This ongoing work in progress is entirely a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed within are entirely fictional and any resemblance to people, living or dead is coincidental.
No part of the work may be reproduced in any form without the explicit permission of the author.
Copyright Ion Fyr 2022
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By the time he had got out his machete, the blade still barely reflective beneath streaks and smears of green and brown plant residue, his nose no longer was gushing as much.
Peering at his reflection in the blade, Pool was somewhat relieved. He did in fact have all of his teeth. The marks on his forehead and chin were negligible–nothing more than he had seen before from scuffles with hoodlums in Londbridge alleyways–his nose, however…
It was likely broken–it had been broken before, once, but this time, it looked it. Above his bloody mustache and smeared into his two weeks growth of beard, his nose was clearly bent to the side.
He set the machete down.
Gingerly at first, Pool placed the tips of his fingers against his nose. His palms now burned from the abrasions on his palms, but this was forgotten when his touched his nose.
With clenched teeth and pointed fingers, Pool pushed his nose back into alignment with the rest of his face.
It did not hurt as much as he had anticipated, but did begin bleeding heavily again for a while.
Tossing his hat and pack and the damned sticks, rather poles up, Pool, dizzy on his feet, managed to climb out.
He looked around.
The cause of his stumble was not a rock.
It was a massive tooth.
It was a meter long and attended by a protruding jaw of such proportions, he wondered if it belonged to a relative of those beasts he observed from the heights.
31st July, 1888…I think
My thoughts are muddled at present, but despite unfortunate and painful circumstances, I must document what I find now on the eastern slope of the same mountain (in the southwest quadrant of this island) while the experience is fresh.
Pool went on to describe the tooth and the jaw…
Surveying the vicinity, behind a rather large bounder, I found, jutting from the glacial till, a skull of enormous proportions…the word ‘enormous’ loses its meaning on this journey.
Its length was at least ten meters and the visible eye socket might make a shelter for the night.
At first glance and thought, I considered it might be the skeletal remains of one of the prior described animals, but within a few moments I came upon the large knuckle bones of a claw. How do I know this is a claw, rather than the fin bones of a massive whale? The talons, precisely. Each great digit possessed a long sword-like claw.
Pool’s pencil was in need of sharpening and his nose had punctuated the page with reddish brown spots, so after providing a half dozen sketches and assessments of dimensions, he broke off and ate a meagre lunch.
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Ion Fyr 