Shark Beast 2: Paranormal Sharkitivity Read online

  "It's not a sex thing," Mick said, with a sigh, rubbing the beer bottle against his temple. "I hit that girl with my car, two weeks ago. She's dead. I was drunk, and here's the stool I got drunk on, and you're the one who served the drinks that drunk me up." He laughed a sharp, lifeless laugh. "And that's that."

  "Get out." Paddy turned to the tea-tipper, the family in the booth, the hot girl at the table alone. "Get out, all of you. You got a protest, do it when we're open. I'll call the cops on you just as quick then as I'm gonna do now if you don't beat it-vamoose-go." Now he barked a lifeless laugh, and said, sarcastically: "You don't gotta go home, but your creepy-behinds can't stay here." He snapped his fingers into pistols and aimed at the door.

  "I killed the little girl," Mick said tonelessly. Then, pointing toward the librarian: "She don't drink. She met a guy, brought her here -- this is a couple years ago, that used car guy, with the bad hair -- anyway, tried to get her drunk, succeeded in getting hisself plastered, and then proceeded to drive one of his used cars -- and his unlucky sober date -- into the back of a parked semi. That's her story."

  "Fine," Paddy grunted, heading to the phone by the register, muttering. "Had enough of this..."

  "The family, in the booth," Mick continued, pulling gently at his earlobe, "they're guests of Pat Mulheavens. Of Mulheavens Carpet Cleaning. Remember that crappy old white van with the big green MCC on the side, carpets with feet that looked like pirate flags? Some crazy logo, huh? Well, that van took them, all of them ... right out." Mick tsk-tsked. "Superbowl Sunday. Remember, your TV went out, everybody was irked crazy-mad, went screeching out of your parking lot, sauced and sassy? Remember that, Paddy? Been a while ago, I guess..."

  Paddy picked up the phone, started to dial...

  Nothing.

  No dial tone.

  Nothing.

  "You freaks do something to my phone?" he grumbled, thumping the phone, trying to get a connection.

  "And that sheila over there, the real hot number? She's from Australia," Mick said, looking at her admiringly, even through the shadows. "Or was. Her boyfriend had a Harley, they stopped off here for a quick one. Which you graciously served, even though it was obvious who was driving, and what they were riding on and... well. Motorcycles... you can imagine what that was like. As good-looking as she is now, you should have seen her before..."

  "Okay, that's it." Paddy's voice was sharp, and his tone was final. His hands slipped underneath the bar. "Spooky-time Theatre is over. You've all made your point, now get out, or all of us here is going to have us a real conversation."

  He pulled his hands from beneath the bar.

  And brought with him a sawed-off shotgun.

  "In about ten minutes," he said, his eyes glinting and his expression glowing with the phrase: new sheriff in town, "you late-night freaks and midnight crazies all are going to officially become trespassers, and will be treated as such. Now I'd advise you to, a) leave right now, and b) never show your self-righteous protesting hippie rumps and cheek-bones here again."

  He leaned the shotgun on his shoulder.

  "There's more," Mick said, in a gloomy sing-song, continuing as if Paddy wasn't even there, "but they didn't want to come in. They didn't ... just didn't want to..."

  But Paddy wasn't listening. The hot number, the Australian chick, stood up and was heading toward the big window. She reached up, gently taking hold of the on/off string that dangled from the bottom of the neon PADDY'S sign.

  "Hey, sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" Paddy said, irritated. His fingers tightened on the shotgun.

  "...didn't want to," Mick repeated, tearing at the label on his beer bottle. "They said... they said..." He took a deep, steading gulp. "...said they wanted... to wait outside."

  And with that, the Aussie girl clicked the PADDY'S sign on.

  In the window, the neon fog gyrated around the faces of about a dozen or so shadowy looking people, pressing their hands up to the glass (but not touching), and leering into the blinking colors, looking all like a psychedelic version of 'Dawn of the Dead.'

  "... with the others," Mick sighed. He hefted his beer -- cheers! style, toward the window -- then downed the rest of the bottle. "Here's to them. Floaters in the fog."

