Another Monster Story (The Swamp Thing)

Part 2

I ain't sure I've ever heard a more terrifying sentiment than the one Old Man Vernon gave me that night before I set out. I'd almost gone back and shot me some ducks or somethin', just so's I wasn't the ONLY meat bag in the boat. But I didn't wanna waste any bullets. I had a gun with me - a shotgun, which was a bit unfortunate, since that meant I had to let the damned thing get pretty close before I could take a shot.

Which led me to another thing - did I even WANNA shoot the swamp monster? I mean, sure, it was out rippin' gators in half, but had it hurt anyone, really? Apart from scarin' em half to death, but I don't think scarin' people's really a crime, when you're a monster. If anything, you're kinda entitled.

So if I didn't wanna shoot it, what was I doin' out in the middle of the swamp as the sun was settin', with nothing but a boat and a shotgun? Well, I think the main thing was that I just wanted to see it again. Just to be sure it existed. Maybe take a photograph. Yeah, that was it. I had my phone with me, if nothing else I could snap a pic. Slap that on Instagram. My twenty-five followers would sure as hell get a kick outta that.

I mean, they'd likely say it was photoshopped. Ha! Like I had the tech know-how to photoshop a picture of the goddam Cthulhu. I'm an engineer, I can tell you how and where to get oil. I can't tell you nothin' about how to take a picture of a tree and turn it into a green gorilla. That ain't my area of expertise.

That wouldn't stop 'em from sayin' it was fake though. Well, let 'em be skeptics. City kids. Most of my friends back in Texas were mechanical engineers, whereas I'd taken the chemical path. They were all sooooooo damn smart. Oh, look, I can build a what's-a-shit. It'll take us to mars one day. (Why are we even goin' to mars? Wasn't the moon good enough for you? Oh wait, I forgot- y'all think the government photoshopped the moon landing. What is it with city kids and photoshop?)

I can't build a perfect spacesuit and I don't know how the stars showed up, like my physics friends. But I can tell you how to make a good fuel, or how we ended up with oil in the ground. That's about it. Oh, well, I can also blow shit up. I'm kinda good at that, as any one of my lab teachers can tell you. Set off a smoke alarm more'n once.

None of that shit comes in all that handy when you're hunting a swamp monster, though, does it? Maybe the blowin' shit up part would, if I'd brought anything to blow shit up with. But unfortunately I'd left my totally legal bomb kid back at home up north.

So all I was left with was this shotgun. Which weren't really a pity, since again, didn't plan on shooting it. If there was one thing that I was regretting, though, it was that I hadn't picked a better boat to borrow, since on the way out to this spot I hadn't been able to get it goin' near as fast as i'd hoped it'd move.

The sun was down now, and all the noises around me had got louder. I took out my electric lanter - a fancy one, with a dimmer, so I kept it pretty dim. I wanted my eyes to be able to adjust real quick if I had to shut it off.

For the first couple hours, nothin' happened. I think I was foolin' myself. I could hear screams in the distance, like a big cat. Or a swamp monster. A chill ran down my back.

Bo, get a hold of yourself. Ain't no reason to be scared. You gotta gun.

Yeah, but this thing tore a gator in half.

Bo you piece'a shit, stop making yourself scared.

For about two hours, my internal monologue was pretty much like that. After a while I got bored and started to sing to myself, takin' out my harmonica and trying to figure out how to play this one song - Chandelier, by that chick who I swear to god might not actually have a face under all those wigs. It ain't an easy song to learn on harmonica, but I learn by ear. I chipped away on that for a while.