Greqoh
05-19-2006, 07:20 PM
Risen
by L. Greqoh, http://qlipothica.tripod.com
The waves came suddenly.
The first wave was the smallest. It jolted the vessel a little. It got everyone's attention. Behind it came the second. It struck the side of the ship, rocking it so fiercely that screaming men rolled across the deck like toys.
The third one nearly capsized us.
As the fourth wave came, every man watched his own death approaching. It looked like a small mountain rushing forward at our little ship. Terrible was its roar. The Almighty's name was invoked by every man who saw it coming.
The sound was deafening when it hit. Then, horrible silence as the cold waters swallowed me.
For a second, I knew my life was over. But I have been threw many hardships in my life, and I have been tempered by them. I was not going to give in to panic or despair.
I fought against the cruel waters. I remained as calm as possible.
I clawed my way to the surface, bobbing like a piece of driftwood. I snatched breath, fighting to the surface for precious seconds before being knocked down again. All around men where vanishing. I clung to an empty wooden crate from the ship that I saw floating nearby. I held on with all of my might and defied fate. I sank and rose several times until the waves began to die down.
When it was over, the ship had vanished. An empty lifeboat, scattered debris and two other men were all that were left of the Savannah.
The three of us made our way to the lifeboat.
We were without previsions, fated to die a slow and horrible death. The chances of any one finding us were impossibly small.
Before I go any further, I must explain.
I have told my story many times to the papers. Many of you will remember in the past I had always claimed to have been the only one to have survived the sinking of the Savannah.
As I am now getting very far along in years, the truth has weighed heavily on me for a very long time. I must now do that which I swore I would never do. I will set down in this account the true and factual events as they happened.
I must warn you, however. If you were to tell the same story to me, I should think you mad. No doubt, I would take pity on your deranged mind. For the things that I shall tell you, simply put, cannot be!
There is no place for such nightmares in our world.
Yes, I would say the same myself where I in your place.
But the time has come. I shall commit to paper what I know is true. I shall not carry the horrors I have seen alone with me to my grave.
*
Two days passed without food or drink. The sun tormented us with it brilliance; it beat down on us with its merciless rays. We laid nearly lifeless in the small boat, ravaged by the relentless winds.
We three mortals, abandoned by God, floated helplessly between the endless azure above, and the fathomless depths below. And when the radiant sun sank below the horizon, a moonless night swallowed us, plunging us into a hellish abyss.
Had it not been for the storm that came upon us, we would have died soon. The winds, strong and cool, began rocking our little boat. Then far away flashes of lightning followed by cannon like thunder.
Rain moistened our flesh and quenched our thirsts.
It also began filling the boat.
The three of us were ready to lay down and die when in the distance a large black mass began coming closer to the boat.
"Look! There!" Mark's cracking voice yelled over the storm.
"Land! Oh, thank you God!" William answered.
But I was silent. I had sailed this route many times and I knew that no such island existed. It was not on any of the current maps I had consulted in the past, and it was far too big to have been ignored.
Yet there it was.
It stretched far and wide ahead of us. The winds had born us to it. While the other two men celebrated and gave raspy prayers of thanks, my intuition told me to surrender myself to the ocean.
As we drifted closer to the shore of this strange land mass, strange forms were revealed by the scintillate heavens. Lightning revealed here, and then there, what appeared to be about three dozen men. Under the flashes, we saw them.
Without much effort, the boat headed directly for the shore. While my companions and I clambered out of the tiny boat, they did not move, No help was offered to us. They stood in the darkness watching, waiting silently as we drug the boat a safe distance from the water. The three of us then fell to the sandy beach in exhaustion, but thankful for dry land under our backs.
The two men, who in the past I have never mentioned, where Roger Stanford and William McAllen.
Roger was a well aged sailor with graying red hair and a solid muscular build from his years of hard labor at sea. Even in mid forties he was still a tall imposing figure that scared me a little. His eyes were always squinted as if he were measuring up everyone he looked at, like a predator. When he spoke at all it was very quick and to the point.
William, in contrast, was a younger man newly added to the crew. He adjusted with great difficulty to life at sea, and many of us didn't think he was cut out for it. He had curly blond hair, a baby face and wide eyes that gave him a fallible expression of uncertainty like a child.
I must admit, I was amazed that while many fine men had perished in the wreck, he had somehow managed to survive.
"Hello!" Roger called out. His voice was hoarse and weak. He waved at the men but they did not move."We need some help!"
We stared at the unmoving men. They were frozen in place like statues. Roger repeated his request again but with no avail.
"I don't like this at all," William meekly told me, "I don't think they want us here."
"Will you shut up and let me handle this?" Roger insisted impatiently. Roger had little patience for William.
We watched Roger rise to his feet and approach some of the men. His hands were raised in the air in a show of non hostility. "We need food. Do you understand?" he asked. They were indifferent to his request.
William sank bank annoyingly close to me as we watched Roger walk within feet off one of the men. Lightning illuminated the two of them as Roger put his hand on the man. The man did not move. Roger began to laugh wildly.
"What's wrong? What is it?" I asked him.
He did not answer. He only walked to another of the men and felt him the same way.
"Statues, all of them! We're not going to get help from them!" he explained.
"Statues?" I asked, yelling above the downpour.
"Every one? Who would have made all of them?" William asked.