  "What the freak --!" Paddy grabbed the shotgun off his shoulder, gripped it in his arms like he was going to aim it, but looked shakily uncertain what exactly to aim it at.

  He settled on Mick.

  "Micky, you got about 3 seconds to tell me what the crud is going on," he said, gritting his teeth while his eyes went shiny with fright. "And I'm still going to shoot your butt." His voice dropped to a desperate, beyond-whisper. "What is this?"

  "What can I say," Mick said, setting the empty bottle on the counter, rubbing at his nose with his thumb knuckle. "There comes a time when you run up a tab, and a time when you got to pay it." He shrugged, dumbly. "It's time to pay."

  Paddy aimed the shotgun at a beady spot right between Mick's glazed, nowhere eyes.

  "You want to collect," he said, in that same whisper. "Here it is."

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Aussie girl, standing by the front window.

  The neon faces where gone; only the fog remained.

  "Where'd they go?" Paddy asked, barely able to voice the words. "Where are they?"

  "I'm sorry, Pad, but ... time to settle up," Micky said, in a sad, I-know-how-you-feel voice. "It's closing time."

  Paddy noticed, seeping quietly around his feet...

  Small tendrils of fog.

  He looked up at Micky, fear and unanswered questions swimming in his eyes.

  Micky just shrugged:

  You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.

  Ever again.

  And the door jingled.

  Tentacle TEN

  Breezes

  ... He looked up at Micky, fear and unanswered questions swimming in his eyes.

  Micky just shrugged:

  You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.

  Ever again.

  And the door jingled.

  ~ ~ ~

  And then, after a bit of throat-clearing and speaker static, Britnee's voice faded, and there was silence.

  ~ ~ ~

  And then...

  Just the gentle roll of the waves, the soft ruffle of leaves and weeds and loose, lost branches, as breezes skipped and sauntered over the beach...

  ... around a knocked-over tripod, with twisted-bent legs and a sand-inundated camera dangling duct-tape and a shattered lens...

  ... around a towel, along with two abandoned bikini tops, with matching abandoned bottoms...

  ... and, finally, breezing around, over, and away from two long, sluggish drag marks in the beach sand, smeared with swirls of red, stretching from the towel, all the way to the soft rolling waters.

  ~ ~ ~

  And then, as the breezes slipped off and away into the cool night, there was one last short bit of speaker static, and the digital recorder clicked itself off.

  Tentacle ELEVEN

  Blue

  Alysia knew she was going to die.

  Well, if she wasn't dead already, of course. Which was completely possible -- she was underwater, after all, had been for a seemingly dangerously long time. And it didn't hurt anymore -- not like it had when the whatever-it-was first attacked, and dragged her (and Britnee, of course, don't forget Britnee) screaming into the surf. Now that had been painful. Searing, electric, fiery -- had never felt pain like that before...

  So, yeah. She knew death was around here somewhere.

  She pondered this, as she continued sinking deep, deeper, within the blue...

  Hadn't felt anything like it before--Britnee hadn't, either, Alysia would bet on that. She was the one who got it first --

  They had been making out, just like they were supposed to, when suddenly the camera tripod started to wobble. Noticing this, peripherally, Alysia was going to say something, but she was getting into all this
kissing stuff. She figured, why interrupt a good thing? They'd have to start the tape over, and the sound of Britnee's digital voice, reading that bar story...

  ... sinking, sinking, sinking...

  So, yeah, why interrupt a good thing? And, she had to admit, it sure was a good thing, feeling Britnee so close, so intimate. Funny, that -- Alysia had gone through her experimental lesbian phase, after she'd had her fill of the whole "boys business" (talk about something that went nowhere), and, yeah, being with chicks, it'd been okay, but it still was more trouble than it was worth. Better than guys, that was for sure -- by a long shot -- and there were all sorts of fringe bennies, like wearing each other's clothes, and whatnot. But, eventually, inevitably, it would turn all "relationshippy," and man, did it go downhill fast from there. Fast, fast, fast...

  ... sinking, sinking, sinking...

