In the gentle morning sunlight, Bart sat in his little rowboat alone atop the lake. With care and skill, the elderly gentleman attached a worm to his fishing hook and flung it out into the water. He cranked the line a bit, hoping to tempt a fish to snag the bait. Nothing. The little fellas were being rather picky today. But that wasn’t a problem. In retirement, all he had now was time. Time and leisure to pursue his dreams. If only his wife Julia were still alive, maybe life wouldn’t be so lonely.
As he waited for a bite, a group of young adults ran onto the shore. They removed their clothes and then dove into the water. Not the wisest choice due to all the insects. But it is what it is. More men and women entered the water with a red-haired man trailing behind them in swimming trunks. Little waves licked the tips of his toes. Bart observed and snacked on salted cashews.
“Hurry up, Carter!” a woman shouted to the red-haired man. “Get in!”
“I’m coming!” Carter removed his trunks and stared at the water.
“Don’t be scared! You’ve gone swimming before!”
“I-I know! I know! I just-I’m not ready yet!”
“You’ll be fine! Come on! Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little water, Officer?”
“This is different from chasing down criminals!”
“Yeah! It’s easier! Get in already!”
The people cheered him on, and Carter rushed into the water and played with the others. Carter scratched his skin, and it flared red. He rushed out of the lake with a handful of people following him.
“Is he going to be okay?” Bart asked one of the swimmers.
“Oh? Him?” A man answered. “He’ll be good. It’s a little rash that flares up every now and then. He has a water allergy that requires ointment. If he doesn’t get it, then he starts acting a bit weird. But it is oddly…beautiful.” He gestured his head towards the fishing line. “Catch anything good?”
“Not yet. They’re a little picky today.”
“You come out here often?”
“No. But now I can. Just hit my retirement.”
“Congrats.”
A fish bit the line. Bart took hold of the fishing rod and wrestled with the fish as the crowd of onlookers cheered him on. After a few good tugs back and forth, Bart pulled in a large bass. He lifted it over his head, hoping for the others to see, but all eyes were focused back on Carter as he re-entered the water. Bart dropped the fish in the boat. He threw out another line and waited, knowing that it was just him and the fish today. There was no point in crying over loneliness when there was no one around to hear his complaints. No one was around to care for his little victories either.
***
Bart woke up and rubbed his eyes, the moonlight and stars greeting him with their celestial beauty. He sat up and stretched his arms. Once again, he had stayed out too late and needed to get back home. He needed to remove the cushion he had placed in the boat.
“Excuse me,” a voice said. “I could use some help, please. I think my arms fell asleep or something, I can’t really move them.”
Bart searched around. “W-who’s there? Where are you?”
“One of the swimmers from earlier. I’m on the side of the boat. Can you help me, please? Can you pull me in?”
Bart leaned over the side and found the young red-haired lad floating in the darkness amongst the broken tree branches and thick muck. The young lad lifted his hands like a child in need.
“Mind helping me in?”
“Your name was…Carter, right?”
“Yeah. I’m Carter.”
“You a good cop or a bad cop?”
“Does this answer determine whether you’ll help me?”
Bart smirked. “Maybe.”
Carter’s blue eyes stared at Bart while his mouth slowly opened. “I’m a good cop?”
“I’m just messing with you, kid.” Bart pulled Carter into the boat and handed him a towel to dry off. “You okay? Did something happen to your arms?”
Carter shivered. “I-I’m good. I think muscle fatigue or something hit me. I don’t really know.”
“Where are your friends?”
“They left.”
Bart raised his right brow. “Without you?”
“Yeah. They’re gone. I couldn’t go with them. I think I scared them a bit today.”
“You scared them?” Bart raised his left brow. “How?”
Carter shrugged. “Dunno. They said they were supportive of my rash, but it grossed them out when it got bad again. It wasn’t very nice.”
“Yeah. That isn’t very nice.” Bart wrapped Carter in a towel. “I need to be getting home, but I can bring you back to shore. If need be, I can also drop you off at your place if you don’t have a car. Did you come in your car?”
“I didn’t.”
“Ok. Then I can drop you off. Is that okay?”
“Y-yes. You’re a real friend.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s nothing.”
Bart activated the boat’s motor and steered through the lake. He turned around to check on Carter and found him scratching his rash. It spread throughout his body, forming little red bumps. A thick green fog rolled onto the lake.
“Are you okay?”
