Cryptid Zoo

by Gerry Griffiths

  The kraken clung to the coral reef and watched the fish swim by and disappear, only to reappear again in an endless parade. None of the occupants in the Tank paid any attention to the giant octopus camouflaged on the centerpiece of the aquarium and didn’t consider it a threat as it kept to itself and normally preyed on crustaceans and mollusks.

  But the eight-legged creature was becoming increasingly bored, its intelligent mind needing a challenge. It contemplated using its sharp beak to eat one of its arms for something to do as its primal urges compelled it to establish a more dominant role.

  The underwater floodlights had been dimmed and the overhead lights on the other side of the glass were turned off in the observation room.

  The octopus considered attacking a ten-foot long tiger shark gliding by. It would have to be extremely fast as the shark had exceptional vision in low-light conditions and would easily evade capture. Even if it was able to latch onto the shark, there was a great possibility that the other tiger sharks would think a feeding frenzy was taking place and gang up on the octopus.

  That left the great white shark. Even though it was larger than the tiger sharks by an additional six feet, the octopus was confident that a one-on-one battle would be in its favor as long as the other sharks stayed out of the fray. Which meant timing the attack when the tiger sharks were on the opposite side of the reef.

  The kraken moved slowly, its pigmentation reverting to its true self, as it climbed up the reef and pulled itself onto the other side.

  It waited patiently as the tiger shark pack and a school of silvery fish passed by.

  The great white came around the bend. It swam with a commanding presence as though it were the only animal in the aquarium. The white underbelly made the shark seem smaller and not as threatening but the kraken knew not to underestimate the carnivore as it was a vicious killer with massive jaws and flesh-ripping serrated teeth.

  When the great white reached the midway point of the reef, the kraken thrust out its arms. Two appendages wrapped around the girth of the big fish. Each suction cup clamped down and fastened to the sandpapery skin of the shark, stopping it from swimming and preventing oxygen from passing through its gills.

  Sensing that it was becoming oxygen deprived, the great white thrashed its body and tail in an attempt to break free.

  Another of the kraken’s arms shot out to wrap around the great white’s head.

  The great white bit off the arm with one savage bite.

  Blue blood oozed out of the severed limb as it drifted down to the bottom of the aquarium, the tip of the appendage protruding out a few feet from behind the coral reef.

  The kraken wrapped more of its arms around the great white, sealing the gills and muzzling the conical snout. The struggle was intense but brief. The giant octopus released its prey and the great white floated away just as the tiger sharks made their sweep around the reef, sensing a new source of food.

  Not wanting to be mistaken as part of the meal, the giant octopus released a cloud of cephalopod ink, obscuring its retreat as it shot to the surface of the aquarium.

  There was a one-foot gap between the water and the metal cover. The kraken saw the diver’s hatch used for lowering the drums of krill. It grabbed the wheel on the hatch and turned it counter clockwise then pushed it up.

  The opening was large enough for it to compress its arms and fit through, then drag its head out.

  Once it was on the roof it quickly resumed its natural shape. Now that it was out of the water the only way it could survive was absorbing oxygen through its moist skin, but once it dried, the giant octopus would be unable to breathe and would quickly die.

  Not wanting to return to the aquarium, it had to find another liquid habitat if it was to survive.

  The octopus used its arms and scaled down the side of the building, breaking off a surveillance camera.

  Ascending on a concrete walk, the octopod unfurled its arms and pulled itself sloppily along the ground toward a building with bright lights, and once there, emerged into the strange smelling water and hunkered down at the bottom.

  15

  SKINNY DIPPING

  Bob Pascale poured some scotch into his glass and took a gulp. He put the bottle on the small table by the sliding glass door. Rhonda had refused when he’d suggested they sit out on the enclosed patio and have drinks. He couldn’t blame her, especially after the incident with the mothman.

  Rhonda had propped herself up with some pillows on the bed and was watching an info commercial. A muscle bound hunk, glistening with sweat, was vigorously doing a strenuous workout on a multi-functional exercise machine.

