Malo

A group of teens go out on a search for a mysterious creature

Rain falls from the sky, streaming down the windows of our little Toyota leaving smaller water droplets in their wake. I lift my hood up over my head in protest of the the moisture; the rain mixed with the heat of the car had caused the window to condensate. I look to my left and see Katie, her eyes shut, little nose scrunching as she sleeps.

I can spot the little village styled house up ahead, just along the gravel road. It’s been years since I’ve seen Sam; the last time we were together we nearly got arrested (Sam’s quick thinking got us out of that little predicament), but it was the most fun we’d had since we were kids. And this summer, I’m ready to do it all again.

Dad lugs the Toyota up the hill�"a triumphant victory on its behalf�"and pulls up to the front door. After turning off the car, he quietly exits, making sure not to slam the door for fear of waking Katie. He helps me unload my bags, placing them before us on the ground, white rock and milky water adhering themselves to my luggage.

The rain is pouring now, making my visual acuity far below normal, but I’m able to make out the tall figure that stands six feet high on the porch. Sam saunters off the steps a little too excitedly, and rushes over to assist us.

“Long time no see, Zy,” he says, grasping me way too tight. He picks up my bags and walks them into the house, wiping them off on the porch rug beforehand. I turn around and face my father who is fumbling with the buttons on his archaic little flip phone. He lifts his head up towards me upon the realization of my presence.

“Alright Zylen,” he mutters in a tone slightly more audible than a whisper, “be on your best behavior while we’re away. I don’t want to hear of any craziness like what happened last time. Got it?” I nod, obviously aware that he was not-so-subtly referring to our little law enforcement mishap.

“Dad, come on, you know me better than that. I’m not gonna do anything dumb.” I smile, trying to appear believable, but his only response is a faint “good luck,” a wave of the hand, and he and Katie speeding off back down the road.

Sam had returned in time to hear that entire conversation; I guess that’s why dad had been so quiet. “I don’t know what he’s so concerned about. We’re the two most mature human beings this town has ever seen.” He places a heavy hand on my shoulder and smirks, proud of his sarcastic remark. He leads me to the porch in an effort to get out of this deluge, but before we enter the quaint home, I notice something moving out the corner of my eye. Completely halted, I turn to face whatever it is I’d seen.

The figure, modest in size, has a very delicate, almost fragile frame, as if the slightest corruption upon her would result in permanent and sufficient damage. Her face rests gentle, soft and pastel. She’s moving a potted plant away from the porch railing, cupping it’s ceramic base ever so carefully. She looks up from her daisies and meets my gaze, her alluring hazel eyes locked dead on mine. In a panic, she breaks our connection and hurries inside, leaving me alone in some blissful stupor, until Sam slaps me on the back of my neck.

“Yeah, that’s Kayla,” he says in a rather placid tone. “She’s sweet. Weird as hell, but she’s nice.” He notices me, my eyes still lingering at the house beside his. “Ah, I get it now.” A wide grin stretches across his face. “Just warning you now, dude. She’s weird.” I shrug off his warning and enter the foyer, hanging my drenched hoodie on the coat rack. Mrs. Jansen, Sam’s mom, comes sashaying out of the kitchen towards me, arms sprawled.

“Oh Zylen, it’s been so long!” She throws her arms around me, hugging me the way a lonely great aunt would. “How’ve you been? And your mom?”

“Oh, she’s great, really. You should give her a call,” I respond.

“That’s a good idea. How’s Katie? She was still in diapers last time I saw her. Even then she looked just like your mother.”

“Yeah, she’s changed a lot since then.” We go on like this for several minutes, fueling the mindless conversation that I feel entirely obligated to stay in. Mrs. Jansen has always been like a second mother to me, but that doesn’t make her any less loquacious.   

“Okay, mom,” Sam finally steps in. “Zy is probably tired so I think we’re just gonna go to bed now.” He pulls my wrist and leads me up the stairs.

“But you haven’t had dinner yet,” Mrs. Jansen protests, almost inquisitively.  

Sam looks at me, than back at his mom. “I think we’re okay.”

