by Michael Cole
What kind of place doesn’t have garbage cans around? She rushed to the front doors to the aquarium and peered through the glass. There were restrooms just a little way away, but the entrance was locked. Looking inside, she saw a security officer walking across the lobby. She tapped on the glass, gently enough not to scratch it. He looked toward her, recognized her fervent mannerisms, and quickly met her. He opened the door a crack.
“Is everything alright, ma’am?” he asked.
“I know you guys are closed, but can you please let my husband use the restroom? He isn’t feeling well, and trust me, he won’t make it to the hotel.” The security guard looked to the husband, and immediately saw that he was on the verge of vomiting. The policy was ‘no unauthorized persons in the aquarium after hours’, but his natural compassion took over.
“Yeah, come on in,” he said, immediately hoping the guy would not lose it on the freshly cleaned floors. He held the door open wide for them.
“Oh, thank you,” the wife said. She quickly turned toward her husband, who didn’t hesitate to enter. As soon as he was past the doors, he was running to the men’s room. The wife entered after him and turned toward Eric. “Come on, hon! I want you to wait in here.” Eric dragged his feet along, as if still expressing his disappointment about the shark, and entered. The security guard shut the door behind them and followed the wife toward the restroom.
“Does he need medical assistance?” he asked her.
“No,” she said. “Just a bad dinner. I’ll check on him if that’s alright?”
“Yeah,” the guard said. He remembered he still needed to lock the back entrance. He thought of putting it off, but didn’t want to risk people strolling in through the unlocked doors. It always resulted in a hassle getting them to leave. “Just stay with him, and I’ll be back shortly. I just need to take care of a couple of things real quick,” he said.
“Okay, thank you,” the wife said. The security guard walked off, disappearing into another hallway. The wife looked at Eric as she walked toward the bathroom. “Just wait in here, hon.” She disappeared behind the door, leaving Eric waiting alone in the lobby.
He could hear his father’s retches even from where he stood. Getting his mind off the matter, he strolled around the lobby while eyeballing many of the displays. He looked at the center glass tank, shaped like a large tunnel that traveled from the floor to the ceiling. Inside, fish of many different shapes and sizes swam about. With the lobby lights turned off, their colors didn’t stand out as much. While he thought they were cool, they weren’t what he was hoping to see. He walked past it to the nearby wall. He noticed a stairwell door with a sign posted nearby: Great White Exhibit, with an arrow pointing downward toward the basement level. A piece of paper was taped to the center of the door, reading CLOSED in bold letters.
The seeds of temptation were planted. Eric figured his dad would be stuck in the bathroom for a while, and the security guard seemed like he was busy. All he wanted was a peek at the shark.
He twisted the handle. It was unlocked, and it opened into a dark stairway. Eric looked down, seeing a few lights and nobody in sight. He carefully made his way down until he reached the basement. It immediately led to a tunnel, illuminated by neon lights, intended to represent creatures from the ocean’s deep. Knowing he only had limited time, he made his way through, stopping just long enough to make sure he wouldn’t be caught. Arrows with a shark illustrated on the stem confirmed he was going the right way.
The tunnel led him into a large room. The only light in the room came from the huge plate of glass on the wall, which looked out into the pen. He shuddered with excitement, coupled with the uneasy feeling in his stomach for trespassing. However, the thrill he was experiencing felt worth it, and even more so after he peered into the glass. There was just enough light coming in from over the pen to illuminate the basic shape of the shark. He could see it nearly in the center, off to the side. Oddly, it seemed just to sit at the bottom.
Eric felt nervous. From the books he had read, he learned that sharks needed to constantly swim in order to stay alive. Here the shark was seemingly motionless. Is it dead? Is that why the park is closed? He didn’t hesitate to tap on the glass, hoping to get its attention.
