Speaker 1: Imagine discovering a fossil so impossible that it could rewrite
everything we know about evolution. Now imagine that before anyone
can study it, every trace of it vanishes, almost as
if something's trying to keep it buried. In nineteen fifty four,
Creature from the Black Lagoon introduced audiences to one of
cinema's greatest monsters. But before anyone could encounter the gill Men,
it all began with a single fossilized hand hidden deep
within the Amazon rainforest. Tonight's story comes from the pages
of a forgotten horror classic. Close your eyes and let
the film play in your imagination. The jungle had a
way of swallowing sound. Even the rhythmic chop of machetes
through thick vines seemed to disappear beneath the endless chorus
of insects, distant birds, and rushing water. Powering tree stretched
towards the heavens, their branches weaving together so tightly that
sunlight reached the forest floor only in scattered beams. It
was a place where a modern world felt impossibly far away.
Professor Karl Maya wiped the sweat from his brow as
he studied the exposed rock face before him. For weeks,
his team had been excavating ancient sediment along the banks
of a forgotten tributary of the Amazon, searching for fossils
that might reveal what this land had looked like millions
of years ago. Most days offered little more than fragments
of shell or weathered bone. Today was different. One of
the workers called out in Portuguese, his voice echoing through
the trees. Maya hurried over there. Jutting from the stone
was a hand, not the hand of a man, nor
the claw of any animal he had ever seen. It
was long and skeletal, each finger ending in a wicked talon.
Thin membranes of fossilize webbing stretched between the digits preserved
in stone for untold ages. It looked as though the
creature had reached upward of another world. For time itself
sealed it away. Maya knelt beside the discovery, unable to
hide his excitement. What are you, he whispered. The fossil
was unlike anything in the scientific record. If the rest
of the skeleton could be found, it might answer questions
that had puzzled palaeontologists for generations. Perhaps this was evidence
of a forgotten evolutionary branch, something that had existed between
sea and land before disappearing into extinction, or so they believed.
Within hours, Maya set word to the nearest research station.
His message was urgent. He requested the assistance of doctor
David Reid, a respected ichthyologist whose knowledge of prehistoric aquatic
life was unmatched. If anyone could identify the impossible fossil
resting in the stone, it was read. Days later, the
research vessel Rita cut silently through the winding rivers of
the Amazon. Standing at the bow, David Reid watched the
dense rainforest slide past. Beside him stood doctor K. Lawrence,
whose sharp scientific mind was matched only by her quiet curiosity.
Near the helm, doctor Mark Williams guided the expedition with
practice confidence, already imagining the recognition this discovery might bring.
Each of them carried a different reason for making the
journey scientific discovery, professional ambition, curiosity. None of them imagined
they were sailing towards something that had never stopped existing.
When the Rita finally reached Maya's camp, the atmosphere fell
me wrong. No workers greeted them, no voices drifted through
the trees, the excavation site stood abandoned beneath in uneasy silence.
David Klim gone to the river bank, calling for Professor Maya.
Only the jungle answered. The camp had not been deserted peacefully.
Equipment lay overturned, canvas, Tents had been ripped from their supports.
Supply crates were scattered across the mud, as though something
powerful had torn through the camp without warning. Then they
found the fossil. He was still embedded in the rock,
exactly where Maya had described him, but every other fossil
had vanished. The surrounding cliff face had been smashed apart
with unbelievable force. Stone blocks weighing hundreds of pounds had
been ripped free and scattered across the jungle floor. David
ran his fingers across one of the fractured rocks. This
was an erosion, he murmured. No Mark replied quietly, this
was deliberate. No one said another word. Above them, something
moved high within the camp. Anopy branches swayed, leaves rustled.
When the crew looked up, there was nothing there, only
the jungle, watching, waiting. As the sun slid below the trees,
the expedition made its decision. Whatever had happened here, whatever
had driven Professor Maya's team away, The answers lay farther
down river, towards a place the local guides refused to name.
