Monstrous Moon

The moon shimmers in the sky, its green reflection iridescent upon the waters. From here, it looks beautiful. I stare, transfixed by its beauty, forgetting the monster. This year it is my turn to go to the moon. One soul a year, to sate the beast. But no one ever returns.

As night falls, they come. It is time. The Elders grab me with strong hands, taking me for their own. I try to struggle, like every maiden before me and every maiden that will come after me. But their hands grow tighter, more of them surrounding me to pin me down and force the cuffs on my wrists. I try to resist. But it is no use. My fate is sealed. They pull me onto my feet, pushing me forward with one of their sharp wooden staffs. I want to refuse, run for it. But its much worse if you refuse. Everyone knows that.

I try to get one last look at the cottage by the lake as I am taken away. It had been home, for a while. A secret haven only my mother knew, where I had hidden in terror until I came of age.  But now the little thatched roof and ivy-covered walls abandon me, vanishing into the mist.

Our solemn march processes through the forest, into the trees that i used to play in as a child. The rain begins to fall, the droplets singing like music as they descend onto the branches and boughs; caressing the heads of ash, elm, pine oak, hawthorn, blackthorn, maple, beech and birch. The mud squelches underfoot as we keep walking into the shadows and mist. I concentrate on the forest, distracting my thoughts from my fate. The sweet scent of the rain permeates through the trees; fresh, pure, intoxicating. A fox screams nearby. A large white stag stops grazing to gaze at me, deep obsidian eyes soulful and sorrowful as if it knows. It gallops away, and I wish I could join it, get as far away from the Elders as I can. But I can’t. I have to keep walking, putting one foot in front of another.   

On the other side of the forest, the city waits. The cobbled streets jab my shoes as I stumble on, leading the way up the hill and to the Temple. The city is quiet, its people still asleep. Even the sun is asleep, not risen from her bed yet. The little houses greet us, the black curtains drawn in reverence, doors locked shut so the Elders don’t come knocking. But I know they won’t. They have already chosen. I amble through the city, taking in the sights of statues and buildings and market stalls and the tall clock tower for the last time. The clock tower chimes the hour, startling me with its loud voice, my death toll resounding.

The hill climbs higher, the incline getting steeper as we ascend. The sun slowly gets up from her bed, the darkness lit by stray strands of pink light as deep as roses. The first birds begin to join the sun, chirping and calling to one another as we pass by. The Temple looms ahead, its shadow creeping closer with every step. I shudder. I had seen it in pictures. But I had never imagined this. Tall towers stretch to the skies, glimmering in the early light as it shone upon the strange panels and buttons and runes that whirr and buzz at my arrival. high tick walls connect the towers to the large dome, impenetrable and inescapable. The intricately patterned dome in the centre stands open, its panels spread wide like the pincers of some great monster. I know that within stands the dreaded rocket, waiting patiently for me to shoot through the dome and into the stars.

The dawn rises, illuminating the Temple in a ribbon of splendour; in vermillion, crimson, scarlet, blood orange, amber. The saffron sun smiles at me, for the last time. For a moment, I let its light caress my face, filling me with a courage I didn’t know I had. Until the Elders shove me forwards, sharp nails digging into my arm. I follow them reluctantly. across the drawbridge where the river babbles under my feet and into the entrance that yawns open into the darkness. The door slides shut behind me as we enter, loud and final. There is no way out. No escape.  

They lead me through the great halls and corridors, past rooms full of computer screens and chambers packed with whirring objects. We march past doors that said “Restricted Use Only, Temperatures Below Zero” and “Highly Radioactive”. I swallow, hearing the screams that come from within. I had heard of the Burning Room and the Cooling Chambers, of course. Everyone had. Those who refused ended up in those rooms, their corpses never found. There were even rumours the Elders performed torture and experiments in other rooms in the Temple, deep in the basement, for the men who came of age. I shut my eyes, trying to remember the sound of the lake and the sweet songs of the birds in summer.

Another door locks shut behind me. A large bathroom with a golden tub and tiles patterned with dolphins and whales greets me, a multitude of maids ripping my clothes off me with a tug and a snap. I struggle, my sapphire wings flapping as they splash bubble bath everywhere. They hold me down. Nearly drowning me. Fetid waters gurgle as they bathe me, their hands assaulting me as they rub the oil and nectar into my body. “Perfect for the monster”, they say with a chuckle and a guffaw. I choke on the acrid scent as they massage it into my hair and scalp, as the thick liquid cascades down my face and into my mouth. It stings as it gets into my eyes. But the maids only laugh. They swallow me in a towel, before thrusting the robes over my head.

