Saturday Special: Swamp Thing

I sat there by the side to watched the new arrivals; all dressed in white and caked up in paint to their faces. They numbered about ten that time, giggling and gaily with their manners. They all looked well fed compared to my emancipated frame; a full meal here are the leftovers and the miserable looking gruel they served us. One of them stepped up and gave me a look over.

"Ain't he too small to be here?" The one who spoke was lady dressed in the white frock and holding the dainty umbrella on her right hand. She used that poke at my crossed forearms placed over my raised knees.

"Be careful, Daisy. He could be rabid." I heard that one and they all laughed at me. I saw the signal from the handler, and did my imitation of the wolf snarling at he lady. She stepped back looking rather in shock.

"Oh my, he almost bitten me." The lady gasped in shock. It was then one of the males in the group came rushing and kicked at me. The leather buckled shoes hurt my legs as he thrashed at it like a frenzied creature. I could not fight back as that would be fatal to my life. I was spared of the beatings when the handler pulled the man away.

"Get into the line, young master." The handler pulled him away. The gaily dressed man pulled himself free from the handler.

"Get those filthy hands off me." The handler let go of his concern. "If you ever touched me again, it would be your hide for my saddle bag."

I saw the handler pulled away and stood there to be verbally lashed by the man half his age and frame. Meanwhile the one who kicked at me was lauded by his companions for a 'jolly good show'. The command soon came for us to rise and moved towards the carriage on the rails. We are the hauler of the carriage to dragged it on the rails for their evening tour de sight of the swamps on both sides. Its a novelty ride for these white clothed people to see the so called ghostly swamps.

The place was reputed to hold the souls of many lost wanderers and of late, the runners from the camps where I take my rest after the hard works at the nearby farms. I would get the extra chores on request for nights like these for the thrill of their lifetime. The swamps was a dark place even during the day, with its high canopies of leaves that shield the sunlight. As you creep down the branches to the bigger trunks, you might come across the slithering serpents or the worse, the jaguar which loved to moved in between the trunks on top. If that does not scared you, then there are the unique growth of the trees that shaped their barks with grotesque designs. My mum used to tell me that the evil spirits dwell in those trunks, and the bark was their expression. If you peeled off the bark, you would be able to see the trunk bleed out like we do when wounded. On the lower half of the trunk are the upraised roots and thicker foliage of bushes. You are warned not to place your hands there or something would grab you. It could be the serpent that slithered down the trunk or the deadly centipedes that lengthens from your fingers to the elbow. The bit of such creatures spells death by a slow painful manner followed up deadly boils on your body. Before you die, you would had wished you were with the excruciating pain that would coursed through your limbs as if you were grabbed by the devil himself.

"Picked up the rope and laid it on the shoulders." The handler gave us his command. Twelve of us did as we are told. Twelve young males who had spent ten hours at the farm toiling the earth then would be hauling a wooden carriage on metal wheels. On the wooden carriage would be twelve persons who would soon be awed by the dark sights.

"Pull at it now." The handler shouted. "Heave."

It was the initial pull that breaks your back but we knew our strength as well as the pain of the lashes from the handler. We heaved and pulled. We moved an inch and then a feet, before we rolled back half of that.

"They are weaklings!" One of the passengers shouted. "I could do better."

The lashing came; all thick and coated with broken glass but we would pulled harder. We pulled hard that time to move it two feet and then on the tracks, it moved as it was pushed by the devil at the rear. We did not hear the crickets called nor did we see the fat rats ran across our feet for our mind was on the next pull. We pulled and then breathed in. We breathed out as we pulled and then we breathed it all back in again. It was all fine once you hit the twelve pull, as then it was matters not who lashed you as your mind was gone to the tasks of pulling.

"Wo wee..." The sound of the passenger as he exclaimed his delight on the carriage lighted by the six lanterns that was hung on the side. It was more eerie to see the carriage then silhouetted by the lanterns light, as its played shadows onto the dark swamp water.

"Did you see that?" The passenger shouted out. "I saw the red eyes peeking at me from yonder." One never could tell what was beneath the water surface, but the handler had it all covered. He carried the heavy rifle in his hands, leveled for anything sinister from an alligator to a misled runner that may had chose dead by the noose to the dark creatures that dwell there.

"Fear not, young mas..." The handler did not had a chance to finished his assuring words. He was shortened by the dark creature that dragged him by the feet into the dark murky waters. I saw a glimpse of it. It was the One. I shouted out to the others.

"The One is here." We knew what the Elders told us; you squat down and keep your eyes shut. Let no one speaks or breathe in his name, or death would come.

I did not see anything.

I choose not to hear anything.

I know nothing at all.

I only knew the sounds of tearing flesh, and howling pains of the wounded ones.

I only smell the blood which may had splattered on me.

I only knew if I don't move, I may leave here alive.

I was glad I am not one of them in those white clothes.

I was glad I had lived.

Just as it began, it ended. The sounds of the creatures was heard being dragged into the waters and then all was quiet. I slowly got up without opening my eyes. I took in shallow breaths while standing there. I felt the presence near me and then the faint touch of the whiskers. Then it spoke to me.

"Pull at it now." The voice told me. 

All twelve of us got up with our eyes closed. We reached for the ropes and laid it on our shoulder.

"Pull", the voice said. We did and found our load was lighter, but we cared not as we pulled the carriage. We need not see while our feet searched the rails to guide us.

We soon reached the end. We stopped and rest by the side. I opened my eyes and saw the twelve passengers seated there; all quiet and looking like normal. They got off and walked to their horses and left us there. Soon the handler came out of the swamps, and shouted to us to go back to our beddings. I was back at my bedding when the old man who had survived here for over sixty five years. He had seen and knew all of it.

"The twelve would not know, that they had sold their souls to the swamp. They would be fine for a few days and then they would wither like the reeds in the water. The swamp collected its dues and make the trip all, the more worthwhile."

"Such are the nature of dealing with the swamps devil. You never knew what you left behind until you are dead." The old man continued on. "Sleep well, my lovely servant. You are the lucky ones that would continued to serve the master of the swamp till he had no need of you. Then he would swallow also your soul, and ............body."

I looked at my bony fingers. They looked broken yet I felt no pain. I was truly a vessel of the swamp without a soul then.