Category: facade the novel

This version is the early and unedited version

Angry droplets from the sky beat their crusted-leaf roofs. The blackest night of the dark, violent wind swindles trees, breaking the roots from the deep soil. The people have questions, but might have known the answer. Has the curse begun?

On a small hut with a lifted wooden floor, a family nurtures faith on the corner. The father arched his arm towards his lover while they embraced their child who cowards on the striking flash and roaring thunder. He patted his children, providing assurance for the safety he is not assured of.

One flash, second thunder, lightning thunder, the creaking window which the wind is trying to pull, the spoilage of the storm streaming to the woods from underneath the door, and the light of the night casting through the empty spaces between the wooden walls; this is a regular storm, nothing more.

A thumping sound hits their roof, and it is followed by a falling. The man tries to sneak his eyes to look for the estrangement, but swiftly retracts on the other sound that is hitting the roof. It does not stop, the  bush of the leaves screaming to tell something has struggled to fit inside. The children hid behind their embrace, father stood, walking in measurement towards the roof, a metallic shriek expelled by the struggling creature.

The creature escaped and open his mouth, planted the sharp teeth into his skin. The creature presses his clench harder and let the knife bloom inside, ripping his flesh below the skin, and sucks his blood. A fast burn  spreads to all his body before he screams in agony. The man grip its head and choke its neck. but it know nothing but destined to torture, the man strip the creator out of his finger, throw it on the floor and stamp it to death. A small piece of skin from his index finger shredded, animated in the mouth of the creature before halting. His blood and embraced it on its death.

“What’s that?” asks his wife after unblinding their children

“For now I have no wisdom to understand, it eat flesh, drinks blood. It does not know mercy for it to live for only a killing”

“My dear, this night has been against its inhabitants; the soil, the water, the sky and the living are no favor to our bosom”

“It is a raging call from its creator, what was warned ignored, given the consequences, we belittling before teaching us for understanding”

Another sound of the creature hitting the roof, trying to befit itself inside. For it is escaping the rain or sensing the living soul, they do not know.

“Out, now!” cry the father to his family while a bat in his hand. The children ran upon the wet brown woods, and opened the door. The rain shots the ground mercilessly, the windstorm can not even break their strength.

The knife-teeth creature loosened and grace down roof pane before swung its wing, countering the force of the falling and cannon its frame towards the man. Its teeth clenched, white bone among the dark furs. The man swung the bat and strikes the creature, halting its target to total, breaking its skull and twisted its neck before punched onto the wall. The creature fell on his broken wings, its eyes twitched of semi-consciousness. The man gave no chance of observing and stump the creature’s stomach, screech metalling yelp gurgles with splashes of slimy rust of blood adjoined by the contents of its guts.

Then a wail of a woman thunders, the man skipped to the door by two big jumps. A woman and her children are chased by the same bat creature. 

“Help us” crys the woman, she plead to the man and look back,  should the creatures by fighting a firm small stick to let her children of tiny feet run faster than her. The man told his family on their mothers ankle, while she watches around for incoming attack. The man came to the woman and fan a large almost-flat upon the bats, after few strikes, the bat either fell or escaping away. 

“Thank you, Taz. There are so many of them, of the people of village refuge at the houses, but shall not be long. These devils hunts to the smallest home in the deepest woods. It is, where our ignores retaliates, we have chosen devil the accursed, now the Gods have proven their words, for every sorry would not be accepted”.

“My dear, I understand of this signs have been told to us. Their  wealth is no more the worth,  survival is. They have taken their games and shouldt win their thropy, for us are not adjoining. Accursed of this island and its people, we have to go out and make separations.”

“There are other friends did not partake this, they must have seeking refugee as well. We have to look for them before make such choice”

“No, time given is little, the forests rumbles and be scalloped by the sky. We shall go before we are taken of suffering for the forbidden sins we did not commit”.

“My husband, Margareth, we can not go before her presence”

“My dear, we have children, our love and burden. We have to go together with her out of this island”.

Taz and Bisan family gather before hurries to the shore. The wind went silent, the rain recedes and the thunder unheard, as if a pause settled on the horror. Then in a single blip, a monstrous electric knife parched the earth, a fire burns the night, remain unextinguished by the pours of rain. 

The children screams in terror and running towards their parent. This, they spare no time and haste to the boat of which Taz benefit in searching for fish and other livings in the sea.

On the turbulent water whirls, Taz raise the boat and setting it free. Taz sat on the front, commanding the motion of the vehicle. Behind him are his children, boy and girl. On the next row is the woman, her children are at his back, caretaken by Taz’s wife. Taz govern the direction and counter the furious gurgling waves. His wife is on the back, motioning the tails, thrust force with her delicate hand for aligning the ship with the commando. While the woman zig-zag on the body, balances the boat from overached curves. The children are not adhere to rest. Their leaf hands must ladle the rainpour that filling the gap of their toes. 

There are no chasing bat, the danger now lies beneath. 

A hand can kill the bat, but sailor can so far hand a bet, none but generousity of luck is what saving them. A horrific light swimming on the clouds, rumbles and rumbles. None of them speak a sentence, the thought of the danger keeps the hand eyes works in tremble while they plea, all them. They plea for God to save them, to give mercy upon their life. A smell of sprouting blood shed on the air, then in an instant a lighting strikes down, sheer the sorrowful night, morphing the seas, cloud, and mountains in white with violent gradation, folding the will of sight to senses and audio. The strike’s tounge kisses the handle of the boat, the smell of brown fall leaves  turns so swift to burning woods. Taz sees his front, a quick flash gave slow revelation of colors. From white, to dark with tiny red orbs, the view loss of its obscurity. The boat, has been striked and ignited, the shock of burns push Taz himself into the ocean. He embraced by the water, the light shone his skin as mirrors before taken aback by the sky, while the thunder cowards itself to rumbles. The darkness always defeated by light and anger always defeated by calamity.

He got up and sucks the air into his lung, the world expanded and the senses heightened, then he remembers, his family and his burden. He shouted their names, their callings.

The strikes drag the passanger to the ocean, they struggling to balance amidst the folding current below and folding wave that is shielding their mouth and nostril to take air. “Mother…” crys the child that is holding on his mother shoulder from the back, tilting his head to the back and open his mouth widely before the wave passing by. His mother is thrusting his little sister to the sky. She watches her mother and brother head appear and disappear engulfed by the black violent water. She crys and calling for her father, her mother eyes trying to look up but she stood the gaze to the front, she is resilient and cold, her feet fight the ocean’s current, not letting her trembling hand falling. 

A boy that questions life for the reason he is made.