Carter scratched his red chest. “Water! Water! Water!” Bits of hardened flakes sprinkled into the water.
“You need water?” Bart scrambled through his food trunk and yanked out a bottle from underneath a pile of potato chip bags. “Here! Will this help?”
“Water! Water!” Carter roared, his voice transforming into something deep and malformed. “I need water!”
The force of Carter’s voice knocked Bart back into the lake. He hit his head against a log, dazing his senses. Slowly, he regained focus. Another splash in the water. Algae congregated around a humanoid shadow, wrapping him like a thick blanket. The shadow twisted and convulsed. Multiple legs sprouted from the body. The arms grew in size while hands twisted into claws. The torso extended to a long rectangular form. Whiskers erupted from the face. The Carter-thing whipped its elongated torso through the water, allowing it to swim at incredible speed. It rammed into the boat, tipping it over. Bart surfaced and gasped for air. His arms flailed as he tried to reach the shore.
There was a sharp pinch on Bart’s leg, followed by a tug and crunch of bone. Bart screamed. Blood surrounded him. Floating before him was a giant crayfish, its red shell composed of flesh and bone, its two eye stalks made of muscle ending in human eyes. Its antennae were made of nose hairs, and its many legs were composed of human flesh. It stared at Bart as it gnawed on a man’s hand, clinging to it with a giant, humanoid claw. The ruby ring on the ring finger slipped off and sank to the depths. Bart screamed. Bubbles rose.
As the creature pulled Bart closer, he kicked the beast in the eye. It reeled back and released him before swimming into the murky depths. Pain shot through Bart’s left leg, but he pushed through the suffering and floated to the surface. His heart raced as he swam to shore, body bumping against floating limbs, torsos, and heads. Upon exiting the lake, he limped into his car and locked the doors. Need to get to the hospital! Come on, you key! Fit in the keyhole! Rustling came from the bushes on his left. Bart held his breath, turned his head, and waited, bottom lip quivering. Out of the darkness and mist came a park ranger in a ten-gallon hat and a pistol strapped to the hip.
The ranger stood beside the car. “Are you okay, sir? I hope I didn’t scare you.”
Bart rolled the window, leaving only a crack. “I-I’m alright. I’m just heading home. T-there is something in the water.”
“Something in the water?”
“A-a giant crawdad thing.”
“A giant what now?”
“A crawdad!”
“A crawdad? You’re yanking my leg.” The ranger chuckled. “It’s always something with these pranks. Anyway, I got a few missing persons reports for the Lake. Know anything about that? The police will be here for questioning if you don’t mind staying.”
Bart shook his head. “I-I can’t. The crawdad will get me.”
“This again?”
Bart quickly scanned out the front window for the beast. “Look! There is a man who can turn into a giant human crawfish. He tried to drag me underwater.” Bart opened the car door and showed his leg. “My leg got hurt. See? What kind of creature could do that in this lake? He did this to me. See? He did this!”
“Golly. It sure is torn up all right. No blood. No sticking out bones. No nothing. Sure looks healthy.” The ranger grinned. “You have one of those half-asleep nightmares or something?”
Bart stared at his leg. Indeed, it was fully healed. He knew the beast had snapped at him. It had been hurting. Now the injury was nothing more than redness and bumps. Looked more like mosquito bites.
“T-there are bodies in the water. If you don’t believe me, then go see for yourself.”
“Bodies? What bodies? You’re not taking drugs out here, are you? We get a lot of people doing that.”
Bart’s nostrils flared, and his teeth pressed together. “I will not! You go in the water yourself! And I’m not taking drugs! I am a respectable man! I worked in social services for disadvantaged youth for the past forty years.”
“No need to bust a gasket. I just know sometimes old people are looking for a little something-something towards the end of their lives, and they get a little high. No shame in it. But you can’t do it here.”
“Ah, piss off and get bit!”
Bart slammed the door and started the car. The ranger stepped back. Bart sped out of the lake and onto the highway, mumbling insults about the ranger, fantasizing about filing a complaint and getting the man fired. That would teach him to show respect. Bart scratched his burning leg. I should get to the hospital and have this thing checked. That monster could’ve given me some kind of disease. Let the police and that idiot handle whatever’s out there. He flipped on the radio, hoping to distract himself.
