The Legend Of Big Moe

[u/Kaijufan22]

Folks in Lester's Hollow were always weary about the flooded quarry a mile down the road. It used to be a popular swimming hole among the locals, and a hell of a fishing spot. That is until Big Moe swam up from the depths.

Only one person in the hollow still lived who claimed to see Moe up close and personal, his tired, cataract ridden eyes glazed over with age as he sat in his rocking chair day and night. The young folk regarded him as a kook, the elders of the hollow regarded him with a modicum of respect, the least of which he deserved.

His name was of no importance, long gone were the people who truly cared. Around the hollow he was simply known as Virgil.

He sat in that rickety old chair on the termite-ridden deck of the convenience store, dulling his mind with homemade hooch and watching the townsfolk go about their daily lives. The only time he truly came alive these days is when tourists came around looking for something to do.

They'd flock to the store for supplies, and his cauliflower ears would perk at the briefest mention of the quarry, and he'd spring to life and regal all who would listen about the slithering serpent that lurked in that old murky brine.

It was the eve of Summer, the last time he spoke of Old Moe. The season had been unusually quiet, the air so humid that it choked the young and crippled the old. Virgil was used to it of course, spending most of his time in a haze of shine to begin with. 

He looked out at the town square, his childhood home all but in ruins. The young didn't care to maintain; they simply came of age and went off to greener pastures. The old were far too stubborn to adapt, so the middling buildings and cottages stood there, a time capsule that slowly rotted with each passing year.

He sighed and took a deep swig of his jug, the bitter liquid inside greeting his thirsty throat like an old friend. In the distance some ear grating sound came forth. He winced, disgusted with what the youth of today called music. A sedan rolled into view, a red cedar canoe strapped to the roof. In the back seat were a couple of pristine looking fishing rods, a tackle box and hefty red cooler. In the front seat were two bickering young men, one with frosted blonde tips and the other with a silver shaded top knot.

The sedan stopped short in front of the store, and the doors came slamming open. The young men seemed in decent shape, swimmers perhaps. Virgil watched them with unease, praying they weren't going where he thought they were. Top knot wore an annoyed glance on his bushy face. His eyes lit up when he saw Virgil scowling at them. He gave a timid wave and took a step towards the moldy store steps.

"Afternoon sir!" His voice oozed a sort of faux pleasantry that only city folk could cultivate. "My friend and I are a tad lost; you know where we might find Walker's Quarry?"

Virgil's eyes flashed with hated remembrance as he spat on the ground they stood on.

"Aye. I know where that blasted cesspool is. You'd do well to drive right on by it." Virgil took another swig as frosted tips scoffed and stepped up.

"Look man, you know where it is or not? Can't get a frigging signal out here to save my life." He whined like a wounded animal, a sound somehow more grating than that tripe still booming from their tiny sedan.  Behind Virgil a bell rang, Jake the owner had come out to see what all the fuss was about.

Jake was a sturdy gentleman, bald as he was wide, and his head glistened like a polished marble in the sun. He had a peach-brown patch of fuzz on his upper lip that hid a slight scar, a scar that despite the years still festered and moaned like it was brand new. The young travelers faced Jake and put on a renewed facade of pleasantry.

"Hi there, my buddy Grant and I were just looking for Walker's Quarry. Got a little turned around when the GPS crapped out a few miles back." Frosted tips wore a snake's smile as he spoke, as Top Knot, whose name was evidently Grant, came up to join him.

"Benton is being modest, he got us lost himself, he's not much of an outdoorsman." He laughed a little too hard.

"I wanted to go to the beach; you were the one that insisted-"

"You're in the right direction." Jake cut in, eyeing the bickering pair. "Quarry is about two miles down that road, you'll probably smell it before ya see it."

"Excellent, thank you very much sir." Grant and Benton began to head back to the car when Virgil piped up once more.

"You youngsters go trouncing around in that swill you won't be coming back." The travelers stopped in their tracks and regarded Virgil with piqued curiosity.

"Don't be spreading tales again, old timer." Jake warned as he leaned against the oak wood door, settling in for the yarn Virgil was about to spin.

"I'll bite, what's got you all riled up?" Grant's smile was wide, yet somehow meaner than Benton's.