  “Maybe we should get one of those,” Bob said, and flexed his bicep as he hoisted his glass to his lips.

  “Why, our garage isn’t cluttered enough?” Rhonda picked her glass up from the nightstand and took a swallow, dribbling some on the front of the white bathrobe provided by the hotel with the emblem WE above the breast pocket.

  “You wouldn’t like to see me buff like that?” Bob glanced at himself in the full-size mirror on the wall. He was wearing his Hawaiian shirt and matching swim shorts from their last vacation and a pair of brown flip-flops. His shirt was unbuttoned and open.

  He often thought when he was younger that he looked a lot like Sean Connery in his James Bond days with his hairy chest and black hair. He still felt virile having the thick mat on his chest, as after sex, Rhonda would often lay beside him and pluck at it with her fingers.

  The hair on his head had receded and thinned out.

  He stared at his paunch straining his waistband.

  Rhonda switched off the TV with the remote and swung her lithe legs off the side of the bed. “Let’s go for a swim.”

  Bob checked his wristwatch. “It’s after hours for the pool.”

  “So?”

  “You want them to kick us out?”

  “They’re not going to do anything. What’s the worst that could happen?” Rhonda said, slurring her words.

  “I don’t know,” Bob said, hesitating, as he didn’t know if he was really up for a night swim.

  “Sure you won’t change your mind?” Rhonda undid her sash and slowly opened the robe. She was completely naked underneath.

  “Rhonda, you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Not up for a little skinny dipping?” She patted barefoot across the carpet and grabbed the lapels of Bob’s shirt. She stretched up on her tiptoes and planted a wet kiss on his lips. He could taste the alcohol on her hot breath. He knew there was no resisting her when she was in one of her sexy moods. Damn she looked good.

  “All right. Better grab some towels,” he said and went over to listen at the door connecting to the next suite. He couldn’t hear the TV and figured the boys must have gone to bed.

  Rhonda closed her bathrobe and slipped on a pair of sandals. She went into the bathroom and came out with two folded towels.

  Bob made sure he had the keycard as they left the room. They went all the way down the hallway to the far elevator at the end of the corridor. Once they reached the ground floor, they’d be closest to the door leading out to the pool area and wouldn’t have to worry about being noticed by anyone at the front desk as the lobby was around the corner.

  As soon as the elevator doors opened, Bob and Rhonda snuck out quietly, went over to the door that led out to the pool, and crept outside.

  Bob was relieved to see there were no other guests or employees around and that they had the Olympic-size pool all to themselves. The hotel lights shimmered on the surface of the chlorinated water. He walked over to the edge and looked down into the water but it was difficult to judge the depth with the black gunite on the bottom. It was like gazing down into a dark well.

  He heard a splash and turned.

  Rhonda popped her head out of the water. “What are you waiting for? Get in.”

  Bob watched as Rhonda dove and swam underwater, scissor-kicking her legs. He marveled at her tight buttocks as she passed by. She lo
oked amazing, naked in the pool lights.

  He was starting to get aroused.

  Eager to get in the water, Bob began to take off his shirt just as Rhonda came to the surface. She stayed afloat and kept staring down in the water. “Bob? There’s something moving on the bottom.”

  “Wait a second,” he replied, kicking off his flip-flops and tossing his shirt on the nearest chaise lounge.

  He turned around.

  But Rhonda wasn’t there.

  He went to the edge of the pool and gazed into the water thinking she must have gone back under.

  He couldn’t see her anywhere so he walked along the edge.

  “Rhonda?”

  This is weird, where’d she go?

  He looked over at the ladder thinking she had decided to climb out, but again, there was no sign of his wife.

  “Rhonda, what the hell? Quit playing games.”

  Had she drowned?

  He had to dive in and save her, but how, if he didn’t know where she was?