The place hidden beyond tangled waterways and towering cliffs, a
place they called the Black Lagoon. The Rita pushed steadily
against the current, its weathered hull cutting through water as
dark as polished glass. Behind her, the abandoned excavation camp
disappeared beneath the thick curtain of the rainforest. The head
lay a maze of twisting channels, hidden waterways, and walls
of vegetation so dense they seemed determined to keep the
world out. The farther they traveled, the quieter the jungle became.
At first, no one noticed. The engines hummed steadily. Crew
members busied themselves checking equipment, while doctor David Reid and
doctor k Lawrence carefully examined Professor Maya's sketches of the
fossilized hand. It's remarkable, kay said, softly, tracing one of
the drawings with her fingertip. If Maya was right about
the age, David nodded, it would change everything. Mark Williams
leaned over the chart table with a grin. Let's find
the rest of it first, though we can rewrite the
history books. The optimism was contagious for a little while.
Hours passed before anyone realized they hadn't seen another animal.
No birds circled overhead, no monkeys called from the trees.
Even the endless, buzzing insects that had filled the rainforest
seemed to have fallen silent. Only the steady thrum of
the Rita's engine disturbed the stillness. Captain Lucas frowned towards
the shoreline. I've been on Amazon rivers for twenty years,
he loved. Never heard of this spy, No one answered.
Some instincts are impossible to explain. They simply settle into
the pit of your stomach. By late afternoon, the river
narrowed into a pastaway, barely wide enough for the reader
to squeeze through. Towering cliffs rose from both sides, their
stone faces draped with vines older than memory itself. Massive
roots clung to the rock like the fingers of buried giants.
The air grew heavier, warmer, almost difficult to breathe, as
the vessel rounded one final bend, the river suddenly opened
into an enormous body of water. Everyone stopped what they
were doing. Before them stretched a hidden paradise untouched by civilization.
Crystal clear water reflected the emerald canopy overhead like polished glass.
Water lilies floated lazily across the surface. Curtains of mist
drifted silently between towering trees. It was breath taking and
somehow unsettler. It doesn't seem real, they whispered. David couldn't disagree.
The lagoon felt less like a place waiting to be
discovered and more like a world that had somehow slipped
through time, millions of years hidden behind walls of jungle,
millions of years left undisturbed. The crew anchored the rita
near the shore line just as the sun dipped towards
the horizon. Camp was established Quickly, generators were unloaded, diving
equipment assembled, camera gear inspected. Everyone kept busy, eager to
begin searching for the missing fossils. At first light. As
darkness settled over the lagoon, David wandered to the edge
of the water. The surface was perfectly still. He crouched,
dipping his fingers into the cold water for just a moment,
he thought he saw movement. A shadow, long and broad.
He passed beneath the surface without making so much as
a ripple. David looked up nothing, only his own reflection
staring back at him. You all right, Kay's voice startled him.
He voiced a smile. I thought, I uh saw a fish.
She glanced into the water. If it's as big as
your expression suggests, I'd rather none meet it. They laughed.
The sound seemed strangely out of place, as though laughter
itself didn't belong here. That night, the lagoon refused to sleep.
The crew lay awake inside their bunks, listening to unfamiliar
sounds drifting across the water. Something splashed far from shore,
a heavy branch cracked somewhere in the jungle, and then footsteps,
slow measure, moving across the deck above them. Captain Lucas
was the first of gabyline. He climbed the narrow stairs
with a revolver in one hand and a light held high.
The beam swept across the empty deck, ropes, barrels, diving tanks,
nothing else. He walked the perimeter carefully. Every line remained tied,
every hatch remained closed. No sign of an intruder. Satisfied,
he lowered the lantern. Then he noticed it water, fresh
droplets glistening across the wooden planks, not rain footprints, Large
wet impressions crossed the deck before disappearing over the opposite rail.
Lucas knelt beside one. It wasn't shaped like a boot
or a bare foot. Three enormous toads and the curved claws,
thin webbing stretched between them. He stared in silently, then
slowly raised the lantern towards the black water surrounding the Rita.
