Jun 26, 2020 by Andrew Walbrown

Journal Entry #1
2nd of April, 1899

I must say, if there was one positive to come from that ugliness with Spain, it is that travel by ship has become far easier than ever before. So much more of the world has become more accessible now that the United States Navy is considered formidable, at least more so than prior to the war. Past excursions to the southern hemisphere were often waylaid by pirates or blockades. But today is a new day, and those previous obstacles have seemingly vanished from the world, and if not the world, then most certainly from my journey.

I am uncertain as to where I am at the current moment. The doldrums are far behind us, thankfully, but since then I have lost track of how far south we have traveled. At the previous port, the only language I heard was Portuguese, which would suggest we are off the coast of Brazil. Which part of Brazil, however, I do not know. The nation is so large we could be anywhere between 2000 and 5000 miles away from our destination. Of course, that assumes I know our destination. Which I do not.

Our destination is still a mystery to me. "South," is what I was told, and is what I am always told whenever I ask the Captain. There are islands in the far south, some named while others go nameless. To the best of my knowledge, there is no local populace living on the island of our destination, at least none that is human. I am sure there are gulls and terns living there in massive populations, as my colleagues have informed me. But it is not for gulls and terns that I travel southward, it is for some creature known as the Xakki. 

What do I know of the Xakki? Very little, unfortunately. It is some kind of bloodthirsty beast allegedly living on one of these islands, though reports of it seem to be based more on alcohol and hysteria than hard science. The first fishermen to the area returned with news of the beast, claiming it was some kind of sea monster twice the size of a man. According to the story I have heard, the fishermen caught the Xakki in a net, and once upon the deck, the beast proceeded to use its razor-sharp teeth to rip apart anyone who drew near. The crew lost four men to the Xakki before it snatched one last unfortunate soul in its jaws and dove back into the sea, each man watching in horror as the sailor's screams were silenced by the freezing waves. Or so they say.

That story is from five years ago, and since then more Xakki sightings have been reported, each story with its own tragic ending. Some of the braver, or more reckless, in society have attempted to kill or trap the animal, but to no avail. Most do not return, either succumbing to the elements or disease. However, the few who have returned refuse to talk about their harrowing experience. There was one man I interviewed from New Bedford who claimed to have come face-to-face with a Xakki, who jumped at every little sound: creaking footsteps upon loose floorboards, the sound of a fork on a plate, the falling of an acorn into a pile of leaves. He refused to talk about the Xakki itself, as though mentioning the beast by name would summon one to ravage his home, however, he did tell me one interesting piece of information: the etymology of the word "Xakki." 

"It comes from a Native language near the tip of the continent," he said, "its rough translation is, 'Heart-Butcher."

I, Silas Xavier Barnes, am searching for the Heart-Butcher.

May God help me.
 
 

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