  “Honey, please...just tell me where—”

  A gigantic arm burst out of the water and wrapped around Bob’s bare chest and back, hoisting his feet off of the wet cement. He grabbed onto the slimy appendage hoping to pry himself loose but it was like being wrapped in the powerful coils of an enormous anaconda.

  He quickly realized it wasn’t a giant snake but the kraken.

  How the hell did it get out of the aquarium?

  It was crushing him like a vise.

  Gasping for air, blood spurted out of his mouth. His ribcage splintered, puncturing his lungs and heart. He could feel the suction cups pulling the flesh from his body but not the pain associated with being skinned alive.

  He quickly lost consciousness and was dragged down into the water to the bottom of the pool.

  16

  DAMAGE CONTROL

  Ivan Connors hadn’t slept well since the park guests had arrived. As head of security it was his job to ensure everyone’s safety and make sure none of Carter Wilde’s bizarre menagerie of creatures killed anyone. He’d taken on dangerous assignments before, protecting Wilde Enterprises’ expatriate employees in Third World countries from rebels and terrorists but that all seemed tame compared to overseeing the insane theme park.

  He was constantly plagued by the adages Expect the unexpected and Murphy’s law Anything that can go wrong will go wrong and felt like he was always one misstep away from treading on an inevitable landmine.

  Ivan stood in the control room behind the chair of the security guard monitoring the flat screens covering one wall. He didn’t envy the man’s job, having to flit from screen to screen, systematically checking all forty for any suspicious activity.

  “Is that the latest roster?” Ivan asked, glancing down at the man’s desk.

  “Yes, sir,” the guard replied, never once taking his eyes off of the monitors as he handed Ivan the clipboard.

  It was the complete list of everyone currently inside the dome. There was a tiny picture of each employee, copied from their ID badge and snapshots of family members so the security team could easily identify them.

  He ran down the list to get a proper headcount:

  SECURITY-18

  MAINTENANCE AND GROUNDSKEEPERS-14

  ZOOKEEPERS-10

  HOTEL & RESTAURANT STAFF-17

  TOUR GUIDES-3

  LAB & WORKSHOP-11

  BUS DRIVERS-2

  PARK VISITORS-93

  SPECIAL GUESTS-2

  Ivan tabulated the numbers and came up with 170 people, counting himself, that he was responsible for. A daunting task, especially if something should go—

  “Will you look at that?” exclaimed the guard seated at the desk.

  “What is it?” Ivan said.

  “Monitor 23.”

  Ivan placed his palms on the desk and leaned forward, catching a glimpse of a nude woman diving into the pool. A man was busily disrobing when the woman came to the surface. “Zoom in on her face.”

  The guard typed on his keyboard and a white box zoomed in and appeared around the woman’s head. He enlarged the image.

  Ivan glanced down the visitor list and got a photo match. “Rhonda Pascale.” He looked up at the screen. “Let’s hope the lucky schmuck is her husband.”

  The guard zoomed in on the man’s face.

  “Yep, that’s Bob Pascale all right,” Ivan said, confirming the image to the photograph on Pascale’s badge ID.

  “Wait a sec, where did she go?” The guard grabbed a joystick on his desk and began toggling the remote camera so they could get a wider sweep of the pool.

  Rhonda Pascale had vanished.

  Her husband was frantically pacing the edge of the pool.

  “Holy shit!” the guard yelled when Bob Pascale was suddenly lifted off the ground.

  “Oh my God!” Ivan said, feeling like he had just been kicked in the gut. “It’s the damn kraken! How the hell did it get in the pool?”

  The giant arm of the octopus slipped back in the water, taking the man with it.

  “What do we do?” the guard asked, spinning around in his chair.

  “I want a team over to the pool right away but no gunfire. I don’t want to alarm the guests. Send another team over to the Tank. I need to make a quick call.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ivan retreated to his office and shut the door. The digital clock on his desk read 1:46 A.M. He didn’t look forward to waking Carter Wilde so early in the morning but what choice did he have? Two people were dead.