The lagoon remained perfectly calm, too calm. Something beneath the
surface exhaled. A single stream of bubbles drifted towards the moonlight,
then vanished. Lucas never saw the pair of eyes watching
him from just below the waterline, nor did anyone hear
the silent shape slipping back into the depths deep below
the Rita, hidden mongst forests of ancient reeds untouched since
another age. The creature circled patient, curious, watching the strange
visitors who had drifted into his forgotten kingdom for the
first time in countless centuries. The black Lagoon was no
longer his alone. Morning arrived. Beneath a veil of silver mist,
the Black Lagoon looked almost peaceful again, as though the
strange event of the previous night had been nothing more
than restless imaginations. Sunlights billed through brakes in the canopy,
scattering across the water and ribbons of gold. Captain Lucas
wasn't convinced. He stood alone at the stern, staring at
the damp footprints that still marked the deck. Though the
morning sun had began to dry them, their shape remained unmistakable,
three long toes, heavy claws, when no animal he knew
had left tracks like those. By the time the others gathered,
the footprints had become the center of every conversation. They
could have been made by a Cayman. One crewman suggested,
cayman doesn't climb aboard a boat, Lucas replied flatly. Williams
crouched beside the Prince, measuring one with a notebook. Whatever
made these, he muttered, it weighs as much as a man.
David Reid remained silent, His mind kept returning to the
shattered fossil sit up river, the destroyed camp, the missing skeleton,
and now these footprints. One mystery was beginning to answer another.
We dive, He finally said, Mark looked up. You think
it's still here. David's eyes drifted towards the endless stretch
of calm water. I think it never left. Within the hour,
the first dive team slipped beneath the surface. The world
below the lagoon was breathtaking. Sunlight pierced the crystal clear
water and shimmering columns, the illuminated forests of towering aquatic plants.
Strange fish darted between submerged trees whose roots disappeared into
impossible depths. Ancient stone formations rose from the lake beds,
like the ruins of forgotten temples. There was a world
untouched by mankind. David swam slowly, scanning every shadow for
signs of the missing fossil beds. Beside him, Kay adjusted
her mask and pointed toward a rocky outcrop were layers
of ancient sediment protruded from the cliff face. There, embedded
in the stone more fossils, broken shells, ancient fish, the
remnants of creatures that had vanished millions of years ago.
Excitement replaced fear. The expedition had been right. This lagoon
truly was a living time capsule. David reached towards the
exposed rock. Something moved not far away, a flicker, too
large to be a fish, too smooth to be drifting vegetation.
He turned quickly. Nothing only clouds of disturbed silk, slowly
drifting through the water. He frowned. His breathing echoed loudly
inside his diving helmet, and then something brushed against his
air hose. David spun around again, nothing. His pulse quickened.
He signaled to the others, did you see that? Kay
simply shook her head. Whatever had touched him was already
gone far below them. It watched. The creature remained motionless
amongst thick curtains of underwater waths, blending almost perfectly into
the shifting patterns of light and shadow. Large unblinking eyes
followed every movement the strange visitors made. They were loud, clumsy,
wrapped in strange skins that allowed them to breathe beneath
the water. He had never seen creatures like this before,
yet they continued swimming deeper into his world, closer closer.
Later that afternoon, while the others cataloged their discoveries, Kate
decided to swim near the shallows without the heavy diving gear.
The water felt warm against her skin for the first
time since arriving. She allowed herself to relax. Above her,
brilliant sunlight danced across the surface. Tiny fish scattered around her.
As she glided effortlessly through the lagoon. She smiled. For
a fleeting moment, the black lagoon felt beautiful again. She
never noticed the shadow rising beneath her. It emerged silently
from the darkness below. Massive, graceful, almost effortless in its movement,
The creature kept its distance. Only a few feet separated them. Yet,
and the entire world existed between the woman floating peacefully
above and the ancient being swimming beneath. He matched her
every movement. When she drifted left, he drifted left. When
she slowed, he slowed. His clawed hands reached upward, stopping
just short of the shimmering surface. His enormous eyes never
left her. There was no rage in them, no hunger,
only fascination. He had never seen a creature like this before.
