He turns the key and the engine dies. I'm the first one again, he thinks. The man grabs his steel coffee mug, steps out of the green ute and makes his way towards the orange bulldozer. Kangaroos hop away, startled. The worker gazes across the wide and bare glade behind him and the thick clumps of shrub before him. A light breeze rustles through the leaves and yellow blooms of nearby wattle bushes. The man takes a sip of his coffee. He belches as his steamy urine hits the stem of a white gum. A few moments later the machine rattles towards the trees. As it hits the bark, dusts of pollen unite with the earth. And the ground opens. 

 

It's all over Facebook. Radio and TV stations blare the news across the ethers, choppers crisscross the sky. A silver coffee mug was all that was found. No trace of the man. And no trace of the bulldozer either. No sign that the machine was stolen or that the worker may had gone home due to ill health. The site appears as it would on a Monday morning; machines waiting to be ploughed through the native bush to make way for the planned dual lane highway. On the southern end of the project, some 30 miles away, the same scenario. A missing worker and a missing excavator. A sole grey coffee cup, left behind in the undergrowth. He was the first to be on site too, ready for a day of clearing. 

 

The day draws to an end. The abandoned work sites, now framed by blue and white police ribbon, fall into silent darkness. The earth at North Site crumbles and bulldozers, shredders and graders disappear. The sound of crushing metal is accompanied by loud champing and a roaring belch. The next morning the police are stunned. Onlookers cause a traffic jam on the nearby road. The earthmoving company has advised a stay home order for its workforce. At South Site, the machinery is untouched. A raven 

sits on the mirror of one of the loaders, directing its moans to the investigators as they stand and watch, a safe distance away from the ripped open woodland. Homes across the country scramble to understand what happened. Crying families beg for any possible sightings of the missing men.

Two special force inspectors set up camp at South Site, ready with infrared illuminators and cameras. Their wives had begged them to stay home. Social Media has gone into turmoil, bearing images of monsters and zombies that may be responsible. Earlier on, the men had sought permission to camp on the land of a nearby resident who had refused to leave his property behind for the Berth Road Project. The farmer just laughed and slammed the door shut. The day slowly descends into darkness. One man shudders as a dark creature jumps off a tree and jostles through the shrub. Possum, the other one mumbles and takes a sip of coffee from his shiny mug. As urgent TV commercials fill the living room of the nearby country house, yells of help vanish unheard. 

"Cherv. Gusano. Wurm. Ver de terre. Chong." Newsreaders around the world struggle to keep a straight face as they utter the word to the image that appears on the screen. Vermis megascolides australis has the scientists mesmerised, the society scared. Over and over again the recording is shown. One of the cameras captured it all. The silent vanishing of machinery into a gaping eyeless face. The men sucked into the black, their features wild in paralysed horror. Something catapulted into the air later was identified as a silver travel mug. As Vermis is vowed revenge, in a remote part of the Amazon the ground opens.