Tonight we present an excellent bit of guestery by John Donahue - a tale of unlikely encounters and the aquatic arcane. Many thanks, sir.
The Skinner Co. Network
FPGE16 - Fishing by John Donahue
[Music] Welcome to Flashpulp Guest clone 16. Fishing by John Donahue. This episode is brought to you by The Flash Mob. Join us at Facebook.com/groups/theflash mobsters for the fresh skinnercone news, pulpy postings, and the occasional interdimensional portal that will allow you a brief glimpse into one possible future. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you should join for your own good. Oh, and also that you should skip the post midnight sandwich that you'll be considering on the 25th of June. That's Facebook.com/groups/theflash mobsters. Management is legally obligated to point out that this offer is void in Utah and for any time traveler known as Richard, especially any jerk Richard who keeps buggering up the histoscope lab's mail shoots. Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight, we present an excellent bit of guestry by John Donahue, a tale of unlikely encounters and the aquatic arcane. Many thanks, sir. Fishing by John Donahue. ♪ Would they be angry if I thought of joining you? ♪ ♪ You miss them days. ♪ It was raining, not a steady rain, but the kind that just mists and gets everything damp but not truly wet. He sat by the edge of the water with a paring knife in one hand. In the other, it was a cucumber he was carving kanji into. Having finished the characters, he brushed away some of the loose pieces and tossed it into the water. The fruit hit with a plunk sound and bobbed there. He watched it float for a moment as it bumped into one of its brothers. With a sigh, he reached into the bag next to him and pulled at another. "Come on, you fucker. I know you're in there," he said under his breath as he started carving again. His brown hair lay flat against his head, damp like the rest of him. He wore heavier clothing because of the weather, a plaid buttoned down shirt and blue jeans with his heavy boots. He stopped for a moment as he reached up and rubbed the faint scar on his neck. He sighed, but before he could start his carving again, a call came up from behind him. "That's a strange way to fish," he turned and looked back towards the road. An older woman with iron gray hair stood by the road, not far from his rental car. She was dressed for the weather. With her was a brown dog on a retractable leash that was sniffing the ground around them. It had some sort of blue vest jacket thing on. He got to his feet and walked over to her. "Hello, ma'am. Lovely day for some fishing," he said with a slight pause. The hound paid him no attention. "Oh, you could say that, I guess." "If it's not too personal of question, do you live in the area?" "I do, mister." "Sorry, that was rude of me." He opened the passenger door of his car, and after a moment closed the door and handed her a business card. It read, "L.T. Kane. Rare goods and services." He gave an address after that. "You're a long way from Virginia, mister Kane. What's the L for?" Lazarus. My mother was a good Catholic woman. She wanted her children to have biblical names. "I'm sure you caught hell for that in school," she said with a smile as she pocketed the card. "Not as bad as my sister." She ended up with Bellquist. He said, returning the smile. "So what kind of services do you offer?" "It would sound cryptic, but if you need to ask that, you don't need them." "Mm, very." "So, why did you ask if I was local?" "This pond here. Does it connect to a river, an aquifer, or anything like that?" He said, hooking his thumb behind him. "Not that I know of," she said with a shake of her head. "It used to be an old shale quarry till, about maybe, ten, fifteen years ago." "Why?" His brow furrowed for a moment as he thought. "Mmm, nothing important now. Just wondering, really." "Well, I'll leave you to your fishing, then, mister Kane. But be careful. A couple of people had drowned out here of the last few weeks." "Ma'am," he said with a nod as she turned and walked away. Her dog still sniffing the ground. He turned back to the water and stopped. Two of the cucumbers were gone. There was a ripple in the pond, and then a third disappeared. He had half turned to get a sword from the yard, when its head broke the surface. Large, watery eyes stared at him with a kind of pure malice. Its long, green hair clung to its head, sharp, needle-like teeth lined its jaw, and in its mouth was the latest of the vegetables. It crunched as it began to chew. "By the ancient laws of beast and men, why do you stalk these waves, Water Spirit?" He called to it. It continued to chew as he moved to the edge of the water. "As a servant of ancient light, I demand you answer." Its mouth contorted, and after a moment he realized it was smiling. His eyes narrowed, and he took two steps into the cold water. "I am tasked to hold back the night, and I challenge you, Water Spirit." Its smile remained as it tossed the cucumber away, and launched itself out of the water at him. He grabbed the beast by the body as it tried to knock him over. He used his forearm to block the teeth, trying to eat his face off. Its breath was horrid, and it smelled of fish. Twice he punched it hard as it grabbed his hair, then he tossed it back into the water, and away from him. It took a piece of his hair with it. Lazarus realized his mistake as the thing slipped back beneath the waves. "Shit!" he took one step back towards the shore as he searched the water for the monster. Two his left, the beast sprung up from the water and slammed into him like a truck. It knocked the wind from him as it grabbed his shoulders and forced his head under the water. Only maybe five inches of water were between him and the air, but the capo was stronger than he had realized. He was on his back, held in place. He slapped and punched the thing, but to no effect. As his vision began to dim, Lazarus realized the creature was laughing. Then the pressure was gone, and the air was sweet. Hacking, he drew in a deep breath as he broke the water. He looked around to see the capo floating face down next to him, bleeding from the head. He heard a dog barking. "Are you okay? My God, what the hell is that thing?" He looked up at the woman he had spoken with before. She stood next to him in the water, with a large rock in her hands. "We need to get it out of the water," he said, as he grabbed the monster and dragged it onto the shore. It was roughly humanoid in a form, and about the size of a child. Its scaly reptilian skin was green like a frog. It had a shell like a turtle, and webbed hands and feet. As he pulled it up onto the shore, he grabbed its hair and slammed the thing's head three times against the ground, and then twisted sharply to the left with a sickening crack. "Again, what the hell is that?" she said, with rising panic in her voice. "It's a capo. Kind of like a water goblin," he said, as he tried to calm his breathing. They drowned swimmers and drank from the corpses. It was what was drowning people here. She looked from the creature to the man, then said, "Services." With a nod. "Services," he replied. "Oh, geez. We need to get you out of those wet clothes, but she'll catch your death," she said as she pulled him to his feet. Her dog stared up at him. "Munch of blige, ma'am." Then after a moment, he looked back down to the dead cap at their feet. He got a fireplace. [BLANK_AUDIO]