Swamp of Betrayal

The water was ankle deep and my torch’s flame tangoed with the fog. Each step was heavier than the last. The monk said the last missing ingredient was going to be on a lone isolated island in the middle of the swamp. He said at the base of a large cypress tree would be purple moss that would complete the recipe for the elixir.

The fog was dense and the trees made me feel claustrophobic. The monk said to go north east and once the water seemed to get too deep to walk even further, the island would then be near. Many have traveled to the swamp, but only few returned. If my son had any chance of surviving, I needed that purple moss. I thought to myself, there's no going back now. With the top few buttons undone and my sleeves rolled up, I navigated around the swampy tupelos.

I gripped my torch in my left hand. The flame punched out yellow light fighting through the cloudy fog. I checked my compass every few steps to ensure I was always pointed north east. A little paranoid with the direction, the compass was the only thing keeping in route. The sun was setting, but it was still hot as hell. My shirt stuck to my chest as my lungs inhaled the humid air.

The brim on my brown fedora was moist, sweat was beading down my forehead, the warm water was getting deeper, it was now up to my lower calf. The trees were closing in, I could feel something watching me, I told myself not to panic. Every few feet I felt as if something moved in the distance or something was lurking in the water waiting to jump out. I carried on.

I slushed my feet through the green murky water wanting to get the purple moss as soon as possible. The waterway was narrowing and the trees bent in blocking my path. I took out my knife to cut a few branches and vines. I climbed and crawled through to continue my journey. The compass still read north east, the water was now up to my knees. I looked back, I thought I heard something, nothing was there.

The final ingredient for the elixir was in the middle of the swamp. If I was able to get just a sliver of the purple moss the monk said he’d be able to make a cure for my son. After four doctors, three apothecaries, and two botanists, this monk felt like my last opportunity.

I pushed through the water moving as fast as I could knowing time wasn’t on my side. Something brushed my leg, I flinched, I looked down, it was just a fish. I exhaled. 

The compass still read north east. The sun was now gone and the fog was clearing. The darkness consumed me while the moon and the stars greeted me. I had to stay focused, I moved forward.

The water was now waist deep. I pushed my thighs through the murky water. My arm was getting sore from holding the torch. The monk said once the water hits your stomach, you only have a little bit further to go.

I heard a branch crack and I looked to see what it was. It was just a bird perched on a tree. The bird crowed and flew away. Maybe it knew something I didn’t. I kept my eyes peeled for anything lurking, I was alone, but I felt in my nerves something else was here with me.

The thick swamp water hugged my waist. It was gross to slush through. I was deep in this water I was begging to get out. It was too dark, too muggy, too much for my soul. After hours of trekking these wetlands, something purple finally caught my eye. Was it actually the purple moss? I got a sudden rush of adrenaline, my soreness was no more, my muscles felt strong again, my torch seemed brighter, I was getting closer.

My torch was running low, but it was the only thing I had so I gripped it tight. I told myself that all I needed was to see a few feet in front of me.

When I was racing to the small plot of land was the first time I saw the beast. Its tail slithered in the water about ten feet in front of me. I saw the scaly tail emerge and move like a snake with spikes on its back through the water. I stopped dead I my tracks.

I didn’t make any sudden movements. Torch in hand standing in waist deep water, I was no longer alone. I saw the purple moss in the near distance, a few more feet and the moss was mine. But even then, how would I escape.

I felt something brush my leg. I hoped it was another fish. I couldn’t see anything in the disgusting water. Standing still I saw the tail again to the side of me sliding through the water, this time the tail was a little closer. Survive or die, fight or flight, I knew my life was being threatened and I had to move.

I made a break for it thinking if I could get to the large cypress tree on the island I could climb it and wait out the night. I only made it few feet before I was greeted by two yellow eyes that emerged from the water. I stopped and stood still. The croc’s eyes were narrow and mean, its stout started to float in front with a jaw full of razor sharp teeth. My torch’s flame bounced off it’s dark green skin.

My heart was racing. I waved my torch at it. The croc didn’t flinch. I kept waving it and yelling, the croc looked unimpressed. The croc was perfectly still, just like the glassy water, but I was ready for it if it moved. Then it slowly sunk back into the the water. Just like that it was gone. Did I scare it away? I stood there still, silent, serene, feeling alone in the swamp holding my torch. Whatever happened, whatever made the croc disappear gave me another opportunity to move.

