature's exact age but it was likely an adult. The lips were withered, thirsting for health. The head was bald except for a thin lock that hung down to its temple. The creature gave no clues to its gender, as its sleeping position refused to reveal any suggestions.

I began sketching the debris that lay nearby. The alien substance had a dull gloss to it that took the form of a variety of shapes. Though the entire area was overabundant in the ancient litter, small piles were planted around the creature as it slept. The sharpest of the substance's edges could be seen protruding outward as to trap unsuspecting prey. Smoother pieces also seemed to serve some purpose by providing an awkward and crunchy bedding for the beast, held together by what I could only assume to be its waste.

With my illustration done, a newborn night began to rapidly dissolve all aid from the sun. With the moon’s light hardly penetrating the area's haze, I knew my expedition had come to a close. Despite this abrupt ending, my footage and detailed sketches were more than I could have ever anticipated. A joy filled me like never before. I would need to return in the future for further documentation, but as of now this was ample evidence. Silent as I could, I packed my tools up and readied my journey back. It was still unknown, though lore would beg to differ, if the creature was nocturnal. Perhaps it was early to bed, but I did not dare to linger and find out.

Suddenly a loud crunch startled both the creature and I. Lost in my own bliss I was oblivious to the pile of debris nearby. Under the weight of my boot, the noise had disturbed the absolute silence of my surroundings. The thing was now awake! My heart began beating rapidly in my chest as its gangly arms stretched into the night. A groan or what felt as though it may have been words muttered from the creature's parched mouth. Its legs began to untangle from sleep and rose into a bipedal stance. It was fear that grappled onto my light, not my hand, for it remained focused on its infected torso ornamented with various purple tumors. Its bottom jaw, scarcely visible before the lights limit, opened to a sparse display of blackened teeth. Once more, it emitted the same tired and lost dialect.

Senseless as I was to carry no weapon into this short journey, I began to gently step back. My distance between the creature grew only slightly before it began approaching me. Faster and greater my steps became, all the while the creature matched my pace. The crunch of litter, the stomp on the barren soil, the scatter of pebbles all echoed under our feet in the dead night. One last time the creature uttered its incomprehensible grunt. I had believed the creature to be a recluse as it had slept alone, yet I was wrong. Somewhere in the dark, nearby or far I could not tell, something had responded to its call. Another voice boomed in unison and two more followed. My own heart felt as though it sank into the very pit of my soul, desperate to escape this reality I no longer wished for.

The creature then began to raise its atrophied arm in preparation to swing its prized rusted beam. All sense, or rather dread, quaked through my body giving me the rationale to finally run. Another grunt boomed in the night as I dashed down the path I had previously taken. I have never had an interest in the topography of this area till this very moment. Markers of rocks and archaic rubble blurred in my peripheral vision, all guiding me back to my craft. Scenarios of a failed mission or a brutal death by the hands of these monsters raced in my head. My steps began to synchronize with the pace of my own heart, each functioning through the purest form of adrenaline.

Finally, my light reflected off a chrome surface; the ship in which I had traveled in. Apprehensive of seeing how close the creatures could possibly be, I refused to look back. I unhinged the door, threw myself inside, then flung it shut. Slamming my palm against the reader's face, I activated lock after lock and to ensure my safety. Thuds began hammering at the walls as the creatures protested entry. Immediately I ran towards the control board. Drops of sweat trickled from my face onto the buttons below. The engine then began to start. Finding solace in its low pitch hum, my heavy breathing moderately settled. The moment was short lived when a stout monstrosity began crawling up the sides. Its hands and feet were webbed together in mutation. Another ran rapidly around the front, as if desperate for an opening to get inside. Several then pounced the ship's roof as a single crack slowly began to emerge. The original creature then appeared and leaped onto the hood of my craft. Its blood eyes were peering directly at me. I pitied its gaze, for the creature began to weep. Maroon drops traced its hollow cheekbones and fell onto the outside of my ship. Its gaze disturbed me yet tickled my curiosity. They focused without blinking, these eyes. They told a tale of regret and begged for salvation. These forgotten eyes …these human eyes.