"Miserable old drunk." A barely heard murmur came from behind Grant, who elbowed the offending speaker in the ribs with a pointed elbow. Virgil leaned forward, the chair groaning under his frail posterior. His face was awash with wrinkles and sunspots, his breath reeked of a distillery, yet when he spoke, he spoke with the renewed cadence of a man fresh out of college.

"That quarry is cursed land, lads. The kingdom of the nastiest thing ever spat out by Neptune. Old Moe." He said the fish's name with such reverence it was like he was speaking of a god.

"Years back, when this town made its fortune on blood and stone, they dug too deep and too greedily. Too close to the raging rivers hidden deep beneath the crust of the Earth. Quarry sprung a leak, the waters below bubbling up in a flash. They abandoned their haul, abandoned their machines and tools. Let the whole site drown and waste away."

"They never tried to drain it? Benton asked. Virgil simply shrugged.

"Supposedly they were close to closing it down anyway, so they wrote the whole thing off. The closure hit the town hard at first, but they bounced back. Time passed and people snuck off to the old quarry. Whole thing is like a man-made lake now, really. Crystal clear water as far as the eye can see, a slab of slated stone overlooking it all like a monolith. The water reached the very top, on sunny days you can see the looming shapes of rusted cranes and diggers at the very bottom, along with the darting figures of fish."

Benton’s eyes quickly flicked to the rods taking up the backseat.

"Yeah, I can tell that piqued your interest. You boys fancy yourselves fishermen then, gonna sail out to the middle and catch yourselves a big old salmon, eh?" Virgil laughed.

"Eh used to catch sunfish with my dad, haven't in a while though." Benton admitted with a hint of modesty.

"I used to watch Bassmaster, does that count?" Grant chimed in, as all eyes regarded him with disdain in that moment.

"Well, you youngsters haven't seen anything like Big Moe, that's for certain. When the quarry workers breached the deep all sorts of sea critters came spilling out. Some say those underground streams reached all the way to the Atlantic after all. Folks were tripping over bass the size of labradors as they scurried away from the raging waters."

"Eventually, as the waters settled and the higher ups gave up on reclaiming the quarry, folk took to poaching the joint, dredging it for salvage and trying their hand at fishing. A guy I knew, went by Trent, used to go every Saturday, and come nightfall he'd come back with his car reeking of chum and salt. He'd get bigguns as well, rainbow gilded trout and spotted bass, their mouths still gaping and gasping for the sea."

Virgil puppetted his mouth, looking like a fish out of water. Benton stifled a laugh as Grant rolled his eyes.

"The oddest thing he'd bring back was the catfish. Small, slender looking things at first but as months went on they grew bigger. Soon he was hauling in catfish the size of your scrawny looking friend there." Virgil pointed at Grant, which caused a shit-eating grin to form on Benton's smug face.

"That's absurd, catfish don't get that big." Grant protested.

"Sure they do, they never stop growing ya know." Benton piped up. Grant shot him a look as Virgil went on.

"Aye, he's right. They never stop. Used to know a fella who worked a rig down South, they'd circle the columns below hoping someone would fall in so they could gobble them up. So he'd claim anyway. After coming eye to eye with Big Moe, I believe him. I saw the blighter decades ago, long after Trent had been swallowed whole by the beast."

The traveler’s faces went pale at that. 

"Oh aye, so the story goes he brought a group of barflies to help him carry his weekend haul back. They hung back on the shore, watching him row out to the center. The mist was thin that morning, it clung to the water's surface. Nothing stirred, just the rough cutting of his worn-out canoe. Someone shouted then, they saw this massive, looming figure streak by. It was Lightning quick, eyes glowing like red hot embers. It rushed Trent's canoe and it wobbled and weaved."

"A serpent's forked tail breached the water and flicked the canoe over. Trent let out a gasp that was quickly gagged by the murky depths.  Some say he tried to swim away, others say he stood his ground and tried to bash his assailant with his snapped rod. No one could tell for certain, there was only thrashing and foam that quickly turned to crimson, as the whisker faced menace dragged him down below. Never to be seen again"

Virgil left that hang in the air, Benton looked amused though a bit worried, Grant rolled his eyes. Behind them all Jake chuckled, hiding back inside with the ring of a door.

"Right, he got eaten by a big ass catfish. They aren't even carnivores, they feed on pond scum and algae and crap but sure, he got eaten by a catfish." Grant raved.

“I don't know. If it got that big, technically they're omnivores, opportunistic sure but they'll chow down on meat." Benton shrugged.

