Our adventure started off as most adventures do. We had all the necessary supplies. We had the most up to date maps available. We had the most experienced crew in the world. We had the fastest, most ingeniously built ship that ever dared to sail the seas. But what good is all this when your journey is cursed from day one?
Let me start from the beginning. About a year ago, a book came out called The Life and Times of Sir James Eastsport. It was an autobiography about a great sea captain/explorer. In this book, it told of far away lands, places that no mortal would ever dream of, barbaric people, creatures never before seen, of bizarre rituals. These types of stories never have interested me, but my best friend, A.J., devours them. So when news of the book reached us, he rushed to get it.
A.J. finished it in two days. Shortly after, the fever got a hold of him. Nonstop, everyday, 21/7/365, well you get the picture! All he would do was talk about becoming an explorer, sailing the seas, blah blah blah. I told A.J. he was crazy, that this was just a phase he’d soon forget, and that he’d find something else to do. But, alas, this was not true.
A.J. got a job, saved every bit of money he could, and three months later, we were ready to set sail.
Now you may be wondering why I chose to go. Leaning against the rail, watching my home slide away, I was wondering that myself. I guess it started when A.J. told me of his plan. We were at a local tavern. A.J. slid a piece of paper over to me.
“Read it,” he said.
I glanced over it. It was some dribble about exploration.
“So?” he asked.
“So…” I replied.
“What do you think?”
“About…”
“About the article! About the newly discovered world!”
“It’s fascinating…”
“I’m going there.”
“Oh, that’s ni…WHAT!? ARE YOU CRAZY!?!?”
“Maybe, and oh, you’re coming with me.”
“LIKE HELL I AM!!!!!! YOU’RE NUTS!!!!! THIS IS CRAZY!!!!”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go.”
“Oh, let me think, NO EXPIERENCE!!”
“I’ve already hired the best expedition team. Give me another.”
“Money.”
“I got enough to take us on three expeditions if we so choose. Give me another.”
Flabbergasted I said, “I give up. Now you tell me why I should go.”
A.J. looked at me from across the table and said, “Because you are my best friend. You mean the world to me. If the situation was reversed, if you wanted to go instead of me, I would gladly go to hell and back with you.”
Knowing that I had lost, I reluctantly agreed. We left the tavern to go home. Out of the shadows of the alley, an old beggar woman emerged. She was wrinkled, filthy, and smelly. Her hair (what was left of it) was greasy. She had sores that oozed yellow pus. A few had maggots in them.
“Read your fortunes for a dollar?” she croaked.
Repulsed, I replied, “No thank you. We were, er, we were just on our way home.”
She looked at me. She pulled me so close to her face that I could see her rotted teeth. Her breath smelled like death warmed over. Her hands were like claws, rough with dirty long fingernails.
“I think I’ll read yours for free.”
Before I could do anything, she grabbed my hand and studied it. In a grotesque sort of way, it reminded me of a schoolgirl studying for an exam.
“Just as I suspected. You have the mark. Beware, young one, for your death is close at hand. Do not go on this ill fated journey you have planned.”
“And, let me guess, if we don’t go, we’ll meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger. C’mon.” said A.J. laughing.
“Do not jest at what your puny mind can not possible fathom. Heed my warning, Aaron James, for your doom is close at hand.”
“How did you…”
But the old beggar woman was gone. She just vanished without a trace.
After that night, everything went swimmingly. Nothing went wrong. The supplies were quickly bought and stored. The crew was quickly hired. The maps were quickly gathered.
The day we left was a cool, calm, sunny day. There was not a cloud in the sky. A.J. introduced me to our captain, a Captain Stokely. He was a jolly fellow, a present day Santa Claus. He informed me that it would probably take about four months to reach our destination.
A few weeks later, all was still going fine. I hated to admit this, but I was actually having a good time. Dolphins and whales played around our ship. It was always sunny and breezy. We were making record time. Everything was going according to plan. Then all hell broke loose.
It was dark and stormy. The ship swayed to and fro. Water splashed aboard, taken some men with it. You could barely hear their cries over the crashes of lightening and thunder. Men were running around, some panicking, some trying to help. I just tried to keep my guts in.