Mrs. Jansen rolls her eyes and then returns to the kitchen, while Sam and I head to his room. He moved my bags while I had been consumed in discussion, and they’re set up against his wall,  a small bit of water still running down their plastic sides. His bunk bed has been replaced by a more plush, age appropriate queen size. “You can take the bed first night and I’ll take the air mattress. Then we can just alternate each night,” he says.

I nod my head in agreeance to his plan, yawning upon the realization that I really am quite exhausted. I pull back the sheets and climb in, letting my body succumb to the comfort. “So,” I utter kind of nervously, twiddling my thumbs as I speak, “what’s up with that Kayla girl?”

He sighs. “Wow. You’ve been here for a single hour and you’re already peepin’ out girls.”

I laugh. “Not necessarily. I just think she’s cute, that’s all.”

“Whatever you say, Zy. I’m not here to pass judgement. What do you want to know about her, anyway?”

“I don’t know. You said she’s weird, earlier. Why?”

He props himself up on his pillow, looking at me as he speaks. “She goes into the woods a lot, just up past the house. She’s always carrying food and specialized equipment. I heard she’s looking for the Malo.”

“What’s the Malo?” I ask, both curious and concerned.

“No one told you about the Malo?” I shake my head, no. “Well, it’s really stupid, honestly. It’s just an old tale, a sort of urban legend. They say that deep in the woods of Astoria, lays a creature more fearsome than anything you’ve ever seen before. It’s humanlike in its mannerisms, but it’s a beast beyond anything you’d imagine in every other aspect. It supposedly hides away all winter in some cave, but as soon as the weather gets warm, it’s said to come out of hiding and roam the woods at night.”

“Do you believe it?” I ask. The way he spoke about the creature, he made it seem too real to not be true.

“Of course not. But your crush, Kayla, seems to believe it just fine.” He smiles. “But it’s late and I’m exhausted. Goodnight, Zylen. Don’t let the Malo get you.” He smirks one final time before turning out the light. I shake my head at his poor comment, and shut my eyes, drifting away into a deep and sudden sleep.

There’s a rustling outside, as if someone is rummaging through a bunch of paper. I peer out the window. The moon is still out, shining brighter than ever; glistening stars litter the deep, blue sky, daring me to go out amongst them. I look away from the window and find Sam still sleep, laying still on his back. I hear the rustling again, but this time when I look out the window, I see something different. It's Kayla.

She's packing a backpack rather quickly, glancing over her shoulder every now and then. Her hands are moving vigorously, shaking as they do so. I'm fascinated; her whole aura in this moment screams danger, but my curiosity gets the best of me. Quietly, I leave the room and tiptoe down the stairs into the foyer. I put on my hoodie�"which Mrs. Jansen has dried�"and exit the house, entering the bitter cold of Astoria.

Kayla is done packing now. She stands up and begins to walk towards the woods. I consider introducing myself, but I quickly opt out of the idea, seeing that it's two o'clock in the morning and I'm basically stalking her. So, I trail close behind her into the dark and mystic woods.

Water drips down from the canopy above, sending a cool wave throughout my body. As cold as I am, I'm amazed that I haven't approached her for some heat source; surely she has some blanket or heat pack, something.

She's walking steadily, but carefully, trying to minimize her sound in the vast space, and I can understand why; nearly every sound of nature is amplified here in the woods. The owl's howl and the crickets chirp, their sounds echoing off the trees as if their sole purpose of existence is to make a mockery of your mind.

Kayla halts abruptly, clinging to a tree as if she's watching for something, waiting. I do the same, essentially because I'm not sure what's going on. As I come to a stop, something rams into the back of me. I panic but don't scream; I don't want to risk Kayla finding me. I turn around, terrified, and face the unexpected. But the “unexpected” is really just a tired, wide eyed Sam.

“Sam, what are you doing here?” I whisper angrily. He must've followed me from the house.

“I heard you get up. I didn't want you out here by yourself. The better question is what are you doing out here.”

“I heard a noise. That's all.” This is partially true. I did hear a noise, but I also saw Kayla which was a far more enticing reason to leave the house.

“You're lying,” he says.

“Who cares, you followed me, too.”

