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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2307266
The Blue Man is an original "legend" about a watery monster that drowns people
Looking like a caricature of an American tourist, complete with white shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and a straw hat, with a camera slung around his neck, Colin Klein followed the bellhop into the second-floor room of the Blue Man Motel.

“If you don’t mind me asking?” said Klein, a tall, lean man with flaming red hair, “how did the hotel get its name? The Blue Man?” Looking around the rather gaudily painted puce green walls of the single-bed room, he thought: It ain’t because of the paint job! Most of the areas Klein had seen of the hotel were puce green, orange, or an almost midway between henna and burgundy colour.

“Oh, it’s a local legend,” said the teenager, depositing the two suitcases near the small bed. “Something to do with a rain demon or water monster or something. Like most U.K. legends it’s as fuzzy as pictures of the Loch Ness monster.”

“Old Nessie? She’s a little too clichéd for what I’m looking for. I’m hoping to find rarer, more exotic legends.”

“What for?” asked the teenager, nodding thanks as he was given a two-pound tip.