The door opens, the High Priests waiting. Their purple robes seem to shimmer in the morning light, tabards daubed with indecipherable symbols and runes that ripple like water. They smile at me, that malevolent glint shining in those bulbous eyes. It is time.  

I gasp, marvelling at the room the Elders lead me into. A wide antechamber greets me, more beautiful than the last, decorated in shimmering marble. Angular crooked runes decorate the walls, whispering words I don’t understand, with red ochre paintings of gods with heads of dogs and legs of crocodiles. I can’t look. My eyes dart round the room, trying to concentrate on something else.

Seven standing stones stand around a large dais, covered with more swirling patterns and runes. Darkness falls, the artificial lights snuffed out with wisps of smoke that trail like the breaths of dragons. Tall candles light the way instead, flames crackling with laughter at me.

In the centre a rectangular altar stands, covered in crimson cloth with tassels that ripple in the silence. The Elders and High Priests enter the room, carrying a bundle that wriggles and squirms. They take their places by the standing stones, their colourful ropes dazzlingly bright against the white stones. One pushes me forward into the centre, the rope on my wrists scalding my skin as I move. I shiver, wishing the ceremonial robes were warmer. The thin fabric rustles in the breeze, the hem snagging my feet as I fumble forward. I swallow, wondering how many have worn these robes, the satin surplice uncomfortable against my bare skin, rubbing against my nipples.

Their hoods fall down, revealing bald heads and swirling tattoos. The bundle is unwrapped, sacrificial daggers brought forward. They chant, sinister sounding syllables sizzling from their tongues, words crackling on the air. I wish I could stop them. But I cannot save the child on the altar. I cannot even save myself. All I can do is follow a destiny demanded by forgotten gods 

The knives plunge into the flesh. Blood spurts, melting into the crimson cloth. The boy’s heart still convulses and extracts as the High Priest extracts it from the ribcage for good luck, his last breath hissing on the air to please the gods of the wind for safe passage. I watch as the Elders remove his organs with the blades, preserving them in jars that stand waiting. My heart breaks as they slice off his wings and hack off his long serpentine tail. Vomit threatens to spurt from my lips. I gag and swallow, trying to keep it down.

With the chant said and spells cast, it is time. A small door opens to the side of the chamber, its wooden frame beckoning. I don’t want to go. But I don’t have a choice. For the knives glint in the darkness like diamonds. 

With shaking legs, I fumble forward through the door. I wince, blinking hard and fast at the sunlight that blinds me. Tears prick at my eyes. But I will not let them fall. I swallow, blinking to stave them off as I make my way across the stones and towards the rocket that awaits me ahead.  The blue flames in the thrusters are already lit. The ship hums as it hovers on the podium, ready to take flight. Its tall steel body points into the sky, severing the clouds above. I shudder. It’s a monster.

Silver steps ascend up into the rocket. I dont want to go.  I glance around, seeing the sun glint off the crossbows that dot the crenellations of the temple, Elders on the walls. Just in case I try to run for it. One girl did that once. A maiden of age, from the desert sands of Ghisjorak. She made a break for it, not wanting to die. She nearly made it, saffron wings flapping to freedom as she tried to fledge over the walls. I think you can still the spatters of her blood, over there, where the Elders caught her. I am sure she still haunts this place, in the cold air that makes me shudder.

You can never win against the Elders. Everyone knows that. So, I climb the stairs, putting them behind me, the wind rustling the feathers of my wings. Another small door opens at the top of the stairs, as round as the moon. Another Elder straps me to a seat, more flaxen ropes cutting into my skin. He walks away, a series of mechanical beeps and voices following him like a shadow. I hear his voice in the cabin as he presses buttons and answers commands, ready to take off.

The dark seeps across the space, swallowing me whole as the lights die. Tears fall down my face. This is it. It is time. The rocket shudders to life, with a bang and a boom as it detaches from the podium and shoots into the sky.