Kay rolled onto her back, letting herself float beneath the
warm afternoon sun. Beneath her, the gill man floated as well,
separated by a little more than a thin sheet of water.
Two worlds, two species, neither fully understanding the other. And
then the voice called from the shore. Kay. She lifted
her head. I'm coming. With a few easy strokes, she
swam towards the beach. The creature remained where he was
watching until she disappeared from sight. Only then did he
sink once more into the green darkness. That evening, the
crew gathered around the dining table aboard the Rita. Conversations
had become noticeably quieter. Everyone sensed it now, the lagoon
felt occupied. David unfolded several sketches he'd made during the dive.
I know this is going to sound impossible. Mark raised
an eyebrow. We crossed that bridge days ago. David nodded,
I think something's following us underwater. Silence. Lucas spoke first,
the footprints. David looked at him, the destroyed excavation, the
missing fossils. Lucas slowly folded his arms. I don't think
we're looking for a fossil anymore. Nobody laughed, because no
one believed he was joking. Outside the sun disappeared behind
the cliffs. Darkness swallowed the lagoon. The lanterns aboard the
Rita flickered to life, casting long golden reflections across the water.
Far beyond their glow, something surfaced. For just a moment,
a ridged head broke through the water. A pair of pale,
reflective eyes studied the boat in complete silence. Then the
creature slipped beneath the surface. Once more, The water became
perfectly still, as thought nothing had ever been there but
the Black Lagoon, and revealed its first secret. The expedition
was no longer searching for a prehistoric creature. They had
already found him, and somewhere beneath the Rita, the last
survivor of a forgotten world, had begun watching them just
as closely as they were searching for him. The rain
arrived for that warning. In one moment, the Black Lagoon
lay motionless beneath the blanket of humid air. The next
thunder rolled across the cliffs, and the sky opened. Sheets
of rain hammered the surface of the lagoon until the
water seemed to boil. Visibility disappeared. The jungle vanished beneath
the canopy of gray. For the crew aboard the Rita,
the storm offered an opportunity. If we can map the
eastern shoreline before nightfall, Mark shouted over the rain, we
may finally find the rest of the fossil bed. David
wasn't convinced. The weather's turning too quickly, so are our supplies.
Mark looked towards the dark shoreline. It didn't come all
this way to leave empty handed, no one argued. Within minutes,
two small launchers were lowered into the churning water. David,
kay Lucas and several members of the crew pushed towards
the eastern bank, while the others remained aboard the Rita
to monitor the equipment. The jungle greeted them with suffocating
the heat, rainwater dripped from enormous leaves. Mud clung to
every boot. The deeper they ventured inland, the stranger. The
force became. Trees twisted into impossible shapes, Ancient roots coiled
across the ground like sleeping serpents. Towering ferns blocked the sunlight,
forcing the expedition to navigate through a perpetual twilight. Everything
smelled of wet earth and decay. Hours passed without finding
another fossil. Then one of the crew called out over here.
David hurried forward. At first he thought he'd found another skeleton. Instead,
he found bones, fresh ones, not fossilized. The tapier for
what remained of one. Its rib cage had been opened
with tremendous force. Deep claw marks scoured the surrounding trees.
The carcass had been dragged several yards before being abandoned.
Lucas knee beside the remains. This was in scavengers. David
stared silently at the mass of gouges carved into a
nearby trunk. Each slash reached nearly a foot in length.
Whatever had done this possessed strength beyond anything native to
the Amazon. The forest suddenly felt much smaller. They're heading back,
David said. No one objected. They never realized they were
being followed. High above the forest floor, hidden amongst tangled
roots and curtains of moss, two pale eyes watched them
move through the jungle. The creature flowed through the trees
with astonishing silence. Every steps careful, every movement delivery. The
strangers carried thunder in their hands, fire, noise, pain. Days
earlier they had entered his waters. Now they walked through
the edges of this world they did not understand, but
they refused to leave. The expedition reached the shoreline just
as dusk settled over the lagoon. Everyone climbed aboard the
Rita in exhausted silence. The storm had passed, an unnatural
calm followed in its wake. That night, Lucas doubled the watch.
