Picture of SCP-XXXX from location of retrieval


Picture of SCP-XXXX from location of retrieval

Today, I watched a kraken die.

We saw the stain on our journey home. Black filth, stretching to the horizon. It was six more hours before we reached the creature. It was a youngling, barely a hundred feet long, lying on its back, unmoving. I ordered to lower one of our boats; four brave ones of my crew agreed to come with me.

As we neared the creature, I could smell its sickness. The kraken did not react as we approached, its arms spread out in the water, and a river of black blood pouring from its mouth. I reached and touched its hide, and felt a clingy, foul slime covering it.

We remained by the creature's side till sunset.

With the last light of the day, the kraken raised its head and begun to sing. I could hear the pain and fear in its voice. It lasted only few minutes, and then the creature stirred, and lived no more.

The world is changing. I can taste it in the wind. Forces that ruled it for centuries are now shrinking, crumbling. The mermaids are leaving these waters, deeper into the depths from which they once came, far beyond the reach of man. The Rift of Five Captains is gone, no trace of it left, only calm smooth waters where once it roared. The amulet that my brother gave me, which protected me well for all these years, had crumbled to dust. The English and the French grow bolder, sailing into the waters long under the Pirate Kings' rule. Our curses no longer cripple them so. Our ships no longer scare them so.

Last month I sailed to the Undiscovered Islands, where the native tribes pray to their gods, and where even the pirate kind dare not stay for long. I laid down my weapons, and entered their forests. I presented my gifts, and sat at their fires. I shared their food, and talked to their shamans. They told me of new magic being born in Europe. Hungry, twisted magic, beyond the sanity of men. It will grow and spread across the world, starving and strangling the old powers, until nothing is left. They told me of the cycles of the world, that all of this has happened before, and will happened again. They told me it cannot be stopped.

I will not accept that.

On Tortuga, there are rumors. Rumors of secret meetings of the Pirate Kings. Rumors of plans being made and of maps being drawn. Rumors of ships with strong crews and heavy cargo, leaving in the night, not to return. Rumors of totems and rituals.

I shall secure an audience with the Pirate Kings. Whatever their plans are, I will be a part of them. This malady is consuming our very world, but it will not take me. I will not sing my death into the night.

- Captain John Hayes, eighth of August, 1708.

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And this is the stuff below the footnotes.