Past Your Primeval
by Dustin Grovemiller

Godzilla, King of the Monsters, did his best to squint his giant eyes against the bright afternoon sun that blanketed Monster Island. The salty breeze of the pacific hardly registered to him as he lumbered down the rocky hills to the shore. It was just another afternoon – quiet, peaceful, maybe even a little lonesome. The island’s population had severely declined in recent years for a number of reasons, and it had been days since he’d seen another large creature. The only sign of terrestrial life were freshly uprooted trees down in a nearby valley. That was the work of the Mole People. They’d probably never leave Monster Island, even if he wanted them to. The underground folk were nothing but a nuisance, and their tunneling did nothing but weaken the ground beneath Godzilla’s enormous legs and uproot the island’s massive, ancient trees.
 
Reaching the coastline, he trundled his form up to the knoll where the pterodactyls left his mail. One piece was waiting for him. Just one? Didn’t people realize what was happening this week?
 
It was from Kong. When was the last time he’d heard from Kong? It’d been ages since he’d talked to the ape, not that he’d made the effort to go visit neighboring Skull Island any time recently. Ripping the note open, Godzilla made an effort to read Kong’s giant, yet surprisingly tight, scribbles.
 
Old buddy,
 
I hope you have a wonderful 50th this week – it’ll be nice to have someone besides ol’ Kong on the wrong side of middle age. I wish I could get back to see you, but I’m of course tied up working on this new project with Peter. Between that and Fay’s passing, things are a little bad for me to get away right now. Although I guess I’m happy to be so busy, to keep my mind off of things. Anything new on the horizon for you? I’d still like to get in one good flick with both of us sometime soon. I’ll let you know when I’m back on Skull, and we’ll get together and light up a few natives.
 
All my best,
“King” Kong
 
It was only the second note he’d gotten, the first being a cheap card from that little prick Jet Jaguar with just “Happy Birthday Gojira!” written inside of it. That little punk had started the downward slide of the giant lizard’s career back when they’d fought Megalon… he at least could’ve sent candy or something. Godzilla quietly hoped someone would turn him into trolley car.
 
Where had all his old friends gone? Mothra was the only one he knew was dead. Kong was working down in Auckland, and he didn’t have a clue where Rodan was. Anguirus, the giant tortoise-like creature covered with spikes, was probably around the island somewhere, but it had been months since they’d crossed paths. A better question might have been where were any of his numerous “enemies”? What had happened to Biollante? Gigan? He presumed that the three-headed King Ghidorah was asleep in the ocean somewhere… not that they’d have much to say to each other anyhow.
 
Somewhere behind him, another tree toppled over. The King of the Monsters wheeled as fast as he could, but saw nothing but the earth shifting in a trail leading back into the island’s interior. He half-heartedly let loose a gout of radiation breath in the direction of the movement, but it just set the newly-fallen tree alight. Damn Mole People.
 
Godzilla turned and began the long, laborious journey back up to his mountain home. He was starting to wish he’d kept his winter home back in the Sea of Japan. It was so hard to sleep for long periods of time here, even deep under a mountain. It was peaceful, but it was a very noisy peaceful. There was so much going on around him, the birds, the other animals on the island all made their presence felt, but none dared approach him. He missed the quiet of the ocean floor, buried under rock where only the stupid meddling of mankind would bother him.
 
He began to wonder if time had left him behind. It had been several years since he’d gotten into a good scrap with anyone. Now it seemed that hardly anyone remembered he was around. He wondered why he hadn’t even heard from Minya… maybe that’s what hurt the most. He thought he’d raised his offspring better than that. Then again, things hadn’t been right between them since Minya had tried to take up the family business and done such a poor job. One and done. At least that Broderick guy had gone on to other things. All Minya had done was ruin his own career and tarnish the family legacy.
 
Moving higher up, thunderous lizard’s foot came down on the mountain’s surface and suddenly sunk down beneath unsupported soil. Caught off balance, he toppled backwards and rolled a distance back down the hill, coming to rest against a boulder. Staring up into the sky, he decided that the extermination of the Mole folk might be worth his time after all. But had that become his calling? Godzilla, King of the Exterminators?
 
His body shuddered in a sudden rage. He opened his mouth and let fly with a tremendous, terrible roar. A roar filled with sadness and pain. He lashed out with his tail, crashing through vegetation as the air was filled with his bitterness. His fiftieth birthday… and not one damn visitor.
 
After a minute, the lizard quieted and hung his head. He turned to look out at the deep blue expanse of the Pacific. Little flecks of white capped the breakers around the surrounding reef. It looked inviting. He thought again of the cool peace of the sea floor. Was it time? Time to make a final retreat into the cold, dark cocoon of the ocean?
 
He stood and stared out at the ocean, not moving. The sun wheeled in the sky, and eventually set. Still the King of all Monsters stood on his mountain, looking out. Then, in the deep glow of moonlight, he began his slow, ponderous lumber again.