Lanterns burned from every corner of the vessel. Rifles remained loaded.
No one slept well. Sometime after midnight a stream shattered
the silence. Who One of the deckhands stumbled backwards across
the bow, his lantern crashing against the wooden planks. What
is it? He could only point. The others rushed forward.
The storage craked near the rail had been ripped apart.
Heavy chains lay scattered across the deck. Something enormous had
climbed aboard again. David knelt beside the damage. Fresh water
dripped from the splintered wood. The creature couldn't have been
gone for more than a second. Lucas raised his rifle,
spread out. The crew moved carefully across the deck. Every
shadow seemed alive. Every creak of the old vessel sounded
like footsteps. And then the water exploded. The Gilman erupted
over the starboard rail with terrifying speed for the first time.
There could be no doubt. He stood nearly seven feet tall,
muscles rippled beneath emerald scales that shimmered with rain, water
and moonlight. Long thins framed sides of his head, rising
and falling with each powerful breath. His enormous black eyes
reflected the lantern light without a trace of fear. He
was magnificent, he was ancient, and he was furious. Before
or anyone could react, one massive arm swept across the deck,
hurling a sailor into a stack of diving tanks. Wood splintered,
metal crash. Garita lurched violently. Lucas fired. The shot echoed
across the lagoon. The bullet struck the creature's shoulder. The
Gilman staggered and then turned slowly. His eyes locked on
to Lucas. There was no confusion in them, only recognition.
He understood pain and danger, and the weapon. With a
deafening roar, he charged. Lucas barely managed to dive aside.
His enormous claws ripped through the wooden railing where he'd
been standing only a heartbeat earlier, the crew opened fire.
Gunshots erupted across the deck. The flashes illuminated the creature
in frozen moments. Scales glittering claws slashing through the air.
Water sprang from every movement, and then, as suddenly as
he appeared, he was gone. He vaulted over the rail
and vanished into the black water below. The shooting stomped,
Silence returned. No one moved. The only sound came from
the gentle waves rocking against the hull. David slowly lowered
his rifle. He could have killed us. Lucas looked to
the shatter railing he was trying to. David shook his
head no. His eyes drifted toward the dark lagoon. He
was warning us far below the rita hidden beneath forests
of ancient reeds. The gill Man drifted silently through the darkness.
Blood curled behind him in crimson ribbons. Before disappearing into
the black waters. Strangers had wounded him. His home echoed
with sounds that it never had known before. Fire thunder death.
The balance of the lagoon had been broken, and somewhere
deep within instincts older than mankind itself, the ancient guardian
reached a decision. The intruders would not leave willingly, so
they would be driven out, whatever the cost. The attack
on the Rita changed everything. No one spoke of fossils anymore.
The notebooks remained closed, cameras stayed packed away. Scientific debates
gave way to whispered conversations about ammunition, the escape routes,
and whether anyone could survive long enough to see the
river again. The lagoon had become a prison. Morning broke
beneath a heavy blanket of fog. The cliffs surrounding the
lagoon were little more than dark silhouettes, and the jungle
beyond had disappeared completely. It was as though world itself
had been erased, leaving only the Rita drifting through an
endless sea of wind. Captain Lucas stood at the wheel.
Relieve today, he said, firmly, No more searching. No one argued.
The engines rumbled to life. Crew members hauled as the
fallen trees that still blocked the narrow channel leading back
to the river. Axes bit into soaked wood, while ropes
strained under impossible tension. For a moment, the barrier began
to move. Hope returned, then something beneath the water struck
the hul The impact threw the men from their feet.