After standing still for moments taking in the silence and contemplating my next action, before I could even lift a leg, that’s when it struck. The croc’s jaw snapped into my right leg giving me an excruciating feeling throughout my whole body. My neck spiked up as I looked up at the moon in pain, I dropped my torch, the swamp extinguished it. I screamed releasing my lungs of the hurt one could feel when being attacked by a vicious beast. I was no match for the unbelievable strength the crocodile possessed. The croc’s sharp teeth pieced my calf, I could see my blood begin to decorate the water. If only I knew to take a deep breath.

The croc pulled me under. I was in pain being dragged under water not knowing if I was going to drown or die from blood loss. It felt like being pulled by a boat under water. I had no escape. Water was rushing through my nose, blood was leaking from my leg, pain was filling my body, I was begging for the croc to let me go.

As the croc dragged me under water for what felt like forever. It must have been at least 30 seconds of him shaking me and dragging me through the swamp. Its teeth clawed into my leg treating me like rag doll. Suddenly we beached on piece of land and I inhaled every bit of air the Earth offered. I was feeling numb from the pain, I was inches from passing out. The croc still had me in it’s grasp.

My leg was bleeding profusely. The pain was agonizing. I could see the holes in my leg oozing blood. The croc’s jaw was clenched around my leg. I could feel it’s teeth stuck inside my calf. The burning sensation of pain stung as the blood continued to leak out of my skin. As we laid on the land, I met eyes with the croc, for just a second it looked remorseful. But just then it’s eyes narrowed and I felt his jaw get tighter. I squinted in pain. The croc began to shake.

I was a toy to the monster. The croc barrel rolled and I rolled with it like a doll in the dryer. I couldn’t control my next set of movements. My arms were swinging, my hips were being turned across the mud. The croc violently shook its neck. I could feel my ligaments detaching. I was praying it let me go. I was hoping my leg would fall off. “Let Me Go!!”, I yelled. I wanted to pass out or even die at this point, but the only thing the kept me alive was the the thought of my son. I had to stay alive.

The shaking stopped. I looked at the croc, there was a moment of silence as we paused looking at each other. The air was thick. Would the croc make peace? Its dark eyes told me violence. The croc wasn’t moving, I didn’t know what it was waiting for. In this brief moment of silence I noticed a purple glow the right of me, it was the purple moss I had ventured here for. The last ingredient for my son’s cure was in arm’s reach, but I had to survive first.

I thought potentially I could reach for the knife by my side. This was as good an opportunity as any. Not wanting to make any sudden movements, I inched my hand towards my side. Centimeters away my fingers slowly crawled closer to my knife. Silently I unhooked the button clasp, and I began to wrap my hand around my knife. Knowing I had a firm grasp on the knife I had to react fast. I quickly unsheathed the knife and with one fast motion I struck the crocodile in the center of the head.

The croc released its jaw from leg. My legged looked shredded pork. The croc scurried off into the water. Was it gone, I thought to myself, the swamp silent only with the moon light peeking in. I crawled, dragging my leg, to the base of the cypress tree. I put my back against the tree with my legs sprawled, breathing profusely in pain. I ripped my shirt and tied it around my leg, whatever little that would do. 

Maybe I did kill the beast, maybe I was safe. Then, in front of me, I saw it’s yellow eyes again. The eyes starred at me. The predator was preparing to attack. I was a sitting duck. That’s when the croc made its move. With incredible speed it raced toward me. A terrifying monster with a ferocious bite was going to be last thing I ever saw. The monster opened its mouth ready to bite my head off, I scuffled aside just in the knick of time avoiding its teeth. I took the knife and stabbed it right into it’s neck. The croc’s blood blasted out onto the scene. I turned the knife feeling the blood leaking onto my hand.

I sat there in silence. It was over. The croc was dead, I leaned back looking at the moon through the trees, I passed out.

After a few hours I stirred awake, dawn was approaching, the dead croc laid next to me. While collecting my thoughts the purple hue of the moss caught my eye once more. The morning dew glistened on the top. I pulled my knife out of croc and cut a chuck of the moss and stashed in my pocket.

The pain was excruciating and my leg was torn to bits, but I had to get home. I took pieces of the tree and made a makeshift raft out of the branches and vines. It was sufficient enough, I just needed help getting back.

I used the raft to float back to where I started. The compass now pointed south west. I inched along the swamp in pain. Once the water got too shallow I hopped and dragged my leg back.

Once I got back to the ministry the doctors attended to my leg. I gave the monk the purple moss and he immediately concocted the elixir I needed for my son.

The doctors said my leg would never be the same and I’d always have a limp. I consider it a small price to pay for curing my son.