The Tunnels of Woe
Book 1: A Bounty Like No Other
Chapter 4 Part 1: Never Trust a Sea Hag
Tirro loaded another bolt as fast as his suddenly cold, and beyond numb fingers could work. Doubtless this was a trap set for those using magics in the worlds and the inbetween. A well crafted one at that. If not for his Uncle Tirro felt he would’ve been taken without a struggle. At least now they would bloody their captors, and deny them their living sacrifice.
Sirens were known to be witches of the deep. Doubtless they had intended to consume their strength and minds without strife hence their farce of paradise. Escape would be difficult with their last fuel reserves made low to the point that only one passage was possible. They could not use their deep generators to flee.
Even then they must first contend with whatever spell had tethered their craft to this world, or surely they would find themselves back at this very craggy reef of death with not a drop of fuel in their tanks. More than one horror story of tattered crews who had escaped similar snares with nothing but their lives and shredded craft made this point clear.
Still, Tirro felt the Veni man’s stubborn perseverance. He and his Uncle would give these sea witches a fight to remember, and perhaps even flee to die at the hands of another horror, or from thirst in a forlorn world they found themselves stranded on. Regardless the witches would pay like the man who reaches his hand into his trap only to find a badger instead of a hare.
“By the blessed savior’s Blood Jesus Christ stay back witches of the deep!” Uncle Curroz shouted in a deep voice. The scarlet eyed Sirens paused from their vantages on rocks and under their skiff. Laughter sweet and menacing much like their shapely faces filtered over the rocks, but still the sea folk opted to circle their craft instead of overwhelming them in mass.
The leering twitching skeletons, some with seaweed churned white bone while others with rotting flesh hanging from their horrific visage, wailed banshee howls into the night. A sound that froze your soul and shook your sanity yet they as well stayed on their shattered craft and rocks. Tirro had no illusions of safety. They were in their world. This craft may have been under the protection of the almighty, but they were in hostile territory.
The witches knew this as well. Still, the first to test that protection would surely perish, and so they circled and jeered in their flowing tongues. Their ruse was doubtlessly aimed at gaining permission to board the vessel, yet they still had other methods for contenting with the faithful. They had bought themselves time for now, but horrors did this cursed lagoon hide? Tirro saw their immediate answer when up from the depths came a new nightmare.
A skull of horrific shape rose from the waves just beyond the ring of stones and dead held crumbled ships. The moss and seaweed covered mass of bone was that of a man, but with one eye. So massive was the shape that it was more island than trophy. A cyclops so monstrous, its corpse must be a mountain on the face of the world.
Within this gargantuan cavity was a dark tower that stretched straight through the top of the skull and rose with a putrid purple and black light at its top like a lighthouse of the damned. Surrounding this horrid black stoned fortress was a kind of grotto formed by the skull with water held in the deeper section of bone filled with unclean beasts full of teeth and slimy scales, and unnatural sized mollusks with hundreds of eyes around their shells.
Cages by the hundreds were filled with a myriad of dead, undead, and tortured living souls of a variety of races which were stacked around the edge of the black rocks the tower stood on. Most were of the aquatic variety, not half human half fish monsters such as the witches, but proper merpeople. Children of God fashioned for the waves rather than the land which these Sirens were abomination hybrids of with various sea creatures. All these terrors were enough for the average man to lose his sanity, but Tirro spied the true visage of fear grasped along the top of the tower.
As he watched with slowly growing apprehension Tirro saw the shape of a massive squid untangle its oversized body and tentacles from the protruding tower of black stone. Horror upon horror continued as the torso of an equally large and gorgeous yet terror inducing woman revealed itself to be attached to the mass of tentacles and oversized slimy flesh. The woman half was fifteen feet tall alone, and Tirro didn’t even dare imagen how large the twisted squid half must have been. This was no normal sea hag. What madness had they fallen into?
Uncle Curroz swallowed, and walked slowly up to Tirro. His sword was fully drawn now. Small and insignificant looked their weapons against such a foe, and yet the strange twisted queen of the sea did not strike. Instead she smiled showing her many sharp teeth. Her voice was smooth and sweet, but just beyond her enticing tongue was an oily unclean sensation that made one shiver.
“What have we here my pretties? Loyal and pure, or mostly pure, sons of the Heavens in my lagoon. What a lovely treat,” The sea hag purred to the increased laughter of the sirens and undead writhing around their skiff. Her speaking their language meant all the more spiritual evil was in this place. If such a thing was not obvious by her visage. Yet it has always been the mark of both the denizens of hell, and the warriors of Heaven to know the speech of mortals regardless of its function.
“And what shall we do with you protected ones? You cannot leave this place. This is my lagoon and grotto. No one leaves here unless by my leave,” Or your death Tirro imagined. Not that he could see a way to content with this monstrosity. Surely she had magic to spare as well let alone what even one of her tentacles could do to their tiny skiff.
“I can offer you freedom. I could even send you on your way back to your cursed god tree and all the love and presence of your master, but a price must be paid,” the sea hag wagged what looked to be a dainty long finger in front of her fabulously long black hair and beautifully shaped features. However that digit was at least as long as a lance and thick to match. Her proportions may be perfect, but they were massive and grotesque as a result.
Uncle Curroz stared back at Tirro, and he could see the resolve of his Uncle falter. Such beings were known to parley. However the deckhand perceived this was a trap. As if inspiration from the Father in the Heavens the nature of that snare came to mind.
Parlaying with such evil, and offering up a sacrifice for freedom would be a sin. Sin would break their connection to their Father’s love for a time and leave them vulnerable to the hag. She may let them live to encourage others to parley in the future, or she may just enslave them, turning them into thralls or undead. Regardless, the answer from the God of Heavens’ armies came to Tirro, and he decided he would make the decision for his Captain. His Uncle would forgive, and perhaps even thank him one day.
“Decrepit hag!” Shouted Tirro in the same voice he used in the tunnels, and with that same spirit of vengeance rising in his soul continued with authority,” Be silent, we will take no deal or worship of yours! Go back to the deep where ye belong and await your judgment like all beasts and mongrels such as you and your stinking ilk of children will face. You and yours will burn, and we who you despise will judge you and watch you be cast into the fires in the name of the blessed savior Jesus Christ whom you fear and in the name of the Father in heaven the God of Heavens’ armies!” The desired effect was achieved much to the terror of Uncle Curroz, but Tirro preferred to see the true forms of his enemy.
Unbridled rage filled the sea hags features. The sight was all that much unbecoming thanks to the massive size of the face in question. Not to mention how her skin turned ashen white like a corpse, her eyes became black burning masses, and her tongue shot out like a serpent in between massive growing fangs. All the sirens screeched in anger and the dead howled. Tirro figured negotiations were now over. As all parleys with the beings in rebellion to the Heavens should end.
The Story Will Continue Every Wednesday.
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