It worked. The shape lifted off the floor, curious to the sound that had echoed through its entrapment. It moved in a slow, swerving line toward the source. Eric pulled his iPhone out, intending to snap a couple of pictures before exiting. The creature turned and swam across the glass. Its huge body was barely in full view of the glass that was only a few feet longer. As it passed, Eric felt something was odd about it. It was dark, almost a silhouette, but he though he saw something odd protruding from the head. He looked at the wall, just outside the glass. There was a panel, barely ajar. He opened it completely and used his phone to shine lights on several breaker switches. He looked at the listing, finding one for overhead pen lights.
Oh man, they’ll kill me for this, he thought. He justified it in his mind, thinking he’d only have the lights on for a moment before turning them right off. He tapped on the glass again, drawing the creature near. He waited until the shape was up to the glass, then he flipped the switch. The lights came on and he quickly snapped several photos, before stopping and looking at the creature. It was no great white.
The hybrid saw the potential meal, and moved in, only to be stopped by a strange invisible barrier. The glass shook, and a small crack started to form where the nose had struck. Eric jumped back. His heart pounded in his chest, and his body shook with fright. Only for a moment was he mesmerized by the shark’s red color, rigid exoskeleton, antennae, and other bizarre features. Then that fascination turned to fear when he realized the huge shark intended to eat him, and could easily break through the glass. The shark grew frustrated and began to swim around in a crazed frenzy. Eric hit the switch, turning off the pen lights, and ran for the tunnel.
He had just reached the stairwell when Security raced down. Flashlights shined upon him, held by two guards, one of which was the one from the lobby.
“Hey! What are you doing down here?” Eric didn’t answer, and looked back. The radio blared.
“It’s moving rapidly, but I think it’s slowing down. I don’t know how many times it hit the glass. You guys at the viewing center?”
“Yeah, it’s some kid,” one guard replied on his radio.
“I’m sorry,” Eric babbled.
“Come on,” the guard said, motioning for him to go upstairs. Eric followed them. As he did, he pulled his phone out, and brought up his Facebook account. Making a new post, he uploaded the photos, along with the text: New shark at Felt’s Paradise.
With a click of the button, the post was complete.
CHAPTER
21
Forster barely noticed the living room light switch off after it timed out. Laying along her couch, her eyes were fixed on the laptop screen while she read through various articles from three years ago. She read reports on the supposed creature attack that took place, in which multiple people were killed. The body count rose with each report, until it grew to be several dozen deaths, including those of law enforcement officers. Depictions of the creature indicated that it was squid-like, but with characteristics and features of a crustacean, notably a crab. Speculation grew that it was a new species, while others argued that it could have been a mutation of sorts. But soon, officials announced in many different press conferences that such a creature did not exist, and that the creature was simply a Colossal Squid of magnificent proportions.
Then there were several exclusive interviews with a man named Rick Napier. He went around speaking of the events in great detail. In one, he named a Dr. Isaac Wallack, who created the creature as a weapon for the government.
Forster grew more curious with each article. She had heard of it back when it took place, but didn’t think much of it after it was announced to be fake. She came across many articles regarding that issue as well. Following the statements fr
om the government officials, reports indicated that the damage reported by locals, and Rick Napier, were highly exaggerated. The ‘sunken boats’ were never recovered, though it was reported that the creature did attack with its whips when it surfaced. The articles reporting on the hoax reported that the video footage that had been released was altered via computer, to create a false story based on a real tragedy. After a while, the reports stopped, save for Napier, who for months made various appearances via online news forums explaining the existence of the Behemoth, and how it was created.
This led Forster to look up the video footage. Opening up a new window, she first found the original leaked footage of the attack. The video began with a warning, explaining that it contained graphic language and footage. The image was shaky, likely taken from an iPhone. As soon as she hit play, the volume burst with panicked screams as people raced up the beach. There was a quick view of an enormous wave, uncovering the bulk of something enormous. The video panned down to the sand as the recorder shifted his position to avoid a flood of fleeing swimmers. As the camera lifted toward the water, the monster had completely breached the surface. Forster paused the video to look at it, entertaining the idea that it was not a hoax.
