Attack of the Sand Squid

Based on the picture "Sand Squid" by Synthean

Thanks to Todger 65 for the edit.

Bernard Heuvelmans (10 October 1916 -- 22 August 2001), "The Father of Cryptozoology," pioneered the modern study of cryptids, animals considered myths by the majority of his colleagues. Such studies were cause for great derision, and the destruction of his professional reputation among the scientific community.

The body of work and literature, On the Track of Unknown Animals, In the Wake of the Sea-Serpents, are akin to the Bible for his followers.

Upon his death in 2001, assertions arose among his fans of unfinished work and research. An unprinted chapter from his book on colossal squid; rumors of an unpublished book detailing creatures far fetched even by the standards of his most fervent believers.

Searches of his papers produced few results, most of which were dismissed as forgeries or pranks, perhaps by Heuvelmans himself. A few brief notes concerning a creature referred to as the Pacific Sand Squid were among the scoffed.

The events said to have befallen the individuals described in this record, are alleged to have occurred during the summer of 199__. Some of the record might be considered rumor and conspiracy theory, the rest pure speculation . . . or not, depending on the fervency of the reader's beliefs.

****

"Sue! Get your ass in here and help with the luggage!"

"Good grief Aunt Ethel! Why'd you have to bring all that?!"

"What? An old broad like me ain't allowed to get some exercise?"

Susan Brown sighed, half exasperated, half amused. Her aunt was only 43, just under a decade older than herself. That may as well be 30 these days. She was more big sister than aunt. "An eccentric, crazy big sis," she smiled, "Only she would bring barbells on vacation."

It was good, though, Aunt Ethel could come to Boracay Malit. Sue loved her aunt. She was tough, boisterous, outgoing, and earthy; not a person to be messed with.

Ethel Martha Brown lived the crazy life Sue's father would envy, if he weren't so dull. His little sister was the black sheep of his straight-laced, conservative family. In her lifetime, her professions included roller derby star (Martha "The Mauler" using her middle name), wrestling ("Brunhilde Brown), and bodybuilding. Susan idolized her.

Susan never tried to copy her aunt's eccentricities but did take inspiration from her life. It manifested in her childhood and teen years as a form of adventurism, and some assertiveness in college.

Aunt Ethel rarely visited during Sue's early childhood. Her parents were quiet and evasive when Sue first asked about the large, loud girl who stormed through the door one day, twirled through the house like a tornado, and left the next morning, leaving an exasperated Mr. and Mrs. Brown, and an awestruck Susan.

When Sue was twelve, her grandmother asked her parents to store some old, and some not so old, junk in their attic. Sue couldn't resist rummaging while her parents were out. She found a box full of fliers and clippings.

The coltish, skin-kneed, tomboy read through the clippings with growing fascination. Aunt Ethel was in her roller derby phase, "Martha the Mauler," young but already a star. Sue convinced, actually badgered, her dad to take her to one of Aunt Ethel's tournaments. She went to the stadium a curious girl, and left with a new idol.

A few years of teenage problems tempered the idol worship. Her admiration for the tough, earthy, bawdy Amazon never waned, however.

Sue's staid parents tried to steer their daughter away from her aunt's influence, limiting her visits, forbidding Sue from pursuing roller derby, to partial success. While she didn't exactly follow her aunt's path, Sue did enthusiastically pursue athletics, mostly volleyball and swimming, excelling at both.

A problem, two actually, appeared in her late teens when her breasts, formerly B-cup and manageable, blew up to double D pillows. Her breast expansion was further complicated by her ass plumping to two round bubbles, and a thickening of her torso.

The body changes caused some insecurity. Sue began a phase of dieting which got out of control. Her aunt's intervention put her back on the right track.

"Fuck starving!" she yelled to Sue in her blunt, earthy manner. "Put some grub in ya, and lift some weights girl. Look at me. You think I worry about my looks? You think I give a fuck what some supermodel wannabe thinks on some PC? I told myself not to be a stick, and you damn well won't be either."

Susan went back to swimming, and began to lift weights like her aunt. She never became a muscle Amazon but her regimen allowed Sue to maintain a curvy, toned body.

The older and freer Sue grew, the more she hung with her aunt; often attending her wrestling and bodybuilding competitions. She would help her aunt train, spotting for her on weights. Her work as a production assistant allowed her to cast Aunt Ethel as an extra in a few movies and TV shows.