  What was even funnier, though, she mused as she drifted downwards in the bubbles and undulating blueness, was even in her chick-to-chick phase, a girl like Britnee would totally have turned her off. Too "girly." Alysia had a "lipstick lesbian" once -- and wow. Totally worse than being with a guy! All bossy and passive-aggressive... not worth the trouble. Even for the extra clothes. And you could never get into the bathroom! No thanks...

  But, here, something about Britnee -- intrigued her. Didn't know what that could possibly be, as she seemed pretty superficial, even for a blonde, especially for a blonde, but ...

  ... sinking, sinking, sinking...

  Maybe it was her confidence. Her ambition. Her ... something. Kind of inspiring. Or was...

  Too late now.

  As she descended, she couldn't even see Britnee. The last she saw of her was when those tentacles wrapped around their legs, and pulled them both into the water. Funny, Britnee definitely went screaming, yes, terrified, definitely, but she went down fighting. Again, that raw unbridled determination, to the bitter end. Alysia, for her part, had just pretty much accepted it--actually spent her "dragging time" watching Britnee, wondering what might have been...

  How silly was that? Alysia mused.

  Didn't matter now, of course, Britnee was definitely gone. Right before she went under -- right before she disappeared from Alysia's sight, she'd coughed up a huge amount of blood. Way too much to be okay. The fight went out of her pretty much instantly. Alysia had been tempted to look away, didn't want that to be the last image of Britnee she'd ever see -- but that's just when Britnee disappeared into the froth. And that was that. Gone.

  And, as Alysia continued to sink-sink-sink, she pondered this. Missing Britnee. Rather intensely. But feeling strangely distant at the same time. Odd. So, strangely... passive about the whole thing. It wasn't that she wanted to die, particularly, but she didn't have the energy to live. At least, not if she had to do anything for it. So she sank. Intensely. Passively...

  ...sinking, sinking, sinking...

  Besides, she vaguely considered, why fight it? I must be dead by now. I've been down here way too long. I don't even feel the need to breath anymore. So that's that, then. It's over. It must be.

  Casually -- for something to do -- she looked down.

  She saw a tentacle wrapped around her ankle, pulling her down, down, down. But the rest of the monster, or whatever it was, was obscured by blue shimmering shadows. She wondered, briefly, if Britnee was down there, too, somewhere in the shadows, but then she let that thought swirl away with the bubbles. Why not--no point now.

  They say your life passes before you when you die, but if Alysia's had gone by, she missed it. But she didn't care. She didn't like to think about what her 19 years had been like. Some good, some bad, some probably really bad if she bothered to dwell, but... it was all behind her now. Or above. Or wherever. At least she had a good last memory, with Britnee. With all the kissing. That had been fun. Before all the blood, anyway.

  ...sinking, sinking, sinking...

  I wonder how long this part lasts, she pondered. Not that she minded really. It felt almost kind of nice. And this water -- sure was deep. Maybe she'd get to see things that hadn't been seen, like, for tons of years. That would be interesting.

  And then, just like that:

  She began to hallucinate.

  Like someone tossing a switch, bingo -- welcome to weirdville. She didn't mind, though, wasn't troubled; Alysia knew she was hallucinating, because she had hallucinated many, many, many times in her life. She'd done a lot of drugs. Simple as that. Nothing to be proud of, necessarily, but she liked to get high, and did often. Didn't try to hide it. Made all the other stuff go down easy. Maybe that's what was happening now; hallucinating to make this endless trip into the blue go down easier. Not that it was that big a pain as it was, or--whatever.

  So, yeah. She was definitely hallucinating.

  Maybe it was that thing, the "bends," or whatever. When you're scuba-diving underwater, and you come up too fast, or go down too deep, or whatever. Though that was supposed to hurt when that happened, at least it did in the movies, but this... this felt rather nice.

  But:

  She was definitely hallucinating.

  Just ask the shimmering figure right over there.

  Alysia smiled. Cool. Company.

  The figure -- company! -- floating just a few feet (fathoms? whatever) in front of her, was definitely a female. At first, she felt a little jolt -- Britnee? --

  But no.

  This figure, was too tall, and thin. Britnee was all curves and brass and fleshiness. This one, had a nice enough shape, but was... tall and thin. Yeah, tall and thin...

