• Chapter 5 - The Harkencrack

    Perhaps it was only for effect, but the room was very, very dark. Bree had followed Brittirb’s instructions (or she did as well as she could remember them) and her heart was pounding. With the lights out, everything seemed much creepier. On the other hand, it was only an exhibit and it was not like it could go anywhere.

    The “third door” that Bree had found - as per Brittirb’s directions - was small. It was even a bit smaller than the door that led her into the museum in the first place. In fact, it was more of a large hole in the wall than an actual door and Bree had to crawl through on her hands and knees to go through. Still, she made it through in the end and found herself almost as excited as she was nervous. Whatever this exhibit was, it seemed to be something good.

    At the back of the room, Bree noticed a dimly lit area. She wandered to it and found two pillars, a plaque, and a large object that she could not quite make out. It was warmer as well and Bree found herself wishing that there was also a fan she could use. She turned her attention to the plaque first.

    “The Harkencrack,” the plaque read, “Was a mystical creature that was previously thought to exist only in legend. While most respected scientists had previously believed it to be only a fairy tale creature, recent research uncovered not only the monster’s body but what is believed to be parts of an epic detailing the fall of the creature many years prior (see pillars to the left and right).”

    Bree looked carefully at the pillar to her left and she found, after some searching, that sure enough there were words carved into it. She looked carefully and this was what she read:

    The gates did creak or so they say
    Like an old dame’s joint
    And the rust they say is dried-blood red
    Dulling the spike’s point

    With this ominous sign we know
    Most venture on with fear
    And fewer did dare venture past
    Since the Harkencrack did appear

    A giant it , or so they say
    With fangs as long as steel
    It crept about shadowlike
    Just its hot breath one could feel

    Its eyes, they glowed like burning coals
    Its scream would split the sky
    When it killed enough or not at all
    It gave its horrid cry

    It let none live or so they say
    But everyone did fail
    To tell how so much could be known
    If no one lived to tell the tale

    But the cry was heard, that much is known
    And the Harkencrack was seen
    Once a month in silhouette
    Bathed in the moon’s fine sheen

    For many years the tales were told
    Up and front and back
    And mothers told their children to
    “Beware the Harkencrack!”

    But one fine day (around the noon)
    A boy no more than twelve
    Found the gates of the monster’s lair
    And past them he did delve

    His mother searched and called in vain
    But it was not ‘til two o’clock
    That the boy came running home
    In between he would not stop

    “He has seen the beast!” his mother wailed
    “It’s sprung the first attack!”
    And the people gasped in horror
    And decided to strike back


    Unfortunately Bree had not had quite enough schooling yet to understand all of what she read, but still she was able to understand the general idea. She was eager to find out exactly what happened and continued reading on the next pillar, ignoring the puffs of hot air she felt. The second pillar read:

    They armed themselves with forks and knives
    And donned their boots and hats
    For protection they took all their dogs
    For companionship, their cats

    At the monster’s gate the group did meet
    Their number seven (for luck)
    An even number to help each one
    An extra in case one was stuck

    The Leader was a fine man
    Strong and brave and true
    The Bootmaker was
    In leather skilled
    And could fix most any shoe

    The Philosopher was a thinking man
    Who pondered the entire day
    The Scientist thought plenty too
    But in a much different way

    The Carpenter could build with wood
    And could saw a tree in two
    The Artist painted and sculpted things
    To say “I love you”

    The final member knew no trade
    Why he was there no one was sure
    Yet he told the tale of the Harkencrack
    As if he were there before

    The Leader spoke loud and clear
    “Now the time has come!
    The Harkencrack must be slain!
    Let us advance as one!”

    And so the gates were wrenched apart
    And so they entered the monster’s lair
    The grounds crunched from leaves and bones
    And damp was in the air

    The Scientist scrawled his notes
    And said “Oh dear me now!”
    At the rate we’re going
    How will we beat it, how?

    The Philosopher turned up his nose
    And said with a little smile
    “When one sets their mind on something
    It takes but just a little while.”

    The Leader called for quiet
    As they strode on down the path
    But the road could not make up its mind
    And soon it split in half


    “Oh no,” cried Bree. “It ends there? I wish there was a little more! And I wish that hot air would stop blowing, it’s very annoying!”

    She turned to find the source of the air, deciding that if she could not finish the poem, she could at least stop the hot air from blowing and have only one annoyance rather than two. Strangely, it seemed to be coming from the large object behind the pillars and plaque. Bree squinted to make out what it was. Whatever it was, it seemed to be dark and had wings. Not bird wings though, wings like a bat. She slowly reached out and touched the thing. It was a little scaly and warm. There was something else that she noticed when she touched it, but it took her several seconds to realize what it was exactly. Then, it came to her. It was breathing!

    Bree screamed and pulled her hand back and the Harkencrack (for that was what it was), gave a screech. It leaned forward until it was very close to Bree’s face. She screamed again and it pulled back very quickly. With one more cry, it spread its wings and flew up through the ceiling.

    In an instant, Bree slid back through the hole and went running back to the painting hall, shouting “Brittirb! MacArthur! Tarren! Someone!

    There was no one in the painting hall, so she continued to run through the museum, calling for anyone. It was not until she found the hall of Egyptian artifacts however, that she found help. Brittirb was there, cleaning various pieces of jewelry and coins. There was also a young man in a guard’s uniform, whom Brittirb was in casual conversation with.

    “And so I told him, ‘That’s not yours, so take it out of your mouth!’” said Brittirb, carefully wiping a necklace with some sort of cleaner. “And he just looked at me, spat Mr. Merkle right out, and wandered away. Mr. Merkle spent the rest of the day screaming and threatening to have his exhibit removed from the museum.”

    The man in the guard uniform laughed. “Well, what did the idiot expect would happen? He was the one who went into the Arctic hall and started to poke the polar bear on the nose.”

    “Sometimes I wonder,” sighed Brittirb. She happened to glance behind her and noticed Bree running towards them. “Oh there you are Bree! Did you see the Harkencrack exhibit? And have you met Bartholomew yet? He’s one of the museum guards. Why Bree, what’s wrong?”

    Bree had a bit of trouble talking, as she had just spent several minutes running and shouting at the top of her voice. But finally, she got most of her breath back and was able to gasp out “The Harkencrack! It escaped!”

    “The Harkencrack escaped?” asked Bartholomew, frowning. “How can it escape? It was defeated years ago.”

    “But it did!” insisted Bree. “It gave a cry and then it flew through the ceiling. Go look in the room if you don’t believe me!”

    “This will only take a minute,” sighed Brittirb and she leapt into a nearby mirror and ran off, presumably to go check the Harkencrack’s room.

    Bree and Bartholomew waited in silence for Brittirb to return. Neither spoke because no one knew what to say. Bree thought that perhaps it was normal for the exhibits to wander off, but from the reaction of the others, this seemed much less likely.

    Finally, Brittirb leapt back from the mirror. She looked very confused and a bit nervous.

    “Well?” asked Bartholomew.

    “She’s right,” said Brittirb. “The Harkencrack’s gone. Just that though. The epic and everything else is still there.”

    “I told you,” said Bree softly.

    “And…” added Brittirb looking at the floor.

    “And what?” asked Bartholomew, now looking very nervous himself.

    “And Mr. Merkle gave me a message as I was returning,” finished Brittirb. “He wants to see us as soon as possible.”