She noticed that it contained the basic bodily form of a giant squid, but with a rigid exoskeleton. Multiple whips protruded from its body, not from the head like normal squids, but from the side in a similar manner as legs on a spider.
Or a crab. She watched as it slaughtered several individuals, one after another. Some it devoured, others it just killed. While it was very much an animal, it also seemed like a machine, made solely for killing. She saw the two large front arms, thicker than the tentacles, and armored like the rest of its body. Each arm contained pincers, much like those of a crab.
Forster stopped the video, sickened from the bloodshed. She eyeballed the still image of the ‘fake’ monster. If this was fake, it required a lot of imagination. It was a perfect blend of two specific species. Much like the creature contained in the exhibit. Had she not encountered the mysterious beast, she would be among the many people suspecting this video to be a fraud. However, she began to speculate; what if this thing was real?
On the screen was a side bar with a list of suggested videos, one of which was a segment from an exclusive interview with Rick Napier. She immediately clicked on it. The page opened up and the video was ready for viewing. The camera was focused on him as he sat across a square table. He was unshaven, and seemed tired, possibly stressed. She had never met him, but Forster thought he had several concerns on his mind. If he really believed this creature was made by the government, it made sense. She clicked play.
“No, it is not a freak of nature, nor a miracle of nature,” he said, presumably answering a question asked before the cutoff point. “It was an abomination; scientifically engineered from different organisms to create an ultimate weapon for the government.” It was odd hearing him speak. On the one hand, he certainly sounded crazy, but on the other hand, something about what he said resonated with Forster. The camera switched angles as Napier and the interviewer spoke.
“Why did the scientist kidnap you? You said before, you were just a fisherman. You didn’t even have your doctorate at that time. What was so special about you that this Dr. Wallack and his hired mercenaries had to single you out?” Napier took a brief sigh. Forster believed he was either tired of rehashing the same answers over-and-over, or possibly hating to relive the memory.
“Most of the fishermen here don’t operate with the largest vessels,” he said. “Me, at the time I had a fifty-foot trawler. Dr. Wallack was funding this operation out of his own pocket, as a way of redeeming himself for it getting loose; or showing he was capable of remaining in control of it. But he only had enough funds to buy the mercs. He had no other sufficient supplies, so he located me and took me hostage, along with Chief Bondy, my fiancé, daughter, and her boyfriend. He used them as hostages to goad me into using my boat to aid their cause.”
“And you eventually found it, correct?” the interviewer said.
“Yes,” Napier answered. “They subdued it with tranquilizer.”
“And what happened after that?”
“I managed to help Bondy and Lisa get off the boat. They went on a motorized raft and made their way to the Coast Guard Cutter, Ryback, which was nearby. In the meantime, I was still on the Catcher. We hit a rock, and were trying to weld a patch, when the thing woke up.”
“Wasn’t it tranquilized? How long were you there?”
“Not long,” Napier said. “It was estimated to be able to last for twelve hours. I don’t know if it was an increased metabolism, or if the creature was just too big for the dose, but the tranquilizer wore off quick.” Forster’s interest rose at this revelation. It sounded familiar: eerily familiar. If the story was fake, then it was just another odd coincidence. She resumed the video, and Napier started speaking again. “The damn thing started tearing the boat apart, and killed everybody, including Wallack.”
“That left you as the sole survivor?”
“My daughter and the kid she was seeing as well,” Napier corrected him. “The U.S.S. Ryback arrived just in time and killed it. They saved our lives.” The interviewer sat back, removed his glasses for a moment, while staring at Napier questioningly. Forster suspected he had to deal with these looks often.
“What do you have to say about the Coast Guard formally announcing that they’ve never encountered a creature as you’ve described?” he asked, while chewing on the arm of his glasses. Napier looked visibly tired, in a way that he knew he was fighting an uphill battle. It was not the first time he had heard this news, but it must’ve been new enough to where it weighed heavily on him. It seemed like he was the only one willing to tell the truth.