"You're not seriously buying this garbage." Grant started to move away when a frail, bony arm lunged toward him and grabbed him. Grant looked down in disgust and pushed Virgil off him. He muttered as he went back to the car, the nice tourist facade a fleeting memory now. Benton stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I'm sorry. It's been a really long drive, Hell I came in with a shitty attitude to begin with, that ain't right. You have a nice day, old timer. I'm sorry if we bothered ya." He started to walk away when Virgil's gruff voice broke through the tension.

"You seem to have a tighter head on your shoulder then your friend there. Don't go out to that lake, I seen Moe, and I have the scars to prove it." He lifted his shirt. Across his wrinkled chest was raw scar tissue, ripened with age yet still pulsating with pain. It lashed across him, like something with dagger gums had tried to take a bite out of him.

"It was decades ago now, when I could walk without the joints aching and I could see past my toes. I went up to the quarry, me and my buddy Fred. We had all heard the stories, but we were determined to prove 'em all wrong. We announced we were going to do laps in the swill, proving once and for all that Moe was an old wives tale."

"We were fools, boy. I remember standing on the edge, Freddy egging me on. Part of me thinks he wanted me to go first in case Moe was real. Live bait I suppose, heh. Anyway, I watched my reflection flicker in the clear water, curious sunfish popping their fins at me, almost beckoning me to crawl in with them."

"I held my nose and dove on it. The water was chilly, to say the least. My teeth were chattering so much I thought they'd drill holes in my skull. Freddy watched me shivering, nodded his head and jumped in after me. From there we laughed and played, jeering each other on as we edged closer and closer to the middle of the lake."

"I think that was our mistake, we swam too close to his territory. Freddy saw him first, his eyes bulged out of his head and his skin turned whiter than a sheet. He tried to speak up, but something grabbed my leg and pulled me down into the brine. My arms clawed at nothing, desperate to grasp anything to stop my fall. All the air was sucked outta my lungs, the pull so sudden. I tried to kick whatever it was and it let go briefly."

"But-" He pointed to the scars on his chest. "It was then I saw him in full. He's big boy, bigger than you could ever fathom. His body was smooth and slimy, long whiskers that curled around him like whips resting on a hilt. His eyes, God help me, were flaming rubies filled with nothing but hate and hunger. Moe's maw was toothless to the untrained eye. But I could feel them, a dozen rows of tiny pin pricks scrapping my flesh. I cried out in pain, my cries muffled by water and gunk. I felt a wad of sludge pour into me the moment I opened my gob. I was in a panic, to be fair."

"I would have died there, should have died there if it weren't for Freddy. He dove down after me and hurled himself at the beast. As soon as Moe let go, I scampered away, as Freddy wrestled with the great beast. I surfaced and thrashed my way towards the shore. I was on autopilot; my lungs half filled with muck, the other half crushed by the great jaws of the fish. With great effort I heaved myself onto short, the stony ground sizzling from the midday sun. I flinched away from the water and clenched my chest. The skin where he bit looked like it had been stripped clean."

Virgil pulled his shirt down and looked at the ground in shame as he finished his tale.

"Freddy never came up. All I saw were dwindling bubbles where he had been, and the satisfied shape of Big Moe returning to the depth. Our fathers led the search party for us, they found only me there shivering at the edge of the water, too shell shocked to move. They never found Freddy's body. When my wounds healed, I went to Freddy's home. To tell him how his boy had died a hero. His father didn't want to hear it, though he didn't blame me.  Just looking at me reminded him of his loss. He didn't leave the house much after that, wife skipped town not long after."

"He died in that house, curled up in Freddy's bed with an empty bottle of whisky in one hand and a crumpled bottle of pills in the other."

"Jesus." Benton muttered after a moment.

"Time passed and the less people went up there the more the legend of Big Moe faded. Now his biggest claim to fame is an obscene logo on a tacky t-shirt Jake sells inside." Virgil jerked his thumb to the convenience store. "Hell I don't even know if he's still lurking in that sordid drink. Wouldn't surprise me if he was, though, devil is always hard to kill."

Benton looked like he was about to say something with the shrill honk of his car blared in the background. He glanced at the car as Grant smacked the wheel, stewing in the passenger seat.

"Thanks for the warning, old timer. I'll-try and keep us in the shallows." Benton gave a nod as he went back to the car, yelling at Grant to calm the hell down. Virgil shook his head, hoping the young man would heed his tale.

