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The Unfortunate Account of the Amphibian Man
The Unfortunate Account of the Amphibian Man

The Unfortunate Account of the Amphibian Man

There was once a myth of an Amphibian Man. Such stories echoed among rural communities of old like an icy wind; folk tales of a gruesome, predatory creature, that would arise from the river and gobble up unsuspecting children; a deformed malice, the bane of the innocent and of the meek, a dejected wretch, a damned soul lurking in the shadows. Amateur drawings of the creature depicted a devilish scar on its flesh, green tentacles that would engulf and poison it’s victims, sinister and ghastly spikes that grew from a gaunt and hollow body. They depicted perverted, glazed over eyes, and rotting skin, and a grotesque, balding scalp.

Such a man lived in a shallow river that meandered gently below a rocky slope above which resided a humble village. The village was inhabited by a community of affluent fishermen, that were in its day well regarded by the Crown for their plentiful supply of cod, and from which prospered with, among other blessings, supplies of grapevine wine.

The Amphibian Man lived by his lonesome however, an existence that had its reasons. His skin was a putrid yellow and riddled with pulsating purple veins that concocted a sickly and revulsive complexion. Such ugliness was contributed furthermore by a wretched snakelike scarlet mould obtained by life underwater, that resided on his left cheek and carved its way down his neck and curled off towards his shoulder blade, which was jagged and jutted out from his slimy flesh due to a lack of nutrients. His spine protruded like jagged bumps from his skin, and his circular, cloudy eyes sat firmly forward in his face, however such eyes while bulging and seemingly bursting from the wrinkled eyelids, had embedded within them a glimmer of pure deep aqua that shone and sparkled like pearls as the light reflected off the glistening surface. And, while his teeth were like hungry daggers in his mouth, the corners of his dripping lips could form a wide and embracing smile. He would be troubled by patches of mouldy and bruised flesh, but he would cover them with knots of vine that slithered around his skin like thick green bandages, an impressive feat of dexterity for a man cursed with firmly webbed hands and feet. Strangely however, he also was blessed with a full, shining head of long, elegant, healthy golden hair that tickled the tips of his shoulders.

The Amphibian Man would begin his day in a fashion of which he derived much joy. He would hold himself against the current in between two rocks, and bask outstretched with eyes closed, limp head resting just below the surface, feeling the gentle currents stroke and soothe his skin as the morning sunlight dazzled and danced on the surface and warmed his blood. He would open his eyes, and utilise his translucent set of eyelids, to observe the pure sunlight in a way perhaps no other person could. He could gaze longingly into it with no impairment to his vision and absorb a beauty that eluded the common folk, a kaleidoscope of wisplike, colourful, refracted light that took the forms of far-off visitors from the stars. They were his only company.

Once his blood was flowing nicely, with a great smirk on his face, he would race among the currents, swerving and propelling himself forwards by pushing against rocks to his side, chasing down fish and dragging them to his den of rocks that provided a shade by the woodland opposite the village. He would then sit in the shallows by his den after hurling the captured fish on land and would fiddle with whatever discarded items found themselves tossed into the river. Today, with pace on his side, he had managed to retrieve a variety of discarded mouldy apples that had been dumped from a barrel downstream. He tossed them up in the air and laughed, with a gulping, uneven, but captivatingly sincere laugh, at the amusing plonking sounds they would make in the shallow water. He then laid back and munched on the fruit as he observed men with fishing rods marching to the riverbank some distance away. Rummaging through his selection, he found a single apple that lacked the mould of the others. Marvelling at the unusually pristine object, he decided to wrap it inside a vine pocket he had crafted on his thigh, alongside a reserve of small fish, and continued consuming the rest.

While in water due to racing among the rocks he had amassed a significant bulk of muscle that gifted him speed, strength, and the manoeuvrability to effectively catch prey, on land it was another matter. His slimy skin and webbed feet made walking a pitiful affair, he would swerve and slither on the rocks and stagger with flailing arms as if a drunken puppet. Thus, he kept to the water, and laid back in the shallows watching the village people from afar.