While Aunt Ethel did well on the roller derby, wrestling, and bodybuilding circuits, she displayed no real desire for major fame. It was adventure which interested her. She took the occasional acting role as a favor to her niece. Some agents did take notice, and she scored a few more roles but barely rose above C-level status, appearing as an extra here, a henchwoman to a secondary villain there. The extra money was good, at least.

Extra money especially came in handy for bargain vacations. Cheap resorts or spas abounded on the web. The difficulty came from separating the bad from the good, whose affordability stemmed from lesser amenities than the high end places.

Susan heard of Boracay Malcit from a co-worker who'd spent a nice, quiet vacation on the island with her husband. "It's quiet, out of the way. You can rent a small bungalow on the beach. Not many go there so you have tons of privacy. It's the best kept secret in the Philippines. The beach is clothing optional though, so it pays to keep an open mind."

Open mindedness wasn't a problem for Aunt Ethel. Susan, initially more reserved in her youth, opened up under her aunt's influence.

A few more checks brought up no red flags except one, which Sue skimmed briefly before laughing. Some anonymous reviewer with a story best described as, "UFO's, Bigfoot, and conspiracy crap."

Sue and her aunt prepared for the trip with new bikinis and a trip to the salon for hair removal.

"Let's go full smooth," Ethel suggested, "I'll spring for the laser."

Sue usually liked to keep a little landing strip but decided to follow her aunt's lead for this trip. A fifteen hour flight to Manila, a short hop to Boracay Resorts, followed by a short ferry ride to the smaller, cheaper island, and they were in the bungalow, arguing over barbells.

"We're here to relax Aunt, not lift weights."

"Hey! You relax your way, I'll relax mine."

Susan blew another exasperated sigh and helped her aunt with the luggage. The bungalow turned out to be well-kept and maintained. The resort, for all its economy, kept good standards.

The women were less concerned with immediate enjoyment; between unpacking and jet lag, they agreed dinner and sleep were the best options for the first day.

The small bistro at the main building served excellent Filipino cuisine. The decided on a chicken adobo, pancit, and lumpia. They ate, and chatted with the other guests at the bistro.

The other guests present were a couple of pensioners from Glasgow, the Campbells, a jolly red-faced couple enjoying a cheap vacation like them. A married couple and their teenage son from St. Paul, Minnesota, the Maitlands. The kid gaped in wonder at Ethel. The parents recognized her from her wrestling years. Sue hid a chuckle at the boy's fascination. Aunt Ethel always impressed with her size.

The final couple were a pair of surfers from Brisbane, Barrett Winford and Rob Drummond, college grads celebrating with a windsurfing trip. They were cute. Sue glanced suggestively at Ethel. "Some possibilities here," hovered in the air, unspoken. The boys were just starting their vacations too. Sue and Ethel were pleased. They had two weeks to explore those possibilities. Tonight, for now, was for food and sleep.

Sue yawned, "Yep, that jet lag's hitting me pretty hard."

"I'm feeling it too," Ethel agreed, "Later boys?"

"We'll be doing some windsurfing 'tween here and the main island," the tow-haired one, Barrett, grinned, "but we can hook up later this week?"

"I'd like that," Sue smiled back.

The two women settled into bed. Sue just had time to anticipate the coming days before the jet lag took over. The women were out for twelve hours.

****

The creature glided through the ocean. Its motion exemplified all the strength and grace evolution gave it and its kind. Its appearance would send orgasms through the scientists, Teuthologists who specialized in its study.

The creature's species, by no means rare, spent the bulk of their lives in deep, dark places, barely accessible to humans, if at all.

Only a few knew of these creatures; fewer still could claim they saw one. None were believed.

Its purpose was an act according to its nature. It happened among its kind only rarely but with biological clockwork. The time window for what it needed was narrow, only a week or two.

The island had changed since its last visit. New dwellings dotted the shore. The new development didn't please the creature, as it meant more of the apes lived on the island. It increased the danger of discovery.

It chose a deserted stretch of beach. The creature liked this area. It used this place before. The apes, in times past, used to beach their fishing logs here. It was perfect, reasonably isolated. The increased number of dwellings, while dangerous, meant an ape was more like to wander by.

The creature swam to a position close to the shoreline and used its tentacles to burrow into the sand.

The creature dug until most of its body was concealed, leaving its eyes just above the water. It extended its tentacles under the sand to the shore.

