The Unknown Turaga
It’s been a while since I’ve written here, but I feel recent event will have to be recorded, and this time, I will not be carving it for the public to see tomorrow, when the couriers spread word of the city’s news to every home on Metru Nui.
My name is Kodan, and I have discovered something terrible.
I assume whoever is reading this is familiar with Turaga Dume, the Turaga of Metru Nui. He is often seen nowadays either addressing Matoran in the Coliseum or on the large monitors installed around the city. I’m sure I am not the only one to notice this, but he seems to avoid public encounters that are one-on-one or require too much casual conversation. He rarely calls on the Toa in person any more, and I am called on far less. At first, I assumed it was merely a passing mood of the Turaga’s; he rarely acts in such a way, but what other reason could he have for such odd behaviour?
Next came the stories. I ignored them at first, thinking they were made up by paranoid Matoran travelling the streets at night. But they kept coming, more and more Matoran coming to the Toa and myself with stories of sinister-looking beings skulking around at night. After so many reports, I hesitantly handed the reports on to Turaga Dume, who sent me a response in the form of a written letter, stating that I was to record actual news, not tricks of the light, and I was forbidden to print any of the accounts. No matter how much I told the growing number of Matoran witnesses, they would not waver in their insistence.
I convinced Toa Naho to accompany me one night, in search of the mysterious shadows. We patrolled for much of the night, and just before daylight peered over our fair city, we saw it. A huge, nearly invisible creature, with massive claws that glinted in the thin beam of morning sunlight that had miraculously flickered by us. Toa Naho started forwards, her rapier in hand and ready to swipe at the smallest movement. But, just like that, the beast was gone again as the sunlight slithered back. The sun was rising behind us, and Toa Naho was uneasily glancing at the shrinking shadows on the street, weapon still raised and ready. After a minute or so, she sheathed her blade, looking vaguely worried.
I now wonder if I should have regretted volunteering to deliver the news, but I do not feel like it is something that I would leave to anyone else. I was, after all, the one to record the goings-on of the city. So, for once, I was the courier instead of the Chronicler.
I would see something dreadful that morning, but I did not know it, as I raced with sunbeams towards the impressive silhouette of the Coliseum on the horizon, praying that the thing was not lurking in the alleys or skulking after me in the shadows. I made it to the doors and thanked the Great Spirit between gasps of exhaustion and relief. I had ascended the stone steps, walked through the silent corridors, and saw the Turaga’s door ajar.
I should not have looked.
I saw… I saw something terrible. Shadows clung to the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and circled around the Turaga himself. But it was not the Turaga, not the Turaga we respected and trusted. It was a monster, a twisted creature who wore the guise of the Turaga of Metru Nui. It looked like the Turaga, and yet it was not him, it could not be, it was too gnarled and tainted in soul.
This image of the beast in the Turaga’s clothing flashed by in a mere instant, and suddenly the room was golden, lit by the sunrise filtering through thin curtains, fluttering softly in the soft breath of a morning breeze. Turaga Dume turned from his mirror, and smiled at me. It was not a nice smile.
“Now, now, Kodan,” he chided, the sickly leer still etched in his features. “I did tell you I was not having any more… visits.”
My heartlight flashed erratically, and I tried to cover it with a hand and feign my sheer horror was mere exhaustion. “Ah, my apologies, Turaga. I meant no disrespect. Toa Naho and I decided to look for that creature last night, you see, to put those rumours to rest-“
“And I trust you found them to be nothing but silly stories?”
“Quite the opposite, Turaga. We saw the beast, it was just as the Matoran had described-“
The Turaga raised a hand to quiet me. “Oh, my. So, you are making up stories too, are you?”
“No, Turaga! We saw it!”
“Wouldn’t it be a problem if you told more of these... lies? Poor Matoran might believe you, and that would do nothing but cause an unnecessary panic.”
It pains me even to think on what happened next, even as fleetingly as a brief recall for the sake of this journal. It was a scene that will undoubtedly plague my nightmares for the rest of my however short life. It was terrifying, it was gruesome to see, and I could only shield myself from what was to come. I felt that I was doomed as the monster loomed over me, its ugly maw a mere hand width from my mask. I fell to the floor and curled with my arms over my head in a desperate attempt to protect myself, but I could feel the thing’s breath, hot and putrid, on the back of my neck. I couldn’t look at the face again, the mottled, rusted thing that glared at me with crimson, burning slits and was almost like a Rahi but not a Rahi, it was too scheming, too… too…
I opened my eyes, and saw Toa Naho looking at me, concerned. The Turaga was kneeling at my side as if I had collapsed. The Turaga then told Toa Naho that perhaps I should take a day from my usual duties and, perhaps, follow her along to close a sea gate. It wasn’t going to be exciting, but it would give me reason to have a well-earned break. I tried to object, but unfortunately, neither the Turaga or Toa Naho would have any of it. So, I left with Toa Naho, and she allowed me to stop by my hut before we set off with another Toa.
I know I will not return from this voyage. I know that Turaga Dume- or whatever is in his place- knows that I learned his secret. And I know that he will continue whatever he is planning, unless someone can stop him.
I haven’t told Toa Naho about this. Hopefully, if I tell no one, I will be the only one to be eliminated. I doubt she would believe me if I told her, anyway; she would most likely tell me it was due to my faint, or from a night without sleep. So, I will leave my journal, hidden from the Turaga’s impostor and that Kanoka-wielding, clawed beast that stalks our streets. I will place it somewhere only a true, pure-hearted resident of Metru Nui can find it, and pray that they will be able to ward off whatever evil those monsters plan to bring.
Edited by ZippyWharrgarbl, Nov 29 2012 - 07:02 PM.