A second blow followed almost instantly. The Rida groaned as
its entire frame shuddered bloss Someone screamed before anyone could react,
With creature first from the water with the force of
an explosion. The Gilman landed on the deck in a
shower of black water. He looked different now. Blood still
stained the scales around his shoulder where Lucas's rifle had
found its mark. Fresh scars crossed his chest, but they
had done nothing to diminish his strength. If anything, pain
had made him more dangerous. The crew scattered, Lucas fired
shot missed. The Gilman seized a heavy coil of anchor
chain and hurled it across the deck, smashing lanterns and
sending splintered wood flying in every direction. Darkness swallowed half
the boat. Only a few trembling lanterns remained. The creature
disappeared into the shadows. For several long seconds, no one moved.
The silence was unbearable. Somewhere in the darkness, a slow,
wet breath, another, then a scream. One of the sailors
vanished into the darkness beyond the shattered crates. By the
time the others reached him, only a bloody mark remained.
The gilman had slipped back into the water without a sound.
Panic spread through the crew. Every ripple became a threat,
Every patch of darkness concealed claws waiting to strike. David
gripped his rifle tighter than he ever had before. We're
fighting him on his ground, he said, we'll never win.
Lucas looked towards the jungle, and then we stopped waiting
for him. We entered the forest before sunset. It was
a desperate gambol. If they couldn't force their way out
through the river, perhaps they could find another route over land.
The jungle answered with silence, not the comforting silence of nature,
for the oppressive stillness of a place where every living
thing had learned when to hide. The deeper they walked,
the stranger. The forest became twisted, vines brushed against their
faces like unseen hands. Towering trees blocked the fading light
until dusk arrived. Hours early. Beneath the canopy, something moved
between the trunks. Lucas spun nothing. Another crewman stopped. I
heard it. No one asked what they all had. Branches
cracked somewhere ahead, another cracked behind them, and then to
their left. The sounds circled them, never rushing, never drawing closer,
only reminding them that they were no longer the hunters.
David suddenly understood, he's hurting us. The realization came too late.
The Gillman exploded from the undergrowth. He hit the group
like a charging bull, scattering men in every direction. Rifles,
thunder muzzle flashes lit the forest, and brave, blinding bursts.
For a heartbeat, David saw the creature standing between the trees, towering, bleeding.
His jaw opened in a roar so deep it seemed
to shake the earth itself. Then darkness swallowed him again.
The jungle came alive, men shouting names that received no answer.
Gunfire echoed from somewhere unseen. The forests returned only screams.
By the time the survivor's regroup, two members of the
expedition were gone, no bodies, no trail, on in silence.
The Gilman hadn't simply attacked them, he had hunted them.
Nightfully fell. The survivors stumbled back towards the rita exhausted
beyond words. The boat looked like a wreck. Broken railings
leaned over black water. Windows had been shattered. The deck
was stained with dried blood, scattered with broken equipment. No
one had the strength to clean it. David leaned against
the railing and stared into the lagoon. He finally understood
what Professor Maya must have realized. The destroyed excavation, missing fossils,
the abandoned camp. None of it had been random. The
Gilman hadn't been protecting bones. He had been protecting a
men ring, the last evidence that his kind had ever existed.
If the skeleton had been taken, the world would have
come scientists, soldiers, hunters, and collectors. Soon, the Black Lagoon
would no longer belong to the ancient creatures that had
survived here since before humanity learned to walk upright. It
would belong to mankind. The Gilman wasn't fighting for dominance.
He was fighting extinction. David lowered his rifle for the
first time since entering the lagoon. He wondered if they
were the villains. Long after midnight, rain began to fall again,
soft at first and then steady. The drops washed blood
from the deck of the Urta carrying Crimson streams into
the dark water below. Within minutes, there was no trace
of the battle. The lagoon accepted everything back into itself,
the blood, the broken wood, the echoes of gunfire, as
though none of it had ever happened. Far beneath us surface,
in amongst ancient caverns, where sunlight and not reached in
countless agents, the Gilman drifted silently through the darkness. His
wounded shoulder ached, his powerful chest, rose, and fell with slow,
deliberate breaths. He had driven the stranger's back, but they
were still here, and instinct told him they would not stop.