Roger and I ignored his question. We focused instead on getting shelter from the raging storm which seemed to be picking up strength.
by L. Greqoh, http://qlipothica.tripod.com
The waves came suddenly.
The first wave was the smallest. It jolted the vessel a little. It got everyone's attention. Behind it came the second. It struck the side of the ship, rocking it so fiercely that screaming men rolled across the deck like toys.
The third one nearly capsized us.
As the fourth wave came, every man watched his own death approaching. It looked like a small mountain rushing forward at our little ship. Terrible was its roar. The Almighty's name was invoked by every man who saw it coming.
The sound was deafening when it hit. Then, horrible silence as the cold waters swallowed me.
For a second, I knew my life was over. But I have been threw many hardships in my life, and I have been tempered by them. I was not going to give in to panic or despair.
I fought against the cruel waters. I remained as calm as possible.
I clawed my way to the surface, bobbing like a piece of driftwood. I snatched breath, fighting to the surface for precious seconds before being knocked down again. All around men where vanishing. I clung to an empty wooden crate from the ship that I saw floating nearby. I held on with all of my might and defied fate. I sank and rose several times until the waves began to die down.
When it was over, the ship had vanished. An empty lifeboat, scattered debris and two other men were all that were left of the Savannah.
The three of us made our way to the lifeboat.
We were without previsions, fated to die a slow and horrible death. The chances of any one finding us were impossibly small.
Before I go any further, I must explain.
I have told my story many times to the papers. Many of you will remember in the past I had always claimed to have been the only one to have survived the sinking of the Savannah.
As I am now getting very far along in years, the truth has weighed heavily on me for a very long time. I must now do that which I swore I would never do. I will set down in this account the true and factual events as they happened.
I must warn you, however. If you were to tell the same story to me, I should think you mad. No doubt, I would take pity on your deranged mind. For the things that I shall tell you, simply put, cannot be!
There is no place for such nightmares in our world.
Yes, I would say the same myself where I in your place.
But the time has come. I shall commit to paper what I know is true. I shall not carry the horrors I have seen alone with me to my grave.
*
Two days passed without food or drink. The sun tormented us with it brilliance; it beat down on us with its merciless rays. We laid nearly lifeless in the small boat, ravaged by the relentless winds.
We three mortals, abandoned by God, floated helplessly between the endless azure above, and the fathomless depths below. And when the radiant sun sank below the horizon, a moonless night swallowed us, plunging us into a hellish abyss.
Had it not been for the storm that came upon us, we would have died soon. The winds, strong and cool, began rocking our little boat. Then far away flashes of lightning followed by cannon like thunder.
Rain moistened our flesh and quenched our thirsts.
It also began filling the boat.
The three of us were ready to lay down and die when in the distance a large black mass began coming closer to the boat.
"Look! There!" Mark's cracking voice yelled over the storm.
"Land! Oh, thank you God!" William answered.
But I was silent. I had sailed this route many times and I knew that no such island existed. It was not on any of the current maps I had consulted in the past, and it was far too big to have been ignored.
Yet there it was.
It stretched far and wide ahead of us. The winds had born us to it. While the other two men celebrated and gave raspy prayers of thanks, my intuition told me to surrender myself to the ocean.
As we drifted closer to the shore of this strange land mass, strange forms were revealed by the scintillate heavens. Lightning revealed here, and then there, what appeared to be about three dozen men. Under the flashes, we saw them.
Without much effort, the boat headed directly for the shore. While my companions and I clambered out of the tiny boat, they did not move, No help was offered to us. They stood in the darkness watching, waiting silently as we drug the boat a safe distance from the water. The three of us then fell to the sandy beach in exhaustion, but thankful for dry land under our backs.
The two men, who in the past I have never mentioned, where Roger Stanford and William McAllen.
Roger was a well aged sailor with graying red hair and a solid muscular build from his years of hard labor at sea. Even in mid forties he was still a tall imposing figure that scared me a little. His eyes were always squinted as if he were measuring up everyone he looked at, like a predator. When he spoke at all it was very quick and to the point.
William, in contrast, was a younger man newly added to the crew. He adjusted with great difficulty to life at sea, and many of us didn't think he was cut out for it. He had curly blond hair, a baby face and wide eyes that gave him a fallible expression of uncertainty like a child.
I must admit, I was amazed that while many fine men had perished in the wreck, he had somehow managed to survive.
"Hello!" Roger called out. His voice was hoarse and weak. He waved at the men but they did not move."We need some help!"
We stared at the unmoving men. They were frozen in place like statues. Roger repeated his request again but with no avail.
"I don't like this at all," William meekly told me, "I don't think they want us here."
"Will you shut up and let me handle this?" Roger insisted impatiently. Roger had little patience for William.
We watched Roger rise to his feet and approach some of the men. His hands were raised in the air in a show of non hostility. "We need food. Do you understand?" he asked. They were indifferent to his request.
William sank bank annoyingly close to me as we watched Roger walk within feet off one of the men. Lightning illuminated the two of them as Roger put his hand on the man. The man did not move. Roger began to laugh wildly.
"What's wrong? What is it?" I asked him.
He did not answer. He only walked to another of the men and felt him the same way.
"Statues, all of them! We're not going to get help from them!" he explained.
"Statues?" I asked, yelling above the downpour.
"Every one? Who would have made all of them?" William asked.
Roger and I ignored his question. We focused instead on getting shelter from the raging storm which seemed to be picking up strength.