“Too? What do you mean too?”

What started off as a quiet conversation has now escalated to a not-so-quiet argument and as a result, I've been spotted. Kayla has appeared from behind me and into my line of vision, wearing an expression of frustration and fascination all the same. But she’s far more beautiful now than I had seen earlier; even in the dark of the night, she has a sort of glow about her, as if she alone was the luminescence I had seen out my window.

“Um, hi,” I stutter. “I’m, um Zylen. I’m friends with, um, with�"”

“Sam,” he finishes for me.

“Right, yeah. Sam.” First impressions are everything, and I’ve completely ruined mine.

She extends her hand towards me, a glint reflecting off of her perfectly polished nails. “Well as weird as this is, it’s nice to meet you, Zylen. And it works out perfectly that you guys are both here; I need as much help as I can get.” She turns around and begins to walk deeper into the woods.

“Help with what?” I ask, trotting closely behind.

“Catching the Malo, of course,” she responds.

Sam leans into me, keeping up with the pace. “See,” he whispers, “I told you she was weird.”

I shrug at this again, even though the evidence is hard to deny: this girl left her house in the middle of the night with a backpack full of random nonessentials to trek into the woods in search of a mystical creature that no one’s even sure exists. She’s crazy, no doubt, and that’s why I’m so determined to help her. She’s so passionate, so encompassed in her belief of this thing, whatever it is, and she’ll stop at nothing to get it.

We’re mounting a hill now, soggy leaves and new grass smashed beneath our steps. Kayla is searching the ground, looking for God Know’s What, while Sam and I just try not to run into anything. I’m beginning to regret this decision when Kayla stops in her tracks, spreading her arms out as if for balance.

“Why did we�"”

“Shhh,” she interrupts me. “Do you hear that?”

Sam and I wait, trying to hear what she’s talking about. Sam begins to say something, but as soon as he does, a low wail consumes the area. The birds of the night fly high above the canopy, startled by the grumbling. The woods rest silent for a moment, but once more, the deep, sorrowful moan engulfs the entire area.

“We’re close,” she insists. I believe her, but whatever it was we just heard (the Malo, I’m going to assume), does not sound thrilled to be sharing this space with us. I’m no longer up for the challenge and seriously considering turning back, but as soon as she turns to me for confirmation, I know I can’t leave her alone. So, against my better judgement, I follow her into whatever fate is calling me.

“This is it,” she exclaims. “This is the Malo’s cave.”

We’ve stopped again, but this time in front of a hole. There’s nothing spectacular about it; it’s merely a large, slanted mud hole in the ground. Kayla pulls out an emergency flare stick, radiating red light everywhere, and climbs into the hole until she disappears.

“Where’d she go?” asks Sam.

I can feel my hands sweating, my heartbeat accelerating. “I, I don’t know. What do we do? Should we go after her?”

“I don’t know, Zy, but this is insane. I think I’m out.”

I agree with him. This is insane, and I would completely back out right now, but there’s one thing holding me back: the look of relief on her face when she saw us standing behind her. I know what I have to do.

I hop into the hole, using my arms to propel me downwards. It’s not deep, only about six feet from the entrance in the ground. The flicker of the flare is dwindling, so I run to catch up, still quiet. There’s no telling what lays within this cave. The ceilings are lower than expected, no more than ten feet from the ground. Stalactites drip fresh water onto the ground, creating pools in the mud floor. Kayla is standing beside me now, trembling, probably a result of cold and fear. She fastens her jacket up and puts her hood on, still shaking. She switches the flare from her right hand to her left, and in the same movement she grabs mine in hers.

I look at her, the expression on my face obviously screaming confusion and exhilaration alike. “I just don’t want us to get separated,” she lies. “You know, in case something happens.” Her words say one thing but the look she gives me insinuates something entirely different, but nonetheless, I remain silent. The same grumbling we’d heard earlier in the night is back, shaking the entirety of the cave. Kayla’s grip on my hand tightens, but we continue on.

We reach a clearing in the middle of the cave with one tunnel leading out the opposite side. There are no stalactites here, no puddles of seeping rainwater. In fact, the ground is completely stone, completely dry.