Above him, rain tapped gently against the surface. The sound
was familiar and comforting. It had fallen on these waters
for millions of years. Empires would rise, civilizations would crumble,
Forests would grow and die, but the lagoon endure. Morning
came gray and silent. No one suggested searching for fossils.
No one spoke about scientific papers or museum exhibits. The
only conversation aboard the Rita concerned one question. Could they
leave without the creature following them? David wasn't sure. The
Gilman had attacked every attempt to escape but never once
had he pursued them beyond the boundaries of the lagoon.
Every assault had happened when they entered his water, disturbed
his home, or threatened something hidden beneath its surface. David
found himself staring towards the eastern cliffs. He was protecting something,
he said quietly. Lucas looked up from cleaning his rifle.
Then let's stop guessing what it is. No one answered.
An hour later, carrying only Lantern's rifles and enough ammunition
for one final encounter, the expedition left the rida behind
and walked towards the cliff, where no map showed a path.
If the Black Lagoon held its greatest secret, they intended
to find it. The forest grew darker with every step,
until the night became almost absolute. Moonlight could no longer
penetrate the dense canopy overhead. The air was suffocating, thick
with the smell of stagnant water and rotting vegetation. And
then the sound reached them. Water, not the gentle lapping
of the lagoon, a slow rhythmic current flowing through stone.
Lucas raised his lantern. There, hidden beneath a wall of vines,
was a narrow opening in the cliff side. Cold air
poured from the darkness beyond, carrying with it an earthy
scent that seemed impossibly old. The cave looked less like
an entrance and more like the open jaws of some
colossal beast. No one wanted to enter, but no one
suggested Turning back. One by one they disappeared into the darkness.
The cavern seemed endless, stone walls glissen and with moisture,
while enormous columns reached upward into blackness, disappearing beyond the
reach of their lanterns. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling,
each drop echoing through the chamber like the ticking of
a clock counting down towards something inevitable. The deeper they ventured,
the stranger the cave became ancient. Bones rested beneath shallow pools,
some belonging to deer, others to cayman. The few were
so large and weathered that none of the scientists dare
guess what they once had been. The cave had been
feeding for a very long time. David knelt beside. One
enormous skeleton wasn't human, It wasn't modern. Its rib cave
was enormous, its skull elongated, its limbs webbed. He stared
in disbelief, another and another. The cave wasn't the Gilman's
home graveyard. Generations of his kind had lived and died,
and within these walls all of that remained the fossils.
David whispered, this is what Maya found. Lucas looked around
the cavern. He wasn't protecting bones. David slowly shook his head.
He was protecting his family. The realization settled over the
group like a funeral shroud. For the first time since
arriving in the Amazon, they truly understood what they had invaded.
A scream shouted the silence kay David ran his lantern
beam danced wildly across the stone until it found her.
She stood near the edge of a vast underground pool,
backed against the rock wall. The Gilman stood between her
and the others. He did not attack. He simply watched them.
Water dripping from the fins along his head. His wounded
shoulder bled steadily, Crimson disappearing into the black pool at
his feet. For a long moment, neither side moved. It
felt less like a battle and more like a reckoning.
David lowered his rifle. We're leaving. His voice echoed through
the cavern. We'll go. The creature tilted his head as
though trying to understand. Slowly, David took one cautious step
toward k The Gilman answered with one step of his own.
Lucas raised his revolver. Don't David never had the chance
to finish. A nervous crewman fired the gunshot detonated inside
the cavern like thunder. The bullet struck the Gilman high
in his chest. The creature's roar shook dust from the ceiling.
Everything erupted. He charged with terrifying speed. Lantern shattered against stone.
Darkness flooded the cavern. Men fired blindly into the darkness
as the Gilman moved again amongst them with impossible agility.
A scream echoed somewhere to David's left and ended abruptly.
The underground pool churned violently. Someone vanished beneath the surface,
and the water turned black. David can no longer tell
with a creature, and and the darkness began only those
terrible eyes appearing and disappearing, always moving. Lucas emptied his revolver.
The final shot struck the Gilman's shoulders, spinning him towards
the bowl. K broke free and ran. David caught her
just as the creature lunged one final time for a heartbeat.