On the riverbank to his side, a man talked loudly to a young boy and pointed to a shallow patch of water, passing a fishing rod. The Boy stumbled nervously to the shallows and stopped with the rod, fumbling with it and glancing around with wide eyes. The Boy attempted tossing the hook and bait into the water, only to tangle the hook on his arm and lose the bait in the river. The Boy then sat, pitifully attempting to untangle himself as he glanced back in a worried manner to his father and the shadows of bellowing, bickering men in the distance. As the Boy squirmed at the riverbank, the Amphibian slowly rose from the shallows, putrid skin dripping, and eyes fixed on the Boy. It slowly hobbled towards the child, hunched over and drooling. The Boy, still fiddling, sensed the noise behind him and shifted to observe the creature slowly pacing towards and now towering over him. The Boy collapsed onto his back, murmuring, paralyzed with fear, desperately trying to find coordination in his feet but unable to pick himself up from the ground. The Amphibian, baking in the sunlight, leaned down and, with great care, handed the Boy a small pile of fish, and drew a brief smile, before lurching back into the water. The Boy, shaking, anxiously clutched the fish as they slipped between his fingers. The Amphibian Man rose his head briefly from the water, gazing straight at the child, and as the Boy watched, gave a quick wink, and then turned and swam away.

Back at his den as twilight approached, the Amphibian Man struggled and moaned, sitting upright, brushing charred, dead skin off his back, and watched as he saw atop the slope, the silhouette of the Boy handing the fish to his father, but the Father shaking his head, gesturing the Boy back to the riverbank. The Amphibian Man then hunkered off to his rocky den, his blood cooling in the shadows.

The next day as the Amphibian Man was chasing down fish, he encountered the Boy again. The Boy was sitting by the river, with the hook latched into the water but unaware it was caught on a rock. He sat, bored and alone, head tilted and idly whistling as his soft youthful blonde hair wavered in the wind. The line began to tug however, and the Boy leapt up with excitement, only to find it was the Amphibian Man, who rose from the shadows and strode clumsily towards the Boy. When leaving the water, the Man slipped and face-planted onto the shore, in a pathetically comical manner with wide eyes and tremendous gulp of which made the Boy laugh. The Boy gingerly approached the Man, and the Man swivelled upwards suddenly, in his webbed palms wielding multiple larger, recently caught fish. The Boy nervously took the fish and stuffed them in his bag. The Man then stumbled upright and made a series of gurgling sounds and jumped around on the shore, swerving and swaying, raising his eyebrows to the Boy.

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The Boy then sat and observed as the Man pulled out the apple, and began to juggle with it by the river, juggling with one hand, then one leg, then both with only one hand and one leg, gurgling and swaying and playing around with his round beady blue eyes as he did it. The Boy clapped and giggled, the webbed fingers making excellent juggling palms. The Man then approached the rod and the Boy put bait on the hook, and he pointed to a deep patch of the river with his entire arm and swung the rod in as the Boy watched.

Within a minute the line tugged, and with rapid reflexes the Man pulled out a small green fish spasming on the end of the hook and the Boy applauded once more. The Boy then retrieved the fish and added more bait, and the Man pointed once more, and the Boy swung the rod, and soon, after a brief struggle with the rod and the Man’s assistance, retrieved a bright scarlet fish of which he slipped with great pride into his bag. The Man applauded, slapping his webbed fingers together and smirking and gulping at the Boy’s success. The Man then went back to continue juggling, only to halt in his staggers as a party of growling, yowling men in unkempt attire circled surrounded the Amphibian by the riverbank, clutching rods and spears. They grimaced at the creature and spat, and the Father pulled the Boy away, and then stormed up to the Amphibian, steely blue eyes gazing it down with contempt, before taking a nervous step back as it twitched, and then thrust forward once more, jolting it with his rod, shoving the Amphibian back into the river. The men then wailed at the Amphibian and muttered accursed words until it swam far off into the eerie distance. The Amphibian submerged itself under the water’s surface and gazed with its pale blue eyes as the Father dragged the Boy back up the slope, where bright fires illuminated the sky and the silhouettes of thatched roofs and the snakish entrails of smoke and the flickering newborn moon. The Amphibian Man then slithered away with drooping eyes among the currents as darkness began to set in once more.  

The following day as The Amphibian Man basked half asleep under the noon sun, he was awoken by underwater vibrations, and shot his head upward, eyes straining to see a makeshift banquet by the riverbank. Many village members appeared to be present, cheering and dancing. Among them was the Father, who sat laid back among the centre of the village people, patting The Boy with an uncomfortable amount of force, who stood in a solemn manner, appearing mute and moody. The Father then gestured to the Boy, the fishing rod, and then himself. The Father clutched a cup of wine and sipped from it eagerly before hammering it down and garbling something prideful but unintelligible, and the people cheered and garbled back and sat and wolfed down fish and slurped wine and partied and paraded among the riverbank. The Amphibian shuddered and sulked away, afraid of being spotted.