  He speed-dialed the number, put his cell phone to his ear, and waited for Carter Wilde to pick up. He answered on the fifth ring. “This better be important.”

  Ivan relayed the ghastly incident to his boss.

  After almost a minute of dead air, Carter Wilde said, “Connors, I’m counting on you to resolve this problem.”

  “How so? Mr. and Mrs. Pascale are dead.”

  “I’ve known you to be resourceful.”

  “What, another cover up?” It was like the time Wilde had spun a story and told Ivan to send a team to eradicate a band of saboteurs that planned to blow up one of his refineries only to learn later that a small group of environmentalists had gone missing.

  And now it was a Wilde Enterprises employee and his wife.

  “I’ve invested too much time and money into this park. Don’t screw this up.”

  “But sir.”

  “Get it done,” Carter Wilde snapped and ended the call.

  “Wilde, you son of a bitch.” Ivan pocketed his phone, grabbed his two-way radio off the desk, and stormed out of his office.

  “Is everyone in position?” Ivan asked, entering the control room.

  “Yes, sir,” replied the guard at the desk.

  “Good. I’m going over to the pool. Tell the team at the Tank I’ll be over there shortly.”

  “Should I call O’Brien?”

  “No. I don’t want her involved. Not just yet,” Ivan said. There was no way he could cover up this mess if the marine biologist knew her main attraction had escaped and was killing guests.

  He raced out of the security building and rushed over to the hotel. He cut through the rear downstairs hallway and went out the back to the pool.

  Three of his men were standing at the edge of the pool and were staring down into the water. One of them spotted Ivan approaching and called out, “There’s nothing down there.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Ivan said. He joined the men and looked for himself.

  All he could see was the black bottom of the pool.

  “It must have crawled out. Spread out and canvas the area. I’m going over to the Tank.”

  The men fanned out and started their search.

  Ivan double-timed over to the aquarium. The front entrance door was open and he went inside. Two of his men were waiting for him in the observation room.

  “What do we have?” he asked.

  One of the guards pointed through the glass.

 
Ivan could see the end of one of the octopus’ arms extended beyond the edge of the reef. “Frigging thing’s a regular Houdini.”

  “Roberts is up on the roof. He said you should come up.”

  Ivan walked through the building to the service elevator. He got in and rode it up to the roof. He stepped out and saw Roberts standing by the divers’ station. Black wetsuits were hanging on the wall over a dozen oxygen tanks and other SCUBA equipment. A small crane with a swivel arm was mounted on the rooftop, next to 6 fifty-five gallon drums.

  “It must have been a tight fit but I’m thinking it used this hatch.” The guard stepped back to make room for his boss.

  Ivan came over and looked at the upright hatch. The opening was maybe forty-eight inches across, large enough to pass down a large barrel, or in this case, big enough for a fifty-foot long octopus to squeeze through. “Close it up and put a lock on it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Satisfied that the culprit was contained, Ivan continued on with his plan and returned to the hotel. He’d brought along his most trusted man knowing he would be discreet and wouldn’t ask any questions.

  They went up to the Pascale’s suite. Ivan used his master keycard, opened the door, and switched on the lights. The two entered and Ivan closed the door. He scanned the room then turned to the other man. “I want you to collect all of their belongings. Don’t overlook anything.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guard grabbed the two empty suitcases in the closet area across from the bathroom and threw them on the king-size bed. He went over to the dresser and yanked out each drawer, tossing bundles of clothes into the cases. He searched under the bed and picked up shoes and anything that had been left on the floor.

  Ivan went into the bathroom. He picked up the small waste bin on the floor under the sink and began scooping combs, toothbrushes, cologne and other toiletry items off the counter into the plastic liner. Once the countertop was cleared off, he pulled the full bag out of the waste bin and placed it by the door leading out into the hall.

  He came back into the suite and picked up the phone on the nightstand. “Front desk? I need for you to send someone up from housekeeping right away and give this place a thorough cleaning.” He placed the receiver back on the cradle.