My heart hammers in my chest, louder than a thunderstorm. I try to breathe as we climb into the stars, trying to concentrate on something else. But all my mind conjures is thoughts of death and blood, of teeth and fangs. A thousand images of monsters fill my mind, each distorted and scaled shape making me want to scream in terror. I don’t want to die. I want to go home. But the gods have decided, long ago. And I must walk the path they have chosen. To refuse would be even worse. I have heard of those who did that, their souls trapped between life and death, never able to reach the afterlife. I think of my mother, safe in the Halls of the Dead far away. I remember her blue eyes, as deep as the sea and her voice as soft as caramel as she sung to me on her knee. I remember the stories she used to tell, thinking of those days until they consume me, washing away monsters and death from my mind.

A jolt brings me back to the present. The rocket is still. i have come to the moon, come to die. The Elder unties the ropes. His bulbous green eyes fill with pity, one hand stroking my tears away.  I frown, I didn’t think the Elders felt anything, cold and cruel.

“Do not run, little one. The beast will only kill you faster.” He says, in a deep sonorous voice that echoes like the death toll. The door opens, revealing the world outside.  

“Go now, with the grace of the gods.” He says as I stumble forward, hesitant. “May the stars keep you safe until we meet again.” He mutters. I wonder if he means that. I wonder how many others he has said that to.

The door slides shut behind me. I watch as the rocket starts up again, leaving me behind. The hot air hits me, its heat scorching my skin. The soft sandals the Elders gave me sink into the emerald sand. For a moment, I gaze around, mesmerized. It is beautiful.

Vivid emerald sand stretches out as far as the eye can see, glistening in the darkness like a sea of jewels. High dunes roll across the moon nearby, like the hills back on earth. Tall cones of sand rear their heads to the sky, like stalactites in a cave. Mountains stab the skies, disfigured by the fierce wind, creating eerie figures where time had gnawed at their summits. Deep jade craters blossom to the east, darker ravines and inclines leading into caves as green as malachite, where the monster lurks in the depths.

With a heavy heart, I make my way to the caves. I wince, the sand sizzling against my sandals and frying my feathers. The sand gives way to rocky ground, hard and uncomfortable under my feet as I enter the gaping maw of the caves, wondering if it truly is the underworld. A small path snakes and slithers its way into the unknown, beckoning my feet forward. I follow it into the darkness as it winds its way like a labyrinth.

My wings brush against stone, feathers tickling rock. The path leads me further forward, into the bottle green caves as dark as night. If I had some string, I could mark my steps and make my way out of here like a hero. But even then, I would never make it off the moon. I dig my hands into the deep pockets, just in case. But there is nothing. There is no way out. No escape. No string to lead me home, no breadcrumbs to scatter on the path to lead me home. And so I must go forward, following the path the gods have set before me.

More caverns branch out, a hundred paths streaming left and right. Each way leads unto death. The trickling sound of water echoes from nearby. On impulse, I follow in its wake, bumping my head on the arched ceiling. A wide lake glimmers in the dark, its deep coral waters mesmerizing. I wander towards it, transfixed. I edge along the bank of the lake, trying to find a way around it and out the other side. On the opposite shore several eggs, as blue as my wings sit on a large nest of some sort. I gasp in horror.

There was more of them?

A hissing sound echoes.

Something slithers in the dark.

I freeze.

It’s here.

I press myself against the rock, trying to hide. Perhaps it won’t see me. Thick reptilian legs prowl forward, scales and skin rippling as it moves. A vast torso bulges with each step, a soft underside of paler white skin gleaming in the darkness. A long snake-like neck arches as a muzzle sniffs the air, searching for me. I swallow as the glazed eyes stare at me. The horns on its head twitch, finding me at last. 

I reach out, stroking its head, the rough scales grating my skin. It purrs, a strange noise emanating from its throat. Just for a moment. My heart hammers in my chest, louder than before. A cracking sound echoes from nearby. My eyes dart around the cavern to see what the noise was. Egg shell breaks away, revealing the hatchlings that were hidden within. They gurgle and chirp, stumbling out of the egg on miniature legs.

The monster croons to them. And then it looks to me. A long-forked tongue flicks on the air, sharp teeth glinting. It comes closer. I scream as the teeth tear into my skin, tearing flesh from bone. I fall to the ground, my blood seeping out of the wound as the hatchling guzzle upon the liquid as if it is nectar. I gasp and wheeze, struggling for breath as it gnaws upon my torso, breaking ribs and slashing my lungs. I whimper, the creature choking me.

My last breath hisses on the air.

It is over.