The Crystal Children

From the collected diaries of Sister Mythri.

The Children Of The Crystal

Underneath my abbey lies a complex system of crystalline caves. The moonlight is endlessly reflected and bent and twisted among them; granting the place a blue, moody haze with which one can view the twisted children of the crystal's milk.

They grow thick, fat, and strong on the slowly dissolving crystal. It feeds them with the the black magic that is trapped within. They grow in obscure angles; limbs jutting out horribly from the most vile of places. Their eyes are dark and pitted brown, and they are quite nearly blind. Sometimes we can hear the screams of the newborn young in the chapel. The floor is far too thin there. I am afraid that while we are worshipping within one of the filthy beasts will penetrate the stone flooring and drag one of us down into their waiting jaws! I will speak to the abbot about it, and perhaps he will be able to bless the chapel and keep us safe.

There is something quite wrong with the crystal children. They do not seem particularily natural, or godly. They cannot speak, and we dare not venture far into the caves, so it is quite impossible for us to contact them. The only observations we have been able to make were from a great distance with the aid of a lens.

Today, Brother Phillipe was reciting the poetry of the goddess in the chapel, and as I had feared, the crystal children were aroused by his lovely singing voice; and they burst through the floor in front of the altar, snatching him in their arms and pulling him under. We dashed to his aid, but to our surprise we found him quite alive and well, held gently aloft by one of their massive bewildering limbs. We observed from the floor of the chapel, looking down into the hole. They seemed to undulate with his voice, and would shake him quite angrily should he stop his song. We yelled and screamed for them to release him, but they were quite insistent.

After a short while they slowly lowered him into an elbow-like joint, where he reclined quite comfortably and even fell asleep after a spell - just the right time to rescue him. The abbot supplied Brother Miezcko and I with a sturdy rope as well as two shortswords, should we need to defend ourselves. The children were all fast asleep. They were sedated by the songs of our brother. I touched their skin. It was porous and leathery, such as the hide of an undersea creature. It was warm and supple. We crawled quietly up to where Brother Phillipe reclined and tied the rope around him. The abbot was waiting, some ten meters above, and he began tugging on the rope carefully.

The elbow joint snapped shut with a horrendous crack, and Brother Phillipe was reduced to a stain. The rope dangled there, gore-soaked and torn, and the abbot yelled in terror and dropped it. The joint slowly opened and then set back in place with a creak. Brother Miezcko and I ran; we ran like the dark son himself was on the hems of our robes. Every arm and eye and mandible of the children awoke as we ran past them. The entrance loomed in front of us, and we threw ourselves upon the wet grass outside with tremendous relief. We looked up and saw a dark eye.

The child standing in front of us was moderately sized; about ten feet tall, covered in bumps and bones and long fingers. It looked us up and down slowly, and its fingers fluttered back and forth. It crouched slightly. It had sprouted a pair of hands on its underbelly; and somehow - we are not sure how - it had freed itself from the mass and had become self-sufficient.

And it was beautiful in its sickness.

I began to pray silently; to every god whose creed I had ever known, to every faith my spirit had ever been touched by. A warm moist wind brushed leaves into the air with a gentle swoon.

The child crossed its legs and sat down, still watching us with its horrendous eye.

Brother Miezcko began to run again. He slipped slightly on the muddy earth, and was only a scant distance away before the child swirled around gracefully and tossed him into the air. He landed with a dull crunch and screamed; still alive, but barely. I yelled to the child; to stop; to leave us in peace. It did not heed my words. It picked up my brother by his ankle and began to inspect him with a long finger, poking and prodding and touching. It seemed strangely fascinated with him, but Brother Miezcko was an ordinary man like any other.

The child placed him on the ground gingerly and waved at him; motioned for him to leave. And he did, slipping and cursing, and, damn his hide, dashing inside the abbey and bolting the gate shut.

I sat there on my knees in the rain, looking up at the beast. It blinked away the water that streamed down its face, and was still for a moment. My robe was dripping with the juice of the sky and of my fallen brother.

I whispered to him - please, please, to allow me to return to my home, to the faith I loved, and to the people who I loved. I was with child, I told him, with child from the brother whom had died in their grasp. I looked back to that day his vows were broken; when he had ravaged me, had destroyed me, inside his small cot, telling me to speak of not a word, or I would surely face the gallows - or worse - for being deflowered.

I realized that the child in front of me was not much different from the one inside of me.

"Look," I said to him. "I am a mother."

The child cocked his head to the side awkwardly; his tendons stretched and curled around the lumps of flesh on his neck. The child in me began to push, began to struggle, began to will itself into the world. I felt my own blood begin to dampen me, and the sky spun in bright flashes of branched lightning and thick cloud. My eyes closed against my will.

When I opened them again I was inside the caves, naked and cold. The child had brought me in.

My womb felt light and I realized what had taken place. Rocking back and forth softly and quietly in the arms of the child was my own newborn child; she was sticky and asleep, and smiling blissfully.

I bade the monster to let me hold her in my own arms, and he obliged, daintily handing me to her, as gentle as the touch of a feather. I pulled aside my baby's hair from her face and looked at her. Her eyes were glassy and half-open, and she was breathing very softly. I kissed her upon her head.

I glanced up at the beast, who was leaning forward, arms behind his back, almost as if he was trying to feign disinterest. But the way he looked at her was curious and innocent; I felt no threat. The beast pulled out of his crouch; it was the first time he had extended to his full height.

Out of his stomach jutted a large joint, and the remains of the dead rapist. The beast brushed bits of skin and teeth away carelessly; they clattered and splattered upon the sharp crystals. I was aghast for but a moment; and then, emotionless. I was, however, quite curious as to why exactly he had died; We had loved his songs as much as the crystal children did. Perhaps these monsters felt jealousy as well. But the beast was kind; and he brought me some milk to feed my baby with, as I was dry as a bone.

I pulled my baby close to my chest and fed her with the milk; it was silvery and thin.

The crystals began to glow orange with torch light. The abbot had brought help.

Into the cave stormed six men and the abbot; all armed with muskets and clad in holy ceramic armor. They raised their muskets and aimed for the eye of the gore-stained child.

"Don't," I screamed, reaching out towards them. The men stepped back in shock; they looked upon me as if I were a ghost, but then I realized it was not me they were looking at.

My baby girl was growing. Her head began to fill with blood rapidly; and her limbs stretched out and twisted into knots. Her chest bubbled and swelled and like a hellspawn she rose out of my arms and began stretching higher and higher; until she was taller than I was standing. Her face broke into two pieces vertically; from between them pushed a blood-stained hole which I realized was an eye. One of their eyes. My baby reached down and, her arm stretching into a vile blade of bone and muscle, tore out the stomachs of all of the men, including the abbot, in one mighty red sweep.

She had drank from the milk of the crystal; and now she was one of them.

I could not weep nor could I scream. There was nothing but horror; horror of the most demented and vile kind. I was alone here in this cursed place. I wondered what these creatures might have been before they drank of the crystal milk; perhaps they were young, ambitious adventurers? Rich noblemen searching for even more wealth?

The children faced me and the killer of Brother Phillipe leaned forward. His hands were cupped together; inside them was a small pool of the milk. I drank from it deeply.

As my arms grew long, I embraced my new child, and we were one.