The Lost Journal: The Temple of Leviathan

The hack’n’hike through the jungle was tough, even for my gazelle enhanced legs; it was as if the jungle itself fought my presence – from the clouds of biting flies to the ankle-twisting roots, the whole place was a horrible unfriendly mass of face slapping leaves and eye-gouging branches.
The Lost Journal - Hacking a path

It didn’t help that night was drawing in fast. Almost faster then my new eyes could cope with. In fact I would have sworn that the dark in this jungle was darker and more impenetrable than anywhere else. Still I kept hacking and walking. Occasionally, when the caterwauling of the indigenous wildlife got too loud and too close, I’d let fly with a round from my pistol. Ostensibly to frighten the creatures away (which it did) but also to keep my resolve up (only a partial success here I’m afraid).
The Lost Journal - Shooting the bloody monkeys

Night was was almost upon me and I was reaching the point I wished I’d made some sort of camp (or even better, gone home and tried again with some company) the ground beneath my boots changed subtly. It became less root tangles and more stony. It rose slightly and steadily before levelling off at a small flat clearing. A small flat clearing that contained a partially collapsed circular stone temple. A partially collapsed circular stone temple built around something I recognised instantly from the Professor’s journal.
The Lost Journal - The Temple

In the middle of the temple, silently spinning in mid-air, hovered a large charcoal grey and jet black orb. Leviathan. Its surface was covered in queer carvings that made my eyes itch deep in my skull as I stared at them.
The Lost Journal - Leviathan

It turned over and over, suspended by nothing, making no sound, just watching me. I knew it was watching me, instinctively I knew. I have never known such an evil. The air was frozen with it, as if it had stopped moving in absolute dread. No animal sounds vexed me now. No sounds at all save my own rapid, shallow breathing. I felt my legs weaken. My mind raced. The blood in my veins seem to have been replaced with ice. I had to run. Get away. I must leave here now. Terrible. Something terrible. Run. I had to run now!

And than a hand slapped down hard onto my shoulder!
The Lost Journal - Whose Hand?

To be continued…

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