  She couldn't tell anything else, couldn't make out any more details -- just that this "girl" was a big, tall, thin blue shadow. And it was floating down with her. Though this "girl," she didn't have a tentacle wrapped around her foot, pulling her down. She seemed to just be ... following wasn't the right word. No, she was just keeping pace, like she was just...

  "...along for the ride?" the blue shadow asked, with sort of a giggle.

  "Oooh, cool," Alysia said, her words spilling out in bubbles. "My hallucination can talk." Blinking with surprise, she added, "Oooh, so can I!"

  The blue girl-shadow just giggled.

  "So, I guess I'm dead," Alysia bubbled, casually. "So how about you?"

  "Ohhh, you're not dead," the shadow cooed. "Not exactly."

  "Ohhh, here we go. With the puzzles. Can't you hallucinations ever just say what's up? This is why I stopped doing drugs."

  The girl-shadow tut-tutted. "You never gave up drugs."

  "I know," Alysia shrugged. "Instead of puzzles and riddles, I out-and-out lie, I guess."

  "That's okay," the girl-shadow comforted. "That's completely fine."

  They continued down into the blue.

  "So..." Alysia paused; then with a bubble-shrug: "Britnee's dead, though, huh."

  The girl-shadow paused, for a long time. "Not in the way you think she is," she said, finally.

  "Ahhh," Alysia nodded. "More riddles." For no particular reason that made her think of Britnee, informing her, I'm very vengeful.

  The girl-shadow flickered and shimmered. "I'll be certainly glad to answer any questions you might have."

  "Okay," Alysia sighed. She was trying not to be rude, but it seemed pretty obvious what the first -- and only question, really -- would be at this point. Which was: "If I'm not dead, and Britnee's not dead, what are we then?"

  The girl-shadow giggled.

  "You know, it'll be much easier if you just wait. Then you'll see."

  "So in other words, you're really not certainly glad to answer any questions I might have."

  The girl-shadow really giggled at that. "I guess you're right. I'm just so used to it from my side of the blue."

  "Well, here on my side, it's pretty freakin' clueless."

  "Okay, fair enough," the girl-shadow said, as she swam in a lazy circle. "I'll tell you, but don't worry if you don't completely understand, because it'll be clear in a few moments."

  "Hey, if I get confused, won't be the
first time," Alysia bubble-chuckled. "Besides... something to do."

  This got a nice big bubble-laugh. "I like you," said the girl-shadow. "I'll even tell you the parts I wouldn't normally tell. You'll know the whole deal."

  "Wow. Lucky me."

  "That's certainly a way to look at it," the blue girl said, swirling in giggling bubbles.

  "That looks like fun," Alysia bubbled wistfully. Then she looked down at her ankle and gave that tentacle a scowl.

  "Oh it is, it is," she said, then got down to business. "Here's the tale as I know it. Did you ever wonder about the shark beast? And how it got here? And why?"

  "Not at all," Alysia said. "The first I heard of it was at the audition, basically. Or what passed for an audition, with those guys..."

  "Well, afterwards, then. Didn't you wonder? A shark with tentacles, and pinchers and all sorts of such? That could attack on land and in water? That didn't seem ... odd, to you? Unusual, at least?"

  "I just assumed it was like bigfoot, or something."

  "You believe in bigfoot?"

  "If he grabbed me and dragged me under the ocean, I guess I would."

  "Good point." She nodded thoughtfully. "Though, he is real, too, by the way."

  "Sure. Why not."

  "Well, they're both real, but not in the way real is real. They're... paranormal-real."

  "Paranormal. Like magic, or something?"

  "Well, not in the way magic--"

  "--is magic, yeah, I see where this is going," Alysia interjected.

  They both laughed. Blue bubbles everywhere.

  Still sinking, sinking, sinking.

  ~ ~ ~

  "So, as you can see, it's really getting out of hand," the blue girl said, going on and on. "It really wasn't meant to get this far. Not at all."

  Alysia nodded, vaguely. She'd been listening, but not really hearing. It was all so ... unbelievable. But then -- it was a hallucination, after all. Of course it would be bubbly nonsense. Still, for some reason, the urge to be polite. Even to a jabbering hallucination...