Demon in the Silent City
A Priest keeps its terrible secret
Previously Tourists Jade & Tammi paid a visit unaware that the city has been closed to visitors. Their quest for Instagram settings disturbs something ancient and evil. Told from 2 PoVs.
I heard their passing footsteps, but I kept praying, I dared not stop. But now I was not only praying for myself and my neighbours. I prayed for the two women, who visited our historic city unaware of the danger they were walking into. I made a case with my god for their safe passage out of our walled city. Their panic was palpable, but they didn’t have a clue of the menace, what they were running from. Only natives knew the name of the beast who awakes once a year. Kilvarjo — the water demon.
Our island has a rich tradition of water folklore. Years ago, much of what is now under the sea was dry land. Many homes, a grand palace, and several churches lie submerged by seawater. We prayed for our survival, depending on our faith. We used it to protect and buoy us, to take us forward. The sea has always provided both livelihood and revenue, but it can be a cruel master. Our people ate what they caught and exported it too. When water levels began to rise, our lowlands were flooded. Scientists would say tectonic plates shifted, but centuries ago, when my people were primitive, they blamed demons from the sea for wreaking their revenge.
Legend tells that one mighty demon, Kilvarjo was tasked with watching over this island, to monitor our human ways. His vigilance ensured we always showed respect. To appease the demon, a fisherman should return ten percent of his catch to the sea. Many boats bore a hieroglyph to represent the water demon, painted on their craft’s prow. One night of the year, the Friday before the Festival of Fireworks, it is said that Kilvarjo can rise from his resting place in the sea that surrounds the silent city, to roam. It is the night my people have always feared, being the time when he would dole out his terrifying retribution.
I shuddered to think of the more primitive days when the island made a sacrifice to the water demon; chaining a maiden to the harbor wall. The girl was doomed to wait, afraid and vulnerable until Kilvarjo claimed her or the tide rose and drowned her. Either way, she met a terrible fate. We were more civilized in this century, we toed the line rather than make a sacrifice.
Now I was worried, might Kilvarjo think … tonight … that these women, roaming the maze of the silent city, were our offering to him? I shook my head to loosen the image, which was too awful to contemplate.
Returning to my prayers, I slid each rosary bead between my fingers. I intoned the sacred words that would protect me and my town. I am one man, a cowardly man; I cannot, dare not, help.
Jade’s heart thudded in her chest. This was nothing like running on the treadmill. Dread was making her clumsy. A frantic fear had materialized in her body, actively trying to crawl out of her throat. She was possessed with such horror, that she could hardly draw breath. Her feet were screaming in agony, she’d worn shoes picked for Instagram pictures, made for leisurely strolling, not sprinting down stony streets like a bat out of hell.
She knew Tammi was panicked too: She had dropped her designer sunglasses as she ran and didn’t even consider going back for them. Neither of them could get their bearings — Jade was usually good at navigating, but in this moment her brain felt scrambled by fear.
They heard the noise again, not exactly a growl, but something primal and menacing, making their stomachs shrink. This time it was closer, accompanied by heavy tread, and scraping, if that was footsteps the creature that made the sounds was closing in on them. They had to get away. Dusk was brief in this part of the world, and these narrow streets would be impossible to navigate in the dark.
Jade spotted an alley that looked like a new option, so they dived down it and ran like the wind, only to find themselves back in the courtyard with the grand building looming over them again. She groaned aloud.
“We’ve doubled back on ourselves!” Tammi’s wail was filled with frustration.
“So let’s choose a different corner,” Jade was decisive.
Grabbing her friend’s hand, she pulled her towards the exit to the right of the stone steps of the imposing civic building. A bike was chained up in this side street, which they took as a good sign because they hadn’t encountered that before.
Although Jade’s legs were burning with lactic acid, she maintained a running pace. At this stage, both she and Tammi were gasping. It was a struggle to maintain momentum. Another piercing, unearthly cry poured adrenaline into their veins as they barrelled down the confines of the narrow stone street. Every door looked forbidding and the few windows were blind eyes, turned in on themselves. At the far end, the street widened. The women saw the stocks, and faint hope pricked against Jade’s skin. She sucked in a ragged breath.
“This way,” she gasped, grabbing Tammi’s wrist to speed her progress. They hurtled past the spot where, earlier, they had posed for pictures.
“The bridge!” Tammi’s voice held a note of relief.
Maybe because the town was built like a fortress, Jade had worried there would be some kind of portcullis or door that barred their way. After the confusion of the maze-like streets, they had begun to lose hope, but now there was a glimmer of optimism. The city’s narrow bridge, which looked down onto the long dry moat, was in sight.
To be continued ~ This story originally appeared on Medium but was inspired by a trip to Malta.