As twilight approached the Amphibian had failed to catch any fish and was growing hungry. The sun had been baking down brilliantly but after being interrupted his blood was now growing cold. He decided he must venture back into what remained of the sun and attempt to find fish if he wanted any chance of having enough energy for the next day. However, as he meandered through the river, he gazed up and observed two silhouettes on the slope above. A woman, or more accurately a girl, with arms folded paced down the slope to the river and murmured and shook her head desperately, as the Father, wine cup in hand, staggered after her, slurring his words. He caught up to her and clutched her clothes, only for her to squirm in his grip and he grew angrier, until she pulled away from him and slipped onto the rocks, hitting her head, and sliding into the river. The Father stood motionless on the rocks, shouting for the girl, spluttering and stumbling back and forth, fidgeting. In the new-born darkness his eyes then caught the gaze of the Amphibian, and the Father’s skin flushed a sickly pale. However, the Amphibian then slipped away, swimming rapidly after the girl who was being pulled by the currents. Though his blood was cooling, he maintained the strength to lift the girl out of the water. With his slimy webbed palms, he caressed her and tried desperately to feed her his apple, as her twitching fingers clawed at his heaving torso in shock before growing slowly limp. The Amphibian groaned and tried to shake the girl, but she was already dead in his aching arms.

As the sky was lit scarlet by the fading sun, the Amphibian Man hauled the young girl in his arms and staggered towards the village as his skin began to bake and dry and his movement grew rigid and his breath sharp. He glanced around with urgency, his webbed feet finding grip in the mud. He approached a brightly lit hut, grunting and gulping and gurgling for the attention of anyone inside. He slumped inwards and was confronted by an elderly man in rich white robes and a pristinely trimmed white beard, who was scribing at a desk. The Elder glared up at the Amphibian and then stood up with shock as the Amphibian placed the girl down and gurgled with distress. The Elder leaned forward with a furrowed brow, but his eyes met those of the Amphibian’s with a queer familiarity and a sudden onset of calm. In a hurried desperation, through strained gurgles the Amphibian explained his account, and gestured outside to show the Elder the scene of the crime. The Elder nodded with astute understanding, and followed the coarse jerky movements of the Amphibian Man back down the slope to the riverbank.

The Elder requested the features of the perpetrator in an increasingly weary voice, and the Amphibian described the man as bulky, with glowing, golden skin, long fair hair, and a bright, charming smile. While the Amphibian continued to mutter and murmur on the rocks, the Elder frowned out into the sunset and breathed heavy, shaky breaths as his wizened cheeks grew wet, and as the Amphibian was looking away from him, the Elder grimaced and clutched the slimy pulsating neck of the Amphibian and they both tumbled into the river. Grunting and shifting in agony the Elder forced himself atop the Amphibian and his face grew red as he forced the creature’s head down below the surface as bubbles arose to the top and the Amphibian’s pure blue eyes gazed with petrified sadness up at the Elder, who glared back at the Amphibian with an anguished sadness, until the Amphibian’s desperate flailing transitioned into motionlessness. The Elder with stinging, blotched eyes, pulled himself up slowly and painfully and trudged to the shore as the Amphibian lay limp, it’s head underwater and being pulled sideways by the current, with only it’s wretched ear exposed to the surface.

The Father then staggered down the slope as the Elder, wheezing and exhausted, continued upwards, looking past his son and placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, whispering into his ear as the Father gazed down at the Amphibian. In that moment, the Amphibian heard all the collusion, the corrupt deceit, the sinister lies, and sacrifice of dignity, all laid out and echoing quietly across the river. His weakened body shifted slowly and began to rise, and the Father gaped in paralyzed terror at the creature, only to watch as the Amphibian instead slipped away, allowing the current to carry its body far off into the shadows. As its limp rigid body scraped and slithered downstream, forlorn tears meshed and mixed with the soft currents of water, until a gelid night lingered over the shallow river and the Amphibian Man was gone. 

Yet in that night, one solitary boy remained, listening to the sounds that were gently carried over soft ripples in the water, and watching the dances of shadows from across the riverbank. The boy had listened closely and he had saw well. He had seen two bodies flow past him downstream, one a monster, another a girl. It was said thereafter that this monster had taken this girl, but it was not what the Boy had heard, and it was not what he had saw. He had struggled to understand why the folk turned so viciously against a silly looking water man who made silly noises and played silly games, and who delivered him bundles of fish. And he had never understood why they spoke of the Amphibian in hushed whispers, but never spoke of the Man. Yet, although none of the villagers would believe his account of all he had saw and all he had heard, for he was just a boy, he would never forget the ways of the Amphibian Man. Not even when the Boy himself became a Man. 

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