By: Yiling Sun

Life thrived in the forest, with all kinds of animals playing and eating. There were predators and prey of all sizes running about the tall brown tree trunks. It was quite the place to live in peace; nobody disturbed you–unless you were prey.

Then there was the kangaroo rat; it was tiny. It peeped out of a hole with its family looking around behind it. There were only three of them at first, crawling out of that small, dark tunnel. They surveyed their surroundings, watching birds soar between the trees, calling to their mates. The rat closest to the tunnel ducked back into the hole, and came right back out, a river of rats flowing out behind it.

The kangaroo rats scuttled along the ground, careful, for they knew they were a popular dish for predators. Monkeys were swinging through the trees, and when they saw the swarm of kangaroo rats, they slipped a little on their vines in surprise. Stampedes of rats like this weren’t common. When they do appear, once every few years to search for more supply of food, they bring much food back. Their food stock was almost empty, and it was mating season, too. Hungry mouths were waiting to be fed.

Usually, most rats came back with their mouths stuffed with juicy nuts, but tonight was different. It was the night of the Dunes, the night that could potentially destroy all life in the forest, but only if the rats disturb the Dunes.

Sloths hanging on low branches watched the rats swarm around the trees, wondering how they could walk so fast so easily. Deer munched on grass, taking no notice of the small rats. Squirrels wished luck to their rat friends: they would need it.

As the rats slowly made their way deeper into the forest, the sun began to set, the sky got increasingly dark. Soon, the forest was a pitch-dark block of trees. The moon gave no light, and the stars refused to blink. Dragonflies were usually active here; tonight, they weren’t.

This is where the difficult part comes: finding food. It was quite dark, and the Whistle would start soon. The rats needed to get back with a large supply of nutrients before it begins.

They began searching, pressing their noses to the ground, sniffing, trying to pick up any nuts or berries. There was more food deeper into the forest, but it was far more dangerous there. They began picking up some nuts and berries; they weren’t fresh, but there weren’t any other options.

Deeper into the forest the rats went, scavenging. The forest merged into a huge patch of shadow. Only the outer rim of the moon glowed in the sky, leaving the middle a pitch dark black-hole looking thing. It was the Bay, floating above the forest. The Whistle would start soon.

The rats paid no attention to the moon. They were focused on food, sniffing the air and the ground, feeling the items on the soil one by one to see if it was edible. Smooth nuts and berries were best, especially when juicy. Most of the items weren’t food, instead they were sticks, rocks, and bones.

And then the moon glowed bright, brighter than the sun. It seemed to spark with white fire, spinning in circles in the now illuminated sky. The rats gazed up at the Bay up above, freezing in place.

The Whistle had begun, and the rats were definitely in the way. The ring was shining on them, they would get buried alive. One by one, they began turning around and fleeing from the light of the moon, pelting towards the edge of the forest, their mouths carrying little food. Their paws barely skimmed the ground as they flew across the ground. The light was still shining on them, making their fur look like it was made of pure gold.

The Bay was getting stronger; they wouldn’t make it.

A kangaroo rat yelped as it floated into the sky towards the Bay, followed by hundreds more high-pitched screams. The screams turned into low howls of pure terror, every single rat being sucked in by the Bay.

They floated higher and higher into the sky, towards the bright, glowing rim of the moon.

A single rat had latched its claws onto some tree bark, trying to pull its plump body onto the branch. It pulled and pulled, slowly getting closer to the safety behind the tree trunk. The rat hugged the tree with all fours and slowly inched onto the branch behind the tree, where the Bay couldn’t spot it. It drew in big gulps of air, letting the food in its mouth fall out. It watched as its friends and family disappeared into the dark center of the Bay. It was now alone; the very last kangaroo rat in the rainforest.

It was safe, for now, behind the huge tree. It closed its small eyes as Dunes began walking around, scouting the area. The Dunes’ movements were silent, and their dark slippery scales blended perfectly into the shadows. Their ears pricked, listening. Their tongues twitched, tasting the air for any signs of more kangaroo rats, for they had just seen a few hundred of them disappear through the Bay.

The last rat peeked out of the trunk to see if the Bay was gone yet. That was the hard way to find out that the Dunes were out, and the Bay was still spinning in the sky.

A pair of sharp yellow eyes snapped in the rat’s direction. There were a few hisses as the eyes narrowed. The rat immediately huddled into a ball behind the tree, trying to calm down his breath. But it was far too late.

Sharp fangs clamped around the rat’s body. The rat squealed as he was flung into the air towards the Bay. As it floated closer and closer to the center of the Bay, its desperate squeals turned into wretched howls. As it entered the Bay, howling loudly and miserably, its vision darkened, and it felt like its head was being torn from the rest of it. The last thing it ever saw was a snarling black mamba.

Every single skull of the rats fell six feet down, one hole per skull, on another dimension, Earth, specifically in Hohhot, China. The dry, empty skulls were scattered everywhere; their holes were twenty-one times larger than them. The holes were then filled up with sand after the skulls had all fallen in place. The sand kept falling onto the hole after it was completely filled, creating sand dunes.

Humans discovered that this area of sand could make noise when it was moved in different ways. It was named Whistling Dune Bay. There were a hundred different noises, including a few which caused the ground to vibrate. Those sounds were the kangaroo rat spirits screaming to be freed from their grave.

Later, a single kangaroo rat skull fell from the sky, landing at the tip of a dune, howling.

Image Credit by Ron Lach