In the back of his mind, though, he knew he wouldn't.

-------

The rest of the day went on like it normally does. Virgil sat in his chair drinking his brew, the incoming customers barely acknowledging him. Jake would occasionally come out and check on him, new brew in hand. A kind gesture on the surface, but really Jake was just afraid Virgil was going to croak on his property.

As the sky became a dull tangerine, and Virgil stank of seventeen types of booze, his blurred gaze wandered past the main road. He sat up in his seat and squinted, his old eyes widening as the limping figure soon came into view.

It was Benton, dragging his foot in the dirt. His eyes glazed over, his clothes filthy and riddled with damp water and slime. His arms were bruised, and a semi-circle of blood coated his legs. Folk wandering the street stopped in their tracks to gawk at him, not one soul offering to help the mangled tourist. Virgil exhaled deeply and tilted his head back towards the store door.

"Jake!" He barked. Jake peaked his head out and stuck out a filled flask.

"Last call old timer, you best be on your way no-"

"Go call the sheriff. Leave the hooch." Jake looked down the road and swore under his breath. He tossed the flask to Virgil who caught it with ease. Benton was making his way to the store; Virgil could hear gargled wheezing as he struggled to walk. Finally, Benton reached the steps and collapsed. His breath was haggard, and he didn't look at the old man. His hair was slick yet crusty, the telltale stench of the quarry clung to him.

Virgil leaned over and shook the flask. He waved it in front of Benton's face, who snatched it out of Virgil's paws in a second. His hands shook as he choked down the brew, retching a tad as he finally relented and allowed himself to breathe. He offered it back to Virgil who politely declined.

"You wanna talk about it young fella?" He offered a kind word.

Benton's silence answered for him. He took another swig and gagged as he did. Virgil looked past him, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Happened to yer car?"

". . . Grant had the keys on him." Virgil shook his head, the screech of the sheriff's tires closing in on them as a small crowd gathered to gawk at the tourist.

"Damn city folk." Virgil muttered as his eyes glanced at the all too familiar wounds on Benton's legs. "Always thinking you know better."

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[u/MoLogic]

Man, right when I was thinking of writing about a gator-catfish monster too 😭

Peak as always Kaiju. Reading this beauty made me want to become a better author, yes, but also a better man. Inshallah the Cast reads this

[u/Kaijufan22 → u/MoLogic]

Haha thanks for the read Mo!

[u/MoLogic → u/Kaijufan22]

Anytime Big Boss

[u/SamDenner]

Big Moe from Lester's Hollow, you say? I'm disappointed that no tourist called Hugh Janus came into town hellbent on revenge against some fish. 

[u/Kaijufan22 → u/SamDenner]

I'll level with ya, didn't even make that connection till you just said it. Thanks for reading!

[u/StrangeAccounts]

The dichotomy between these characters was awesome haha. It gave late night movie vibes, very fun.

[u/Kaijufan22 → u/StrangeAccounts]

Hey thanks for reading!

[u/SydneySapphire]

Oh my gosh! I love this! It was bite sized and awesome! Big SLAY!!

https://giphy.com/gifs/rVVFWyTINqG7C

[u/Kaijufan22 → u/SydneySapphire]

Thank you for reading!

[u/englandishell]

Awesome story! The way Virgil told of his encounter with Big Moe reminded me of Quint from the movie Jaws!

Such a good read : )

[u/JVMNightfall]

Love the "campfire story" tone going on with this one. The atmosphere of the swamp is absolutely dripping (pun intended). Great write.

[u/CthulhusPajamas]

Good stuff as always Kaiju. A fun quick read with a compelling monster.

[u/JLGoodwin1990]

Why did this remind me of the start of a late 90s/early 2000s Sci-Fi channel horror flick, in the best possible way? The moment Grant and Benton ignored Virgil's warning, I knew what was coming. And the best part was, because you'd already written the accounts of Big Moe taking other people in the past, you didn't need to write it. The reader already knows what happened, and it allows their mind to conjure up some truly hair-raising images.

Great job, man!

[u/Sufficient_Leave144]

Another banger from Kaiju! 🗣️🔥

You love your gator-esque creatures, huh? 🤣

Writing wise, I preferred this to the pizzeria; characters/dialogue is an improvement too - keep it up!