They stood face to face man and something far older.
The Gilman's breath had become ragged, blood poured from his wounds,
yet he still stood between them and the heart of
his home. He refused to surrender it. David slowly lowered
his rifle. He couldn't do it, He couldn't kill the
last survivor of an ancient world. Lucas made the choice
for him. The deafening crack of a rifle echoed through
the cavern. The bullet struck true. The Gilman staggered, his
claws scraping helplessly across the stone. For the first time,
the Guardian fell. He collapsed into the underground pool with
a tremendous splash that sent icy water across the cavern floor,
and then silence. Only widening ripples disturbed the black surface.
No one moved. Minutes seemed to pass, the water settled
once again. Here is it over, one of the crew whispered.
David stood at the pool. I don't know, no one
dared search the depths. Together, the survivors gathered k and
began the long journey back towards daylight. No one looked back.
The reader left the black Lagoon at sunrise. The cliffs
slowly disappeared behind curtains of mist as the river carried
the battered vessel back towards civilization. There was no celebration.
Too many voices had been lost to the jungle. Too
many questions remained unanswered. Two weeks later, newspapers would report
the expedition's findings with skepticism. The fossilized hand, the destroyed excavation,
the missing crew, the impossible stories of a creature that
should not exist. Most readers dismissed them as exaggeration borne
from fear and exhaustion. It was easier that way. David
Reid never published his complete journal. Some discoveries he believed
should remain undiscovered, some doors should never be opened. Years passed,
the Amazon continued to hide its secrets beneath miles of
untouched forest, and the lagoon faded into rumor. And then
one quiet morning, rain fell upon the lagoon, once again,
far beneath the surface, where sunlight dissolved into darkness. Something
rested amongst the ancient stones. A webbed hand twitched. Clouds
of silt drifted lazily upwards, slowly, painfully. Two pale eyes open.
Whether he was truly the last of his kind or
merely the last one humanity had seen. No one would
ever know. Because the Black Lagoon had survived long before
mankind learned to draw maps. Who would survived long after
those maps had faded to dust. Some places refused to
surrender their secrets, and some creatures refused to become legends.
And somewhere beneath waters so dark it reflected nothing at all,
an ancient predator closed his eyes once more, waiting for
the jungle to grow quiet, waiting for the world to forget,
waiting for the next boat adrift too far from the river.
Either kids, it's me, mister Creepasta, And before we get
started on the night's video, I'm gonna let you know
about Manta Sleep. So I do want to use the
word sponsored here because I think technically I'm sponsored, but
I'll tell you guys something about Manta Sleep. I actually
reached out to them because I was seeing other YouTubers,
specifically horror YouTubers talking about the Manta Sound sleep mask,
and I wanted to be able to talk about it
here on the channel. So what you're currently seeing on
your screen right here, this is the Manta Sound sleep mask.
For those of you guys that like listening to creepy
pasta stories, this is made specifically for you. It allows
for a sleep mask. It has soft bluetooth speakers that
don't hurt your ears like trying to keep aarpods or
you're like. And also they have a soft cup over
your eye that keeps your eyes from being pressed on
and damaged in your sleep. I have tried it, I
own it, I continue to use it, and it actually
has results. I couldn't think of a better way to
show you the results. So here's my Pokemon sleep status beforehand,
and here's my Pokemon sleep stats afterwards. I'm known for
not getting very good sleep and constantly having nightmares. As
you can see on my original one, I don't sleep
very well. Also, you see that large dip there, that's
where my phone fall off my bed, so that that's
not actually accurate. I slept more than likely significantly less
than that. I can actually listen to other YouTubers I
can listen to stories, I can listen to music whenever
I fall asleep. And those eye covers are so nice because,
unlike a regular sleep mask that puts pressure on your eyes,
you can't really open your eyes. You can't still open
your eyes with this on, which is weird, but it's
just total darkness, which helps me stay asleep. So if
you're interested, the link is down there. Click on the
link from mant to sleep mask and you can use
code creepypasta to take ten percent of