“Hey, what’s up with the hand holding,” says a voice from behind us.

Kayla let’s out a very noticeable gasp, and I turn around, an automatic result of my inquiring personality. I’m relieved to find that once more, it’s Sam.

“Jesus, man, you gotta stop doing that.” I’m angered but I can’t stop smiling; I really thought he had left us.

“You’ll get over it,” he insists, “but what’s up with you guys?”

“Nothing,” Kayla and I say in unison, yet neither of us let go of each other’s hand. Sam just rolls his eyes and examines the space before us. It’s so clean, almost like it’s some room or something. While we’re inspecting our surroundings, another sound begins to fill the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. The thunderous sound of footsteps. We look all about us for a place to hide, but there is nothing here; this room is a trap. Whoever created it designed it to be this way: empty; they had designed it to give whoever enters only two choices: stay and die, or turn and run. If it were some animal, some highly intelligent creature, it would only want to eat it’s prey, it would trap it, not allow it to escape. The setup is almost as if whoever created it doesn’t want to hurt those who enter; they simply want them to leave.

Kayla and Sam have already begun to run out the way we came from, but I tell them to stay, and they do. The three of us band together, awaiting whatever is about to come before us. “Sam,” I say, “whenever this thing comes out, I need you to distract it. Got it? I’ll help. Kayla, I need you to get whatever it is you have in that bag and take this thing down. It’s only the three of us but I think we have a pretty good shot. Okay?”

They nod in agreeance, no less nervous than I. A shadow has appeared from the tunnel opening, it’s shadow twice my size. The silhouette enters the room, revealing itself from the shadows. We’re frozen stiff. The creature before us, undoubtedly the Malo, stands twelve feet tall, thick fur covering it’s superior, muscular body. Claws like daggers extend from its paw-like hands, with one inch thick teeth to match. And it’s eyes, perhaps the most gruesome part of the creature, are a blood red, surely a reflection of the prey it’d just killed. Terrified in a way I had never been before, an adrenaline rushes over me that I never knew I had. I steal the flare from Kayla, toss it to Sam, and run around the room, driving the Malo mad.

Kayla searches around in her backpack in the center of the room, while Sam and I continue to taunt the Malo with the flare. I see Kayla out of the corner of my eye, sporting a carving knife. It’s sharp enough to kill a human, but I’m not sure if the blade will take down this beast, but I trust her. She nods at me as if she’s ready.

“Sam, catch!”

I throw the flare over to Sam, making sure that the creature’s back will be facing Kayla. The Malo follows the light and let’s out a bloodcurdling roar, completely different from the low moan we had heard previously. Sam has caught the flare and the Malo is charging over to him.

“Kayla, now! Go!” I scream.

She runs up to the Malo and jumps on it’s back, but it doesn’t flinch. She draws back the knife and stabs the monstrous animal hybrid in it’s neck. Nothing. She twists the knife and pushes it further in. Blue and green sparks fly all about the room, spouting out from the wound on it’s neck. It let’s out one final roar before it falls to the ground. One thud, and the Malo is dead.

Breathless, the three of us approach the body, little electrical sparks still flying about. Kayla, being the daring person that she is puts a hand on it’s fur. She tugs on it a little too hard, and it peels back, revealing nothing but metal. Her hand cups her mouth as she gasps.

“It’s a fake,” she realizes.

“That could only mean one thing then,” I say. “It was a decoy. Someone put it here on purpose. There’s something in that tunnel, and we’re going to get it.”

We rise from the floor and walk into the tunnel across the room. Kayla is not happy about our victory; the one thing she’s been after for years, the one thing she wanted to be real more than anything else, turned out to be nothing more than a robot covered in craft fur.

At the end of the tunnel is a room, similar to the one the Malo had approached us in. Except this one was bigger, and it was filled entirely with gold.

“Woah,” Sam says in shock.

“This is what it was protecting. Someone was hiding all of this gold, all of it, and they used the story of the Malo to cover it up.” I say, proud to prove my theory correct.

Kayla laughs. “Well,” she smiles, “this is a good way to start the summer.”