The tentacles, honed by millions of years of evolution, moved with an ease akin to flowing through liquid. Observers would be stunned; a study of the tentacles would revolutionize drilling, if ever such a creature were captured.

Chromatophoric camouflage allowed the creature to blend effortlessly into the sand. Tiny hairs on its body acted as motion detectors. All it needed was to settle in for a light sleep . . . and wait.

****

"So Sue, what'd you think of the towhead?"

"Kind of cute but I like the red-haired guy better."

"I like him too and don't Aussies have the best accents?"

"It was fun listening to them talk."

The women walked along Pearl Beach, an isolated area, and talked about last night. The sleep did them good. They'd woken, showered, exercised (at Ethel's insistence. Some curls on her part, Pilates crunches for both), and breakfasted in the main building. The surfers were off on their trip. The pensioners and the family left for the larger island.

"I guess we have the island to ourselves for the day," Ethel said.

The concierge suggested Pearl Beach, a small strip on the west shore. "Just a short walk through the tunnels, past the pool. It's a good place to sunbathe, and good for privacy."

The women carried the bare minimum. Sue wore a yellow and red polka-dotted bikini. Ethel, a light blue and white one piece. The suits looked painted on their respective figures. A pair of beach blankets, a pack of wine coolers, and a bottle of suntan oil completed the pack.

"This beach is so beautiful," remarked Ethel, and Sue agreed.

Pristine sands, near white in the sun, darkened to beige at the surf. The beach was a curved bowl, ringed by ancient lava cliffs and lush jungle. The sea gleamed like an azure jewel. Sue rarely gazed upon such beauty.

"This looks like a good spot, Sue."

"As good as any."

The spot was the middle arc of the bowl, with the beach curved equidistant on either side. The pair spread the blankets, set down the other gear, and prepared to lay out. Ethel stopped and looked around.

"Something wrong Aunt Ethel?"

"No, just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Why are we wearing the suits?"

Sue cocked an eyebrow, "Is that a serious question?"

"It's a clothing optional resort, most everybody's off the island, the beach is isolated. We waxed and lasered our bodies for a reason, Sue. I'm not shy, you know that, and how often do we get an opportunity for an all-over tan?"

"Makes sense," Sue agreed, noting how just a few years earlier, she would be more hesitant. "Aunt's influence; Mom and Dad would have strokes."

Ethel peeled off her suit, baring her muscular body to the tropical sun. She wasn't really bulky like some of her other body building friends, Sue noted. Ethel preferred a more streamlined look. She confided to Susan, once, she disdained some of her colleagues attempts to become, "Female Schwartzeneggers, 'sniff!' Yes, we should build and show our muscles, but we should still be women. Getting too large is just excess."

Aunt Ethel, with her hair pulled back and her strong features, evoked the classic Amazons of myth. "And she's one for real," admired Sue.

Sue untied her top and bottoms, and tossed them to the sand. Ethel privately admired her niece's curvy, toned body. "All that exercise did her good." She didn't have her aunt's muscles but sure her body was fit. "She's perfect for the cover of Fitness, if not Playboy," thought Ethel, "The Brown women always looked good."

Ethel also liked the Brown women's tendencies toward large breasts and asses, an ample voluptuousness extending back generations. She estimated Sue's breasts as a cup size larger than her own.

After standing in the warm tropical sun for several minutes, the women started with the suntan oil. They made sure to slather their bodies and got each others' backs.

"Damn! Those two surfers would blow their pipes if they saw us like this," Ethel grinned.

"Heh! Any red-blooded male would, and probably a couple of actresses I know, too."

The two Browns shined with oil, muscles and curves defined in the sunlight.

"Well, let's get to it," Ethel said, "A half hour per side maybe?"

"Seems okay."

They spread the blankets and prepared to lay down, Ethel on her back, Sue on her front.

"Sue, what's that?"

"Huh?"

"There. That thing in the water."

Sue turned and looked. It was just at the water's edge. The surf rolled back and forth around it. "Is that a flower?"

It stood at a slight droop in the wet sand. Its color was red, like a ruby, and mottled with gold. The petals resembled fingers, unmoving.

"It doesn't look like a flower. Hey! Maybe it's an anemone," Ethel suggested. She strode towards it.

"I thought anemones stayed around coral reefs," Sue said.

"So did I. Maybe it's a new species. Hey! We might get famous, ha!"

"Well careful. It might be poisonous."

"You're talking about jellyfish, Sue," Ethel knelt down to touch it.