“Of course not,” he said. “The government wants to keep this quiet. Everyone in the military has been given strict instructions to remain quiet.”
“Your fiancé hasn’t said anything,” the interviewer said. Napier knew he was being baited.
“I can’t speak for her. Her twenty-year tenure is nearing its end, and it was hard-earned. I don’t want to get her in any trouble.”
“She’s with the military?”
“I can’t speak further on that,” Napier said. “Hence, I won’t even mention her name.”
“And what about that police chief?”
“He’s under similar pressure. Though he runs a small force, it’s still a government job, and guess who’s ordering him to not say anything.”
“As it stands, researchers claim that the creature was none other than a regular giant squid, or colossal squid. Its size is considered a marvel, and it’s been baffling oceanographers and marine biologists, but it has been confirmed that it was not a hybrid creature.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Napier was growing restless. It was clear that there was no reaching this interviewer, who either bought into the reports, or was bought by someone else to press Napier. Forster could easily see that Napier was considering walking out, but he remained seated, possibly hoping to reach out to the viewers. “And you probably believe the footage is computer enhanced.” The interviewer shrugged. “By the way, it was never ‘confirmed’. They just reported it, but provided no fu…evidence.” He paused to keep himself from cursing. “And who are these researchers who supposedly verified this? We’ve seen them on TV, but we know nothing about them. Who do you think they work for?” The interviewer didn’t answer. He returned his glasses to his face and looked at his notes.
“You still suspect there’s more of these government hybrids out there?” Even just listening to him was annoying for Forster, how condescending the interviewer was.
“I suspect something’s going on,” Napier said. “Or at least there was. There was the disappearance of that sailing yacht, the K. McCartney, just a couple days later. Maybe twelve miles from our island.”
“I believed it was determined that it was lost in the storm,” the interviewer contr
adicted him again.
“Oh, yeah?” Napier said. “Seems odd, considering their last transmission indicated that they had reached a clearing. And should we just assume that the heavy military activity in that area was just a coincidence?” The interviewer tilted his head and fumbled with his glasses again, as if trying to think of something to say. Napier continued, “There were many reports of Navy choppers sweeping that area, not patrolling, but in a formation indicative of pursuit. They were chasing something.”
“You trust unverified reports? Fishermen, sailors, supposedly seeing something in the distance?”
“I am a fisherman,” Napier said. “At this point, I trust them more than the feds.” The video came to a close. Forster found herself staring at the inactive screen, while she pondered everything she just heard. She didn’t expect to hear him speak about the K. McCartney. As it turned out, she wasn’t the only one who connected the dots between the disappearance and the strange events leading up to now.
Suddenly, she felt really stupid, as if believing a conspiracy theory. She slapped herself in the face, mimicking punishment.
Oh, come on! she thought to herself. It’s not even real. The guy himself admitted that he made it up. Just some asshole trying to get fifteen minutes of fame. She forced these thoughts through, hoping to convince herself to let go of the subject. Perhaps the creature really was just a freak of nature. Everything evolves after all, right? Still, she couldn’t help but notice the odd similarities between the creature at work and the ‘fictional creature’ on the video.
In an attempt to convince herself it wasn’t real, and free her mind of the subject, she clicked on the video which showed Napier making a press release admitting the story was fake. He stood at a small podium, while many journalists sat in multiple rows of chairs. Dressed formally in a suit and tie, Napier struggled not to flinch from the onslaught of camera flashes. Already, Forster noticed something odd. All these reporters for this? Even his exclusive interviews didn’t get that much viewership. It was another bit of trivia she learned in her hours of researching. Immediately, she was speculating. Were these reporters all genuinely curious? Or did someone possibly put them there to make sure this particular story was spread? Hell, the way most people heard of the story was of how Napier was ripped apart in the media for his remarks.
