The Creation Trials

Two creatures, similar to yet not humans, live their peculiar lives on a beach in a world that came before our own. Primarily inspired by Oryx & Crake and H.P. Lovecraft. (1,215 words)

He sat cross-legged on the beach, idly poking at pebbles and seashells that the tide had swept in. Occasionally he would grasp a stone and sling it out into the restless waters, which would swallow up stone after stone after stone, no matter how many he threw. Eventually he grew nervous that the ocean might become angry, and he stopped throwing. Shuffling the odds and ends of small things around at his feet, he felt entirely content.

A few hours or days passed before another approached. He stumbled out of the thick brush overlooking the beach, wiping tiny sticks and leaves from his shoulders. Upon noticing the naked figure of the beach-dweller he squinted his small, dark eyes and hummed in curiosity. “Hm, yes, what is this? Hello, yes? What, no, who are you?”

The beach-dweller turned and smiled slowly, replying in similar broken-speech. “Yes, hello! I am sitting here. The beach is nice, so I sit here, yes.” He returned his attention to the small items in front of him and continued to rearrange them into queer little shapes.

“Hm, yes, hmm. You are on the beach, yes, that is certain. Hm. You are the one who sits on the beach, indeed, yes.”

“Who are you then?” Beach-dweller called over his shoulder.

“Hm, yes, me? Hmm that is strange. I was sitting under a tree before I came here, yes, the shade was delightful. I am one who sits under the trees, yes.” This seemed to satisfy Shade-dweller, so he happily joined Beach-dweller in the sand. Peering at his companion’s small possessions, he furrowed his brow in thought. “Hmm, yes, what are you doing Beach-dweller? What are these, hm?”

Beach-dweller smiled and pointed out to the infinite waters that lie before them. “The great ocean gave them to me. I sat here and enjoyed the warm light, yes. After a time the ocean delivered these unto me. It is a kind ocean, yes.”

Shade-dweller gazed out upon the waters. “Hm. The ocean has delivered nothing unto me, no. No, no, no. No thing, hm.”

“You must sit,” Beach-dweller assured, “and while sitting in the warm light the ocean will no doubt deliver more gifts unto us, yes.”

“Hm, yes, maybe. The forest delivered unto me nothing more than scratches and pokes from its angry plants, no. The forest is not generous, hm. I will sit here, yes.”

And so the two queer creatures sat in the afternoon sun by the ocean, speaking of nothing until the moon rose.

“I do not like it when the pale light rises, no,” Shade-dweller complained. “I want the warm light back, yes. Hmm, why does the warm light leave us?”

Beach-dweller shot the moon a brief glance, shrugging. “The warm light always returns, yes: that is what matters. If we wait the warm light will return, yes it will.”

Shade-dweller frowned and rubbed his cold arms, examining the beach around them. “The beach is an empty place without the warm light. No warm light, no beach. I will sleep, yes. I will sleep until the warm light returns, yes.” And so he slept, leaving Beach-dweller to fiddle with his objects in silence.

In the morning, Beach-dweller woke his companion with cries of joy. “Arise! The warm light is back up in the sky, and now it shines upon my creation!” Beach-dweller danced around the beach erratically, throwing his arms to the sky and shouting more exclamations. Shade-dweller rose from his slumber and gazed around the beach.

“Hm, yes, it is warm. This is pleasing, yes.” He stood up slowly and wiped sand from his body. “What are you doing now, hm? Why do you dance?”

Beach-dweller ran back to the spot where he had been sitting all the while before his dance erupted. “Look here, yes! I have created a new thing! With the gifts from the ocean, I fashioned this creation. My gift to the great ocean, yes!” He directed his companion’s attention to a small mound on the beach, formed mostly out of sand, and adorned with small sticks, pebbles, and shells that Beach-dweller had been compiling.

Shade-dweller frowned at this. “Hm, yes. A gift honoring the great ocean, hm. But what has the ocean delivered unto me, hm? No, nothing for me.”

“We must wait,” Beach-dweller repeated, “and the ocean will be kind to us.”

“I have waited!” Shade-dweller cried, his face twitching in sudden outrage. “I waited all through the time of the pale light, yes I did! The ocean cares about me not, no! Your creation is foul, yes, hm. No more gifts for the ocean, no!” He instructed sternly of his companion.

Beach-dweller simply shrugged and turned back towards his prized creation. “I am sorry the ocean has given you nothing yet, yes I am. Perhaps you must wait longer, yes. I waited through many pale lights to receive all the gifts that I have now. We shall wait, and I shall honor the ocean with another gift, yes!” He hurriedly gathered any unused items from the ground and began to heap sand into a second mound.

Shade-dweller shook with silent rage at this, his face so terribly red. He leaned down and took a fist-sized stone from the beach and struck Beach-dweller on the head with it, who fell flat on his face into the sand. Shade-dweller threw himself upon the struggling Beach-dweller and continued to beat his head with the hard, bloody object until Beach-dweller no longer moved. A thick trail of blood slowly made its way from the two creatures down into the ebbing tide. A few minutes or days passed.

Shade-dweller slowly rose from the bloody mess he had made, stone still in hand. He turned his vision out towards the ocean, which lapped at the shore just the same as it had before the calamity. He then seized Beach-dweller’s unmoving leg and dragged him out into the water. He angled the body away from the beach and pushed it off into the ocean, letting the endless tide pull it away to places unknown.

 

 

 

 

In a realm of existence outside of that of the beach and its now-lone denizen, two beings examined what had just taken place.

“Tragic,” one said.

“Indeed, that was unprecedented,” the second agreed.

“Progress was made, but that doesn’t negate the fact that they still ended up killing each other,” the first pondered, “their temperaments are still so selfish, so singular. Empathy is what they all have lacked.

“Perhaps in the next trial we should gather them together and give them something to relate to each other with. With one common goal we can transform many individuals into a single, functioning tribe.”

“This is true. Perhaps a common enemy, which could also serve as a vent for any violent urges within. A great and terrible beast could do this.”

“That does not sound like peace,” the second suggested, “but rather violence supported by a false idea of morality. The goal is to prevent violence.”

“You are correct,” the first admitted. There was a pause, yet no time was known to these beings.

“We shall try again,” the first declared.

“Yes, once more again as we have many times before.”

“Perhaps we can establish empathy within them this time.”

“Yes, perhaps. We will try again.”