It happened with such split second speed, the women had no time for surprise; an explosion of sand and water, as if a land mine went off.

Ethel gasped and drew back, bringing her arms up to cover her eyes . . . or at least she tried. "What . . .?!" Something held down her arms. She blinked; a long, thick, red rope was wrapped tight around her hands, binding them. The end of the rope, the "anemone," revealed itself as an undulating tentacle, the "petals" actually four smaller tentacles, studded with tiny suckers. They writhed like the fingers of a fidgety child, and ringed a tiny mouth which closed and opened menacingly.

The other end of the tentacle terminated in the sand next to her left foot, just under the surf.

Ethel was too stunned to feel fear. Sue didn't move, paralyzed by shock. Silence and menace hung in the air. Ethel turned her head, slowly, towards her niece. "Uh, Sue?" Tentacles exploded from the sand.

"What the fuck!" yelled Ethel.

"Shit!" cried Sue.

Ethel tried to pull back again, flexing her arms to free her wrists. The tentacle was wrapped tight.

"Sue! A little help he . . . gasp! Ugh! Fucking shit!"

Ethel's gasp, grunt, and following profanity originated from shock and outrage. The said emotions stemmed from four simultaneous actions by the attacking tentacles.

The first tentacle, twined around her leg and wrists, planted its fingered tip squarely on her melon. It's twin, simultaneously, covered the other one. The creature's mouths fit almost perfect to her nipples. The fingers flexed and began to pump. The mouths opened and began to suck.

Under different circumstances, such molestation would result in immediate and horrific injuries, accompanied by excruciating agony, to the offender. The broken limbs and crushed testicles of the occasional unfortunate male, who'd dared take such liberties on Ethel "Martha the Mauler" Brown bore testament to their folly.

Ethel, at the moment, ignored the tentacle boob grope. Her current attention focused on the lower outrage. Two tentacles, rising from the sand, had deep dived into her pussy and ass. Ethel "Martha The Mauler" Brown, former star roller girl, aka Brunhilde Brown, former Women's Wrestling Federation champion, expectorated the typical response.

"Rrrraaaarrrgh! Get the fuck out of me you tentacled monster freaks! Sue! Get your fucking ass over here! Sue!"

"I can't Aunt Ethel! They got me too!"

When Sue saw the tentacles attack her aunt, she immediately got off her towel. "Aunt needs help!" She hadn't noticed the tentacle around her arm, until it wrenched her body back. "Wha . . . fuck?!"

She turned to deal with the offender. Another tentacle burst up to plant its "hand" on her left double D.

"Yaaahhh!" Sue grasped the molester and tugged frantically. Boof! Another tentacle erupted from the sand and fastened to her other breast. "Fuuuuck!" Something probed at her pussy, with a finger entering her bunghole. "Oh no you fucking don't!"

She reached back to remove the violating appendage. Two new tentacles burst, one entrapped her free arm, the other bound her free leg. Sue was on her hands and knees, arms and legs bound, boobs pumped, and ass and pussy plumbed.

"Oh! Fuck! I'm trapped Aunt Ethel! It's in my pussy! Oh! God! It's . . . aaaarrgh! It's . . . Oh! . . . On my clit! Aaaaahhh!"

"I'm . . . uuughn . . . not in . . . a good spot . . . oh . . . fuck! Myself . . . Sue!"

Ethel stood, with her legs widespread by the tentacles. The two invaders penetrated deep between her crack and into her flower. They pumped and plumbed, causing gasps of outrage and horror. Ethel's breasts morphed with each squeeze, accompanied by soft sucking sounds.

She gasped and growled, frustrated, unable to free her bound wrists. Strong as Ethel was, she couldn't compete against a creature used to swimming long distances, at crushing depths. The creature, by its standards, was gentle. Its tentacles could crush cars.

Ethel's struggling body gleamed in the sun. Her muscles tense and defined in the sweat and oil of her exertions. Her frustration reflected by the mortified look etched on her face, with healthy doses of rage.

Ethel's muscles, from groin to torso, rippled. She'd fucked enough men in her life to know what that meant. She growled and shook her head, trying to force it back. Her eyes lit upon the thing in the water. "F-f-fuck . . . Sue! It's . . . a squid!"

"W-w-what? Aunt . . . Ethel?! Oh! Ugh! Oh f-f-fuck! I'm . . . f-f-fucking wet! It's playing . . . with my clit! Aaauugh!"