His leg began to burn and itch beyond belief. Wanting to scratch, Bart pulled off to the side of the road and lifted his pant leg. The redness had swelled up past his thigh and towards his groin. Unable to resist, he scratched his leg over and over until blood caked under his nails and speckled the floor. With his other hand, Bart grabbed his arm, knowing that any further relief would damage his skin. Need to keep going. Need to hurry before this thing spreads. A jolt of pain rushed through his arm. His fingers bent and contorted. Index finger joined to middle finger, ring finger to pinky. His hand turned into a giant red claw made of skin and shell. The rash raised his skin and hardened into a thick red shell. A thirst for water rushed onto his tongue. His throat became dry. Bart scrambled around for water in the backseat, but was unable to find any. There was a knock on the passenger door. Bart jumped and looked.
A woman stood at the driver’s window. Bart rolled down his pants and the window down using his good hand. He hid the claw beneath his shirt.
“You alright?” the woman asked. “You need any help?”
“N-no,” Bart lied. “I just need a break.”
“You-sure-you’re-all-fight? Do-you-weed-someone-to-row-your-vehicle-into-town? I-clan-do-fat-for-moo.”
Bart swallowed his saliva.“W-what?”
“I asked if you’re alright and if you need me to tow your car into town?” She adjusted her camouflage baseball cap. “I have my own tow truck. If you need some help, I’d be willing to assist.”
“I-I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You don’t look fine to me. You’re in a sweat.”
Bart sighed. “I-I may need a little help. I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“Come-on-out-and-I-can-hook-your-carp-up-to-my-muck.”
“H-Huh?”
“I can hook your car up to my truck if you step out.”
“Right. Sure. Y-You, uh, got any water?”
“Yeah. I have some unopened bottles.”
“Thank you, appreciate it.”
Bart entered the truck, and the woman handed over a bottle of water from beneath the dashboard. He chugged it down, water dripping from his chin, and relieved the itch on his skin. After the lady hooked the car to the tow truck, the two of them continued down the highway. Bart kept his hand tucked beneath his coat.
“What’s wrong? You catch something?”
“I wasn’t feeling too well. That’s all. I think I caught something from someone.” Bart looked out the window, but the highway lights forced him to squint. “You think these lights are too bright?”
The woman chuckled. “They aren’t bright enough. It’s hard to see where you're going on this road.”
“Which hospital do you want to go to? The closest is St. Matthew’s.”
“Then take me there.” Bart scratched his leg, red flakes raining onto the carpet. “Actually, I think their emergency room would be best.”
“Your call, chief.”
They entered the hospital parking lot, and the woman stepped out of the tow truck.
“I’ll unhook your car. You go into the hospital. I’ll leave it here.
“Thank you.”
“It’s no problem.”
The woman unloaded the car and then drove off, bidding Bart goodbye. He stumbled into the emergency room and stood before the receptionist. The man stamped papers with his lifeless eyes, his bubblegum popping every few seconds. The thumping noise paired with the bright lights was a bit too much.
The receptionist raised his eyes. “You here to see someone, or are you sick?”
“Sick. I have a bad rash.”
The receptionists handed Bart a paper form. “Please fill this out. Someone will call you back shortly. Sit anywhere you like.”
Bart sat in a chair and scratched his good hand against his pants. The infection had spread up to the knuckles. It wasn’t long before Bart was called to the back of the emergency room and given a bed.
“I’ll be back soon to check your vitals. I am missing a stethoscope. Is there anything you need me to bring back?”
“W-water would be good.”
“Water it is. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
The nurse left as Bart sat alone, wishing his wife were with him. He had always hated the doctor, been scared of them. But when Julia was by his side, he felt like he could overcome anything. Now did not feel like such a time.
Pain and burning rushed through his body as his vision increased in power. Bart scratched, and scratched, and scratched. Little hisses escaped the back of his throat. He rolled on the bed as his skin hardened into a bumpy exoskeleton. Bart’s nose hairs grew, stretching out to impossible lengths while his limbs contorted to strange angles. Water! Water! Water! Bart’s eyes elongated into stalks. Black pupils obscuring the whites of his eyes. “Water!” His body contorted into an elongated form as extra legs sprouted from him. His good hand finally transformed into a claw. Eyes stretched into thin stalks.
Bart scuttled out of the room and into the hallway. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him.
“G-giant crawfish!” a man screamed. “Giant crawfish!”
