Bureau of Monster Capture and Rehabilitation

Volume 1: Boot Camp

By Wulfric Van Howlietzer

Chapter 3: The Loch Ness Monster

The waters rocked with the wind. Heavy clouds threatened with thunder and flashes of lightning–the loch foamed; it was abnormal. Captain O’Malia took a look at his watch. His ship Merry Weather had a voyage scheduled by a-last-minute tourist who wanted a chance to see Nessie.

“Even Nessie wouldn’t be caught dead in these waters…”

Captain O’Malia made a decent living guiding tourist along the loch. He regailed them with stories of the legendary monster that seemed to grip the world. Nessie was perhaps the world’s most famous monster, and as far as he could tell, she was just as fake as all the rest. It was easy money, and he loved the water, what more could one say.

He checked his watch again. The client was late. He didn’t like it. Even if she was paying him triple for a private tour, the loch was doing something he’d never seen before in his fifteen years of sailing it. He watched from his docked ship, the waves smacking the sides of the Merry Weather, the bubbles and foam churning in spraying. This was certainly new.

He turned towards the shore, resigned to fully tie down the ship and call it a night. He called to the crew to disembark, when he saw them: the private group of ten.

In the lead was a woman in a crop cut blazer with a tight pink t-shirt underneath and tight, tweed capris. She was busty, fairly attractive, but not dressing her age. The nine following behind her were peculiar still, dressed in shiny white robes, each wearing an ornate, silvery mask: covered in Gaelic runes and shaped like various animals. Wolves; deer with antlers; men with facial hair etched into the silver; birds of prey; bears, each fierce with a foreboding presence that gave him the shivers.

“I should have asked for more…” he said.

“Captain O’Malia, I presume,” she said extending her hand. He shook it. “Miss Stern. Is this your party?”

“Yas,” she said, “Friends of mine. I’m so glad that you agreed to do this for us. Especially in this weather. Brrrr. It’s rather chilly. I don’t suppose I could borrow your jacket?” She fluttered her eyes at him, and politely he obliged.

He ordered the crew to set sail, ignoring their protests. He pushed them onwards into the blowing wind and spitting rain. He and Miss Stern sat in the cockpit. He gripped the wheel tightly as if it would get away from him if he didn’t. He just kept staring out the front window watching the robed passengers just stand there, motionless on a rocking ship in the middle of chaos.

“What exactly are you all doing here? I’ve already figured out you’re not here for a regular tour,” said Captain O’Malia.

Miss Stern eyed him up and down. “Would you believe we’re pirates searching for buried treasure?”


“Oh you’re no fun,” she smiled. “There is a treasure down there though. One most people would die to see. That’s why we’re here.”

“No kidding,” he said, “What treasure is down there?”

“That would spoil the surprise silly.” She pulled out an odd rock from her pocket. All Captain O’Malia glimpsed from it was a strange blue rune that pulsated white.

“We’re getting closer,” she said. The white light pulsed faster. It made the captain nervous.

“Quick, three degrees starbard! I mean port! Why can’t you sailors say right or left?”

Captain O’Malia quickly spun the wheel to correct the direction. The light blinked faster and faster until in died…

“Stop!” she shouted. “Drop the anchor!”

“Leave the orders to me, Miss.”

“I’ll take orders from you all night long,” she said.

Captain O’Malia flushed.

Miss Stern put her rock back in her pocket, and walked to the bow where her white-robed companions stood. They gathered around her as if in a huddle. Captain O’Malia couldn’t figure out what they were doing. Then the huddle broke each of the robed ones took a position around Miss Stern; it was as if they created a small circle and a large circle around her, five in each circle, staggered so one person wasn’t too close to another. Then the inner circle moved clockwise 111 degrees. The outer circle moved counterclockwise 222 degrees. Then both circles moved in their opposing directions 333 degrees.

A beam from the sky cut through the clouds and two stars appeared around Miss Stern. Each member of the white-robed group was a point to a star, and then bent down, their hands touching the ground inside the widened stances.

Miss Stern shouted to the cockpit and surprising Captain O’Malia could hear it.

“Have you heard of the legend of St. Columba and the Loch Ness Monster?”

He had. His eyes widened. “You think you can wake the beast? It’s only a legend.”

“Does this look legendary to you?” she asked. The churning waters and howling wind created a menacing presence all around them.

The robed figures rose from their bent positions. There arms raising with them, hands stretched wide as if lifting some invisible weight.

“We’re not pirates. That’s obvious. We’re world movers. We see the future and we guide it there, forming the world as we want it.”

‘She must be mad,’ thought Captain O’Malia, but whatever they were doing was working.

“I assure you this boat will not sink, my mystics will raise the monster from the depths, and we will all leave here unharmed. Any questions?”

“Who are you?” said the Captain, his brow suddenly drenched in sweat.

“Me? Hun, I’m a grade A bitch from an top secret organization. Ooh!” she clapped her hands together, “They’re pulling it up!”

Captain O’Malia stepped out of the cockpit and joined them on the bow. The mystics’ hands had reached above their heads and there seemed to be something floating just above them. It was hard to make out, but in the lighting Captain O’Malia could make out the shape of a woman.

The mystics brought their arms down to chest level and then they all began to squat and with them, the woman thrashed about in the air, like a fish on a hook, the mystics struggled with her as they reeled her in to the deck. Once there she squirmed as if fastened by invisible chains. Shaped like Aphrodite, her naked form bounced in the thrashing, her ears which protruded from her wavy blue hair were fin-like. Most peculiar was her mouth, stretched in a grotesque scream, her breath staggered as if she was locked in some unknowable agony. There was no sound at all.

Miss Stern placed her hand on the woman’s forehead as she struggled, which left the woman calmer than before. She stopped writhing, all of her attention focused on Miss Stern. “My dear,” said Miss Stern, “We have come to rescue you from your prison, but before I release your restraints, I need you to do me a favor: shut the fuck up!”

She turned to the mystics. “Disenchant her. These seals ARE breakable. I want it done before we get back to the states and I want it done without damage to the girl.”

She pulled one of the mystics aside. “Place another enchantment on her. One that keeps her from causing me any harm. I know her history…”

She turned to the captain. “Well, Captain, I hope that answers your questions. Now I have one for you: how bad do you want me right now?”