BONES IN THE RED SAND

BONES IN THE RED SAND

A Story by zogzog

My name is Christopher Alvarez the IV. The date is the eighth month on the thirtieth day of the year 1545. This is the third expedition of our group to have been granted leave to travel to the New World by the King and Queen of Spain and the majesty of the Pope. The two previous expeditions that have gone before us and to this date are still unaccounted for and remain at large. For this reason in particular is of most importance to my men and me in this most recent expedition. Our mission, like the two previous expeditions also is to go north into the yet unexplored regions of New Spain for the purpose of exploration, treasures for the kingdom, and for our most sacred Christ to convert the heathen peoples of the new world. Also, as mentioned, this mission is to lead a search party for the two groups that have gone before us into the wilderness of this unexplored territory.

 

This documented account is nothing more now then a recollection of my experience. The journey to the New World has been a very hard and dangerous adventure for my men and me. We have experienced numerous attacks from the savage peoples who have come down from the high mesas north in pursuit of unprovoked attacks against us, which have left our numbers down to twenty-nine soldiers with the addition of seven priests from the royal Church of Rome. It is now to our sad expectation that these men must have been slaughtered by the attacks of the peoples upon the high mesas.

 

Before I continue with this log, I must first write to you of a very unusual and strange small lake we had encountered before the nightfall of my last entry. Viewing the body of water from a distance is almost like viewing a mirage. However, the lake stands like a precious blue diamond reflecting the sky amidst the red sands of this extremely harsh land. It is now but a sad and haunted place with only an abandon and once more an unsuccessful journey that I leave you with. And now, I, yes, even I, could not have experienced such a horrific dreadful occurrence without my own vision of what might indulge upon me such a mad and envisioned insanity of such an ordeal. This incident has left me now desolate and without the rest of my staff.

 

At near sunset, two of my men had noticed the lake approximately one half mile from the hill of which we decided to settle for the evening until dawn to further this exploration. Viewing the lake, we could see that it was crystal clear and quite small from the location of which we viewed. In dire need of fresh water for our crew and horses we had decided it might be a wise decision for us to ride to this strange small body of water and make camp there for the night and perhaps even for the next two days to search this area on foot anything that might tell us what may have happened to the men that have gone before us.

 

As we proceeded to ride downhill, my most favored companion and friend Roberto Marcos Centeno, a priest of Our Sacred Lady and Church of Seville, who has also been sent with us to establish a church in this most despicable land, suddenly demanded my attention to a massive bone yard sticking out from the red sand dunes that saturated the area nearby from where we first viewed this mirrored nightmare.

 

Our most unusual and puzzling question to this graveyard of sun-drenched death is that the bones seemed not only to be human, but of also many other forms of animals, such as bison, venison, and antelope. We had also taken notice there were even several skeletons of what must have been puma, bobcat, wolf, and even mountain lions. The answer to our question is that something within the water was destroying anything that came near the lake, which had then left us to our final conclusion that the water must be for some reason unknown to us, poisoned and contaminated.

 

The sun has now set behind the western hills now and my men have set the camp. There is only enough water for three days at the very least if we use it sparingly until another suitable water source is found. To the west we can travel to the Blue Mountains where I’m most aware fresh springs and brooks will run freely and pure. Food is not of importance to us now, being that the land is abundant with much wild meat, and I myself along with my soldiers are perfect marks men. Some of the men have begun cooking a meal of hare rolled in flour fried in fat and sprinkled with ground pepper.

 

As I mentioned, since I had decided not to drink from the lake, I gave warning to the men and the assisting priests also to not drink from the water either, just for the reason that it is deadly and most assuredly poisoned. Our curious situation however still has left us ignorant not to question any further the lake, or the massive number of skeletal remains in the red sand. My failure in this was to tell them not to even go near the lake at all. I am now so grief stricken of my negligence here that I am now devastated and haunted with the guilt of not being a better captain and guide to my most beloved comrades that, like them, I wish no longer to exist.

 

Elias Alexander Hernandez had been one of the seven remaining priests left alive from the several brutal attacks that had killed much of my men from in what we have now found out are called the “pueblo peoples.” Still in loyal assistance and allegiance to Marcos upon this journey he began to rest and sit beside the lake to give alms to the protector of the saints and to pray for the forgiveness of his sins for his excommunication from the church for marrying while still in the priesthood. Calmly thinking and praying beside the water with a rosary given to him by his precious and very beautiful wife Alma, he began to rest in the quiet meditation of his now very tired and weary spirit. Alma had given him this sacred relic of black stones and silver just prior to his leave from Spain.

 

Without warning from the pool sprang what seemed like countless numbers of pale white tentacles producing a dreadful stench and terrifying smell. Father Elias began screaming for the people not to come any closer for these tentacles began springing and swinging like tree branches brought to life. Two tentacles wrapped themselves around this priest who was now fervently praying to our sacred Christ and Virgin Mary for his life. The deathly white pale and foul smelling limbs of this beastly creature began slowly turning to pink, and then to a blood red as flesh and skin began peeling from the priest like old clothing in need of washing. Several soldiers ran to assist the man, but by then nothing remained but a liquefied human remain still screaming and wreathing over a skeletal mass now turning black as it rolled in extreme pain in the red sand with only Alma’s rosary clutching in his trembling fist.

 

The remaining soldiers and priests had then begun fighting and shooting with swords, hatchets, and crossbows, but the demonic creature began fighting even more viciously and the arrows from the weapons bounced off the beast like twigs against a giant granite stone slab. It then began luring each one into a tight grip, and even pulling some of what were then my fiercest of warriors into the lake of which they remained in submergence, and they did not return back to the surface.

 

Marcos and I began running up a nearby hill to escape this demon of hellish waters, knowing that our men, as honorable and fierce of fighters as they were was damned to a fate neither of us could prevent any longer. Their cries began diminishing slowly one by one as we could see the splattering of bodily fluids and detached limbs drench the dark night. Looking down into the lake and from the reflections of the bonfires that had been set for sight and meal, the water from the lake was still as reflective as a polished mirror. We could see ourselves overlooking the water, and what seemed to be directly behind us was a castle fortress of white polished stone but when we had turned around to see the castle, to our bewilderment, no castle stood.

 

Getting down upon his knee’s to pray, my now, dear departed friend and comrade, Father Roberto Marcos Centeno of Our Sacred Lady and Church of Seville began giving homage to the untimely and massive death of this experience to my soldiers and his priest of the Royal Church of Rome. Then, to his un-recollected surprise, this creature that we thought we were out of harms reach from had grabbed him by his arm and plummeted him down the side of the cliff to his death. There, I had seen his mangled body slowly disappear as this creature of white mass with a smell of pure evil covered him like a blanket of white and pale flesh with only the visibility of the beasts eyes which, like the water itself, was as reflective as a polished mirror.

 

It is now daybreak and the creature has slithered back into the small lake without hesitation of subduing me any longer. I have now been left alone without the company of my men and priests. I have walked up and over the hill and to my enchantment I have found the ruined remains of what once seemed to be an ancient castle fortress made of a soft and precious alabaster stone. It is somewhat similar like the beautiful castle fortress I had seen in the water of the lake just before dawn, but now in complete devastation

 

© 2012 zogzog


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Added on December 15, 2012
Last Updated on December 15, 2012