Everyone joined in the hollering and fled the hall as fast as they could. With great speed, Bart rushed through the building and down to the lobby. He found a water fountain and tore it off the wall. Sweet water gushed out from the fountain’s plumbing and soaked his shell. Staff and patients screamed as they ran away. Bart didn’t care. Footsteps approached. Bart twisted his eye backwards to look behind him. Two security guards stood behind him, each armed with their pistols. The sour, yellow odor of urine wafted from each of them.
“S-should shoot it?” the security woman asked. “I think we should kill it.”
“Yeah!” The security man confirmed. “Shoot it! The police will be here soon. We’ll hold it off!”
Bart whipped around and roared. A shot of pain rushed through him. Within seconds, his body molted, and out of the dead shell came a hulking humanoid shape with two legs and two large claws. The soft pink skin hardened instantly. His muscles rippled and grew as Bart let out a bellow that knocked the security guards back. They scrambled to their feet and opened fire. Ineffective. Bart charged the woman down and knocked her into a wall. Bones cracked. He picked the man up by the neck and closed his claw. The guard’s head popped off, and the body fell to the floor. With a racing heart, Bart let out another shout and rampaged through the lobby, tearing up furniture and destroying walls. Red and blue lights flashed outside. Police armed to the teeth with shotguns and assault rifles exited their armored vehicles and stormed the building.
A woman pulled the trigger on her shotgun. Shells struck Bart in the chest, and he stumbled backwards and onto his knees. Law enforcement circled him.
“What is that thing?” a trembling officer asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” another replied. “Bring it down!”
They opened fire, taking off bit by bit of Bart’s shell. A bullet punctured his shoulder, and Bart let out a scream. Where am I? What’s going on? As the police continued to fire, he raised his hands in surrender.
“P-please don’t hurt me,” Bart said. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Why is it making those weird noises?” a police woman asked. “Is it talking?”
“No clue.” A red-haired officer approached Bart and fired shells into his chest. The old man flew onto his back. “It’s a monster. Doesn’t matter.”
Bart wheezed as his body tried to repair its damage.“P-please, don’t.”
“I wouldn’t get too close to it, Carter,” a woman said.
“I’ve seen enough monster-hunting videos,” Carter said. “I know what I’m doing.” He placed the gun against Bart’s head. “You should’ve stayed where you were hatched. Things would’ve turned out much better for you.”
“C-Carter?” Bart reached towards him and snarled. “You did this to me! You did this!”
Carter shook his head, the light catching a bit of rash beneath his eye. “I wish I didn’t have to keep doing this. If you had stayed where you were, then you would’ve had someone to care for you. To look after you. Maybe a friend. But no, you left. And now you must face the consequences. A shame, though, you were big and beautiful.” A single tear rolled down his cheek. “No matter. It is how it is.”
***
Cynthia parked her car in the hospital garage and made her way to the janitor’s closet. She changed into her jumpsuit and grabbed cleaning supplies. She entered the lobby through a thick crowd of reporters spewing questions at a red-haired policeman. They sang praises for his bravery and for gaining control over the situation last night. Beside him was a pool of red and blue blood that was streaked to the exit. Rumor had it that a man in a lobster suit attacked and killed two security guards. All Cynthia knew was that she had to clean the mess up. Freaks will do anything these days to gain attention, even dressing up and terrorizing people. Madness.
As she scrubbed the floor, the reporters finished their questions and left the officer alone. He approached Cynthia and watched her scrub the floors. A small rash appeared on his left cheek, and he applied a small white cream.
“You may need a bit of help with that,” the officer said. “I don’t think you can do it all alone.”
“I’m fine, Mr Newson.”
“Call me Carter.” Carter looked at the mess on the floor. “You sure you don’t want me to show you a trick? It’ll be real quick.”
Cynthia shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Carter reached for the mop and dug his nail into her skin, scratching her and drawing blood.
“Ow!” Cynthia yanked her hand away. “That hurt.”
“Sorry.” Carter held the mop and began to scrub the floor. “I’ve been meaning to clip them; it keeps slipping my mind.”
Cynthia cleaned the injury with an alcohol wipe. “Be more careful next time you help someone, please.”
“I won’t let it happen again.”
Cynthia scratched her hand. “Yeah. Good.” She swallowed hard. “You uh, have any water? The fountain is broken.”
“I can buy you some from a vending machine. How’s that sound?”
Cynthia coughed and scratched the back of her hand. “Thanks, officer.”
“Anything for a friend.” >/p>