Hey, everyone!
This is a story that I came up with as a spur of the moment thing, after re-watching King Kong. I hope that you enjoy it.

x-x-x

1923
PERU JUNGLE

The man ran as fast as he could.

The jungle was unusually thick; vines coated the ground and the trees grew large. It was unusual; the trees did not grow in clumps, instead being spaced far apart like something in the African savanna, and yet the light scrub and bushes were so tightly packed that it could be nigh on impossible to move.

The man’s thoughts were interrupted when a thin branch smacked him in the face. Blood trickled down his cheek and he fell to the floor.

He was short and had a medium build. A thick moustache grew on his face. His clothes were khaki gear, minus the hat.

Clutching his face, the man stood up again. He wasn’t scared of anything following him, but of what had decimated the first group exploring the jungle. The man resumed running, heading up an embankment as fast as his short legs could carry him.
‘Yes... I’m here.’

He smiled and almost collapsed with relief when he reached the top of the embankment. There was an old, paved track weaving across the hillside. It led out of that area of the jungle, and straight to the expedition’s camp.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, the man surveyed the trees. It was almost pitch-black, save for the bright moonlight shining in from overhead. He then looked out over the massive plain behind him.
The plain was dotted with trees and deep crevasses, and had a lake in the centre. It looked like a crater dipping into the earth, even from the man’s low position. The cliff walls that went around the entire length of the plain went down almost a hundred feet, and there were occasional spots that were nothing more than a steep hill.

His breathing now normal, the man began walking up the path, towards the rim.
It was then that he heard the roar.
The man froze and his heart started pounding violently. It sounded like a monster from the depths of time. The roar deepened in pitch and rose, and even at a distance it was ear shattering. Finally, it stopped.

Slowly, the man peered out across the plain again.

From a distance, he could make out a line of trees start shaking and quivering, as if something of great size was moving through. A sound of cracking and snapping echoed across the plain. With a sickening feeling of dread, the man realised what the trees were.

The first group.

Legs shaking, heart pounding, the man scrambled to his feet and ran off, muttering in terror.

x-x-x

Walton looked over the remains of the campsite.

One tent was gone. Its occupants still remained on the ground, but they were dead. One had been shredded across the back and had been partially eaten. The other... well, not much was left of him. The campfire had been smothered in dirt. It still smouldered, but it had been out for so long that it couldn’t be relit.

Earth had been tossed up all around the site. Great ridges were dug into the earth and traces of blood and supplies lay scattered. The night created an eerie, menacing sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. He turned and looked at the other three; Gerald, Braun and Farmer.

‘Anything?’ asked Walton.
‘No,’ said Gerald. ‘Apart from that luckless bastard there, there are no bodies. Just blood and some other unpleasant things.’

Walton stood up. The jungle had gone quiet, which was unusual, because-

A roar blasted across the campsite. The four men froze and took hold of their rifles, slung over their shoulders. There was absolute quiet; nothing moved, nothing made a sound.

Walton looked over the trees with unease. His heart was pounding so hard that it was making his chest hurt. He slowly took off his cap and put it on the ground, wiping his forehead. Even though it was cold, he was sweating.
And then, the entire ground shook, accompanied by a loud boom, like a footstep. Braun was thrown off his feet and the rest followed suit, throwing themselves to the ground. The ground shook again and there was a growling, hissing noise. It faded away, and the shaking became smaller.

‘Let’s get the hell out of here,’ said Gerald, standing up. He cocked his rifle and held it ready.
Suddenly, the sounds of the shaking stopped. The other three men stood. Walton brought his rifle to the ready.

And then, the shaking resumed.

Except now, it was coming fast, and getting louder. Something was heading towards them.

‘Gerald, you IDIOT! RUN’ screamed Farmer. The four men ran off into the trees, terrified. The roar sounded again, but it was now incredibly loud, literally shaking the men.
Walton jumped over a fallen log and dashed madly through the scrub. He could barely see – only the moon gave any illumination. Without warning there was a massive crack and the sound of a tree being knocked over; Walton’s mind raced, trying to think of what could have knocked over a tree as large as the ones there. Gerald was screaming out something and then a rifle went off, another following shortly after. And then, mercifully, the stomping and shaking slowed down. The four men continued running, though, eventually reaching the embankment that led to the rim of the crater. Farmer turned to Walton as they slowed to a jog.

‘Tell you what... let’s leave the bodies down there.’
‘What?’ choked Gerald. The four finally stopped and collapsed to the ground. Farmer continued speaking.
‘Listen, there were only three bodies down there. If something is able to tear its way through seven of our teammates, armed with rifles and Thompson machine guns...’
‘I agree,’ said Walton, ‘but there weren’t enough bodies down there. The others could still be alive. We’re going to wait on the rim for a few days and, if they don’t come back, we go back down and search.’
‘I agree.’
‘Me too,’ said Braun. Farmer slicked his hair back.
‘Okay. It’s just... I don’t want anybody else or myself to die.’

Walton stood up, despite his legs shaking.

‘Back to the camp. Let’s hope that that thing doesn’t follow us again.’