The Myth Chaser
The sun was settling over Eleuthera, shining light through the research center’s windows. I leaned over my desk, studying the strange carvings on a rock from a dig site. My curls had escaped their bun and covered my face as I traced the markings with my fingers. These symbols had haunted me since childhood. The Chickcharnie of the jungle, a birdlike creature from Bahamian & Nigerian myth, had always fascinated me. Just then, my phone buzzed. My research partner, Sarai’s name popped up on the screen.
“Did you find anything Mystery?” she asked, while her voice cracked through the speaker.
“The same symbols from the Bahamian artifacts are in the Nigerian relics. It’s all connected." I replied.
Before she could respond, one of my colleagues, Dr. Santee Yang walked into the room. He was tall, with a wiry frame, his thinning white hair slicked back and his pale blue eyes sharp behind rectangular glasses. Despite his age he carried himself with authority of a man who had dominated his field for decades.
“Mystery," he began, in his sharp and stern voice. “Your work is escalating into a fantasy. My advice to you is to STOP chasing myths and focus on real science.”
I stood there with my hands shaking but my voice steady. “This is real science; Sarai and I are going to Nigeria tomorrow. I will prove it!”
Dr. Yang’s eyes narrowed with a smirk on his face. “You're risking your reputation, and if you fail that’ll be on you.” He left immediately.
The next day, Sarai and I landed in Balyesla Nigeria, stepping off the plane into a world that felt both foreign and familiar. The heat was intense, wrapping around us like a heavy blanket. My grandmother stood waiting for us; her bright Ankara dress vibrant against the muted tones of the bustling airport.
Beside her was BerRookie, the local tour guide, a strong man with a wide smile and a weathered hat that seemed as much a part of him as his sun darkened skin. "Ah you're ready for the jungle, eh?" he teased, his accent thick but melodious.
My mind was bursting with ideas and information that my grandmother filled me with on the way to the jungle. The jungle was nothing like I had imagined. Thick vines hung from the trees, and the air was humid and heavy. After hours of walking, we came across a cave hidden behind a waterfall. The entrance was narrow, barely visible, but inside the walls were lined with symbols. Some of the very same symbols I had in Eleuthera. Tiny, precise carvings no larger than a coin, depicted intricate patterns of spirals, interlocking triangles, and birdlike shapes. My heart raced with excitement as we moved further into the cave, our flashlights flickering in the darkness.
At the back we had found everything we had been looking for. Ancient boxes filled with scrolls and carvings describing the chichcharnie. Before I could fully process this, we heard footsteps echoing. Sarai and I turned in time to see a group of men blocking the entrance, their faces shadowed. At the front stood Dr. Yang.
I felt my blood run cold. “You weren’t supposed to come here.” he said, his voice eerily calm.
"You knew?" I stared at him, disbelief tightening my chest.
"This research should remain buried," he replied, his words laced with both authority and menace.
Sarai grabbed my arm. “RUN”
We fled through the jungle with the evidence, our breaths ragged and feet pounding against the damp grounds. Yang's men gave chase, but we managed to escape.
As we returned to the research center, we presented our findings to our colleagues.
But Yang was not done. He barged into the lab; his suit immaculate despite the chaos he had caused. "You think that anyone will believe this. You are risking everything for a myth" he said, his voice low and threatening.
"The evidence speaks for itself" I replied boldly with confidence.
Yang's facade of confidence faltered as the room erupted in debate.