As anyone who follows my Twitter feed knows, I've recently become enamoured with the works of Guy N. Smith, particularly his Killer Crabs series. To the point were I feel compelled to write a story in his singular style. Children, let us begin...
Captain Mudraker was a simple man of simple pleasures. For over 30 years he had sailed his small, diesel powered trawler across the English Channel, selling his meager haul to fishmongers at each end of his voyages. While his hauls were meager, they were enough to fund his continued sailing, his fondness for drink, and the occasional gambling he chose to partake in.
His skin was stained a deep mahogany by the years spent on the open sea. Similarly, his skin was lined and marked by the harshness of Neptune's domain, the fierce winds and blinding salty spray. His prematurely greyed bushy beard hid the softer features of his face, disguising his jovial nature under a mask of grim determination. His tattered wool jumper, more stitches than material, and a particularly chewed clay pipe completed his ensemble.
The captain found himself in a mood as foul as the stench of his rotting teeth. Even by his own meager standards, this haul was pitiful. He'd hardly be able to refuel his whiskey stock, let alone the boat's engine at this rate. Oddly, this stretch of sea was usually a hive of underwater activities, it was as if something had disturbed the sea life below him.
"Like rats from a sinking ship." he chuckled to himself, overly amused at his own wit.
"And who can blame ye, with all of the submarines and boats and bombs. This war is a bloody nuisance to my trade."
The captain was not best pleased by the ongoing hostilities of the Second World War. He wondered why the two sides couldn't just leave well enough alone and mind their own business. Troublemakers, the lot of them. He'd been disturbed and disgruntled by naval vessels, sea mines and submarines too often by far.
"Bloody warlords and boffins, disturbing the balance of the natural ocean." he bemoaned to nobody in particular.
Captain Mudraker was awoken from his thoughts by a sudden jolt of his vessel.
"Somethings tugging on my anchor. Haven't bothered with that for years!"
He burst into another fit of braying laughter. Eventually, when he tired of this, he decided to investigate. Most likely he had become caught on a rocky outcrop, or some dashed German U-Boat. Bloody Krauts! The boat began to tilt slightly, then list further. The captain struggled to retain his footing as the surface on which he stood swung up from the horizontal. The boat was rocking slightly, rhythmically, as if a tremendous weight was hauling itself up his anchor chain.
Fearing that some some armored naval diver might be attempting to scale his vessel, Mudraker reached for one of his whaling harpoons. Moments later, the sight before him almost caused him to drop the spear. An impossibly large claw had breached the surface of the water. A giant crab, or some more horribly mutated crustacean was emerging from the briny depths! The creature quickly chambered abroad, salt water dripping from its serrated claws, it's red eyes glowing satanically in the dusk twilight. The beast was a crab alright, a crab the size of one of those modern tanks deployed on the front.
"Cripes! This the spawn of Neptune, come to punish me for stealing from his realm! Lay on then, beast, give me your best shot!"
Mudraker ran at the giant crab, harpoon extended, gleaming tip aimed at its shell protected face. The crab did not budge, it knew the fruitlessness of the assault. The harpoon snapped in half on impact, sending the captain reeling, as the crab made a single sweep of its pincers. Struggling to his feet for a second round, Mudraker reached out for another weapon. After several moments unable to grasp a second shaft, he realised his folly. Where his right arm normally resided, there was merely a bloody stump, crimson liquid spurting from its aperture.
The Captain realised the folly of his defiance, he knew there was no point in resisting. He did not struggle as the razor sharp pincer split him from nave to neck, and welcomed the sweet embrace of death. The crab, for its part, enjoyed its new meal, before returning to the depths from whence it came.
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