Fiend of the Deep
by Brutal Dreamer

After driving down a long, narrow dirt road, Alyssa arrived at the Cattleman's Lodge. She needed a break from work and the city. This quaint, but run-down, place looked perfect. She opened the decrepit, squeaky door and went inside. An elderly man came out of the backroom of the run down lodge.

"I need a room." Alyssa said, feeling stiff from the long car ride. The mosquitoes were biting and the air was muggy. She wiped her face with her sleeve and signed the book on the faded, yellowish line. Setting the pen down, she rubbed her stomach.

The man jabbered a while about the old lodge while she fidgeted for her keys in her purse. He rubbed his stubbly checks with his cigarette-stained hands as he spoke of the ancient, local legend called the Bloody Witch Blade Monster. "In that stream over there, the monster has taken many a life in search of the pure blood of innocent babes. It takes 'em right out of their mother's stomach. I've never seen it happen myself, but we've found them poor wimmen lyin' next to the tree trunk on the bank of the river with their bellies carved open and fetus missin'. Most die. Those that don't end up in the looney bin."

Alyssa was very intrigued and looked at the old coot curiously. "You mean people still believe in such tales to this day around here?" She chuckled.

"You'd do well to remember this too, young lady." His voice was serious as he walked her to her cabin and unlocked the warped door. "The Bloody Witch Blade lies in wait for someone like you. Its cold, reptile blood needs the warmth of your little one. One vicious swipe of its nasty claws and your baby will be gone. Stay well away from that tree trunk, no matter what happens."

Upon entering the cozy cabin, she set her bags down on the tattered, patchwork quilt of the small, twin bed. She pulled the powdery blue curtains away from the window and caught a glimpse of the waters and bridge. The gurgling from midstream roared and rumbled like a hungry lion. She could not see what was in the heaving, sapphire dark waters, but something told her it was sinister.

"Are those the waters you speak of?" she asked with interest, wiping the musty dust from the window.

"Aye," he replied, chomping on a toothpick with his gums. "That'll be the unholy grounds alright. No one treads upon them. Remember that."

"Thank you."

He just nodded his head and left.

Alyssa walked over to the battered, mahogany dresser in the corner and opened up the top drawer. The dresser wobbled when she pulled the drawer open, causing moonbeams to dance rainbows on the chocolaty walls. Her tall, slender shadow reflected upon the wall and bent into the ceiling.

A banshee wail shattered the night. With a jolt, she slammed the drawer shut and dashed to the window, trying to get a glimpse of the cursed waters. There was nothing there that fit the terrifying howls echoing in her ears. She opened her cabin door and walked out onto the porch, searching for the source of the sound.

"Is anyone there?" she asked timidly. Only the wind whistling melodiously through the trees that surrounded her cabin responded.

The harrowing yowls reverberated through the swampy grounds yet, but Alyssa saw nothing to fit the description of the monster. She walked to the bridge and stopped in mid-stride. What had the old coot said about the legend of the marshy grounds and its monster? She strove to remember his warning, but all she saw was the man stroking his stubbles and his toothless mouth opening and closing silently.

She peered over the edge of the rickety bridge as the blackness of night set in. The moonlight cast shadowy silhouettes of the trees dancing upon the water. She continued beyond the bridge then halted. Looking down in the deep waters, Alyssa stood, petrified by the sight before her. It gushed from the water, deep grave of hell itself. Inhuman, beady eyes glowed like emeralds; so piercing they burned through her soul. She saw those beady eyes staring up at her hungrily. Its long, sharp, white fangs dripped with blood. She grabbed her rounded stomach and swallowed apprehensively, wondering how its fangs could drip with blood if it was underwater.

Startled, she lost her balance and tripped over a pile of rocks. As the ground raced toward her, she rolled to protect her belly and hit her head on the ground. Screams resonated around her as she lay dazed and baffled. She looked to the left and saw the fiend from the deep.

Her stomach ached and burned as if set ablaze. She reached down to reassure herself and met with something wet, warm and sticky. Slowly, Alyssa lifted her hand up into the air and gazed at her own blood. Turning, she stared directly at the creature from hell.

Its teeth oozed wine-red within the water. As she studied the water, she realized that the legend had it wrong. The monster did not reside in the waters nor was it a reptilian creature that lived deep in the swamps. People thought that because they saw its reflection there.

She rolled over and there it was. Its name Bloody Witch Blade fit it perfectly.

The screams Alyssa had heard were her own. She hadn't known it until then. She watched bewildered as the tree scraped her opened stomach and, with its long twigs, grabbed the fetus from her womb.

In the reflective surface of the water, she saw the underside of what she had thought was a tree trunk. She looked closer at the knots within the tree.

"No!" she cried, tears trickling down her ashen face. "You fucked up bastard!"

They weren't knots but cherubic faces of innocent fetuses; their uncontaminated blood fed the beast. She watched as the evil, wooded fiend devoured her own fetus down his black, hollowed hole. Alyssa dug her hands into the swampy ground, dragging herself to the fiend. Its mouth agape, she pulled herself upon the wooded monster and slid down its gullet with her baby.

Inside, the blood seethed and churned. The babies were hardened into the sides of its ribs; their blood drizzled down into the crimson ocean. Alyssa swam hard in the hot, rotten hell, trying to catch up with her child. Blood spilled into her mouth, making her retch with each disgusting swallow.

Grabbing her baby, she held him to her chest and wailed piteously. His thin skin was tattered and ripped. As her tears spilled upon his face, the child began to open his eyes and move. Alyssa jerked him away and looked at her wee one. His skin had healed and become almost translucent, as did all the other hundreds of babies attached to the insides of the fiend. Floating into the air, they grew opaque wings from their backs. They landed into a large hand, which closed over them and disappeared.

The demon's branches began to splinter and burst as Alyssa's blood mixed with the pureness of the babys', poisoning the monster. He twisted and snarled, blowing fire form his hollowed mouth. He burst into flames.

"You sonofabitch!" Alyssa screamed surrounded by the fire. "I got you!" she yelled triumphantly.

* * *

The sound of the blast rattled the lodge, waking the old man. Bones creaking, he shuffled over to the window. He shook his head in wonder as he watched the flames over the river reach higher and higher into the night sky. When it died down, he knew that the strange woman was gone and so was the Bloody Witch Blade Monster.

©2001 Brutal Dreamer

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