There was a terrible flash followed by a primeval roar and the mast was gone in a shower of splintered wood and fire.A.J. came running up with Captain Stokely.
“We’ve got to grab some supplies and get on a lifeboat!”
We quickly grabbed some food and water, and a couple of guns with ammo, plus our personal backpacks. Rushing to the lifeboats, we realized that we were probably not going to survive. I cursed A.J. for dragging me into this mess, and I cursed the old beggar lady for predicting it. The three of us jumped into the lifeboat. A.J. and Captain Stokely started to lower us down. We were almost on the surface of the ocean when the ship lurched to a stop. A lightening flash revealed that the ship had struck a coral reef. Another brilliant flash showed me the fate of one of our fellow lifeboats: crushed underneath the ship. Arms and legs were dangling out. Some of the hands were moving, waving goodbye as their owners’ soul departed. I saw the upper half of a man, arms dangling, eyes rolled to where only the whites showed, mouth open, blood draining out. I quietly leaned over the side, vomited, and passed out.
The next morning, I awoke to A.J. and the Captain standing over me.
“You’re alive!” A.J. said happily.
“Wish I weren’t. Fills like I had one hell of a party last night.” I meekly replied.
I slowly got up to observe that we were on a beach. Our little lifeboat was wrecked. There was no sign of the wrecked ship or any other survivors.
Turning to face the Captain, I asked, “Are we the only ones?”
“Aye.”
“What of our supplies?”
“One of the guns made it. We lost all but one of the backpacks. No maps survived. Got just a little bit of water and food: enough for two days, three if we only eat once a day.”
“What’s in the backpack?”
“A compass, some rope, and a vial of anti-poison.”
We all three turned and faced the jungle looming before us.
“Well A.J. You got your wish. Now you finally get to explore uncharted territory.”
“Shut up and come on.”
Traveling through the jungle was hard. The foliage was impossible to move through. It was hot. It was humid. Mosquitoes were constantly buzzing around your ears. Every now and then, you would have the luck of running into a spider’s web. At what we assumed was noon, we halted and had lunch. A short while later, both A.J., and the Captain felt Mother Nature calling them. They barely took two steps off our path when they both screamed. The jungle came alive with the sound of hissing. I realized what had happened. I searched the backpack for the anti-poison. A.J. came back dragging himself and the Captain with him.
“Are you okay?” I asked urgently.
“I am. Captain Stokely though…” he trailed off.“Quick, give him this vial.”
I watched with anxious eyes as A.J. carefully poured the liquid into the Captain’s mouth.
“Will he live?”
“Don’t know. Just got to watch and see.”
A little over an hour later, we discovered something not too pleasant. The jungle was quiet. Eerily quiet. A.J. reached for the gun. Off to our right the bushes moved. A.J. cocked and pointed the gun. Out of nowhere a tiger appeared, growling. At the same time, a monkey popped out of the bushes. A.J. shot the monkey. The tiger leaped at A.J. I pushed A.J. out of the way. He fired another shot, missing, and shooting another monkey. Now the monkeys were in on the fun, hurling things and dung at us. We heard a muffled moan. The tiger had ripped out the throat of the Captain! All went quiet again. Both A.J. and I stared into the tiger’s eyes. His blood stained mouth was in a snarl. Bits of flesh and blood dripped from his fangs. A.J. took aim. The tiger leaped. The gun jammed. The tiger bit into A.J.’s left leg. A.J. screamed. Blood squirted everywhere. I screamed. A spear appeared out of nowhere, piercing the tiger’s throat. The ground was covered in blood, both A.J.’s and the tiger’s. Both A.J. and I quit screaming. We turned and looked at our new guests. There were about ten of them, completely bare butt naked. All were male, and all were covered in tattoos of intricate designs.
“Ollay.”, the leader spoke.
I looked at him, and then at A.J., who was slowly bleeding to death.
“My friend needs help.” I tried to explain.
This seemed to work for the leader motioned to the group to get A.J. They stopped his bleeding, gave him something that smelled and looked like chicken crap, put him on a stretcher, and headed into the jungle. The leader gestured for me to follow.
When we reached the city, both A.J. and I were dumbstruck. Here was a thriving metropolis built completely out of gold, silver, diamonds, and emeralds. Even more astounding was the fact that A.J. was completely healed!
We were led to the second biggest building in the city. As we were being led, we noticed that nobody, not even women, wore clothes, and that all, even the babies, were tattooed from head to foot.
We entered through the double diamond doors into a large chamber. There, on a throne made of gold and silver, sat their leader: a young woman of about twenty. She was slender, tan, skin like silk. Her long shimmering black hair nearly touched the floor. She too was completely nude and covered from head to foot with tattoos. One of these traveled up her leg from her ankle to her knee. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be the stem of a rose, which, at the knee, became the whitest flower I have ever seen. When she rose, though, this flower bloomed into a grinning skull. She smiled, her lips blood red, her teeth pearly white. She raises her left hand. Two servant girls came bearing cups and a pitcher filled with green liquid. We heard rustling behind, turned, and realized that we were alone. The empress bade us to drink. We did, mesmerized.
She spoke, “Who are you and why are you here?”
Spitting out a mouthful of green juice, we stared.
“It is the effect of the drink. Now everybody will understand you, as you will them. I am Empress Qapmoc. Again I ask, who are you, and why are you here?”
“I’m A.J., and this here is…” but before A.J. could finish, a man walked in. He looked us up and down and asked, “Zimbalaoogala?”
Empress Qapmoc glared and shoved him away.
“What is ‘Zimbalaoogala’? I dared to ask.
“Never mind. Why not look around and enjoy the sites. Be back here by nightfall.”
We did as we were told. People would give us strange looks. Some smiled, and every now and then, we would hear the whisper of someone saying “Zimbalaoogala.”By nightfall, we had returned. There was a banquet table full of food. Empress Qapmoc told us to sit.
A.J., noting the lack of it, asked, “Do you guys not eat meat?”
“Well, no, not exactly.”
I thought I caught a glimpse of something in her eyes, but it was quickly gone.Curious, I asked, “ So how did one so young become Empress?”
“I’m older that you think.”
With that reply, uneasiness settled into my heart.
Not much was said after that. The same two servant girls cleared the table, and showed us to our rooms.
And so it has gone on like this for the past three weeks. Every day, it’s the same thing: sleep, eat, walk around the city, eat, sleep. And still, that word Zimbalaoogala is whispered from time to time.
I asked Empress Qapmoc about one time.
“You’ll learn in time”, was all she replied.
I had a strange dream last night. The old beggar woman was in it. She was whispering something I couldn’t hear. Behind her stood Empress Qapmoc. Slowly before my eyes, she turned into a vile demon. I awoke screaming. A.J. asked what was wrong. I told him. I also told him about my uneasiness about this place. He told me I was being paranoid and to go back to sleep. As I drifted toward slumber, I looked out the window at the 3⁄4 full moon.
Today there appears that there is going to be a festival of sorts. We were told that in was a celebration in our honor. A sense of dread washed over me and hasn’t left me since.
It is night now. A full moon raises blood red from the horizon.
A.J. and I are in our rooms, completely naked at the request of Empress Qapmoc. The two servant girls come in telling us to follow them. Drums are beating. We hear a chant, but cannot tell what is being said. We are led to the biggest building in the center of town. The drums pick up the pace, the chanting increases. A sudden hush descends. I fill something strike me on the head. Then all is black.
I awake, strapped down to a table. A.J. is the same way. Above us, we can see the moon high in the sky, still blood red.
The drumming and chanting has started again. But this time we know what they are saying: Zimbalaoogala. Empress Qapmoc enters, smiling evilly.
“You wanted to know and now you will get your wish!”
With that, she turns into a demon straight out of hell, and plunges her claws into A.J.’s abdomen. Ripping out his intestines, she slurps them up like spaghetti. A.J. is screaming. Next, she takes out his liver, devouring that whole. She takes out his spleen, greedily slurping up the blood. A.J. is still alive, screaming. The last thing A.J. ever sees is his own heart being ripped out and devoured, still beating. As A.J.’s screams die out, she turns to me.
“You see, it’s nothing personal. But I do so like to live, and you two are going to let me do this for another two centuries.”
With that, all becomes clear. And as she slowly starts to disembowel me, I feel a strange peace come over me, and the last thing I hear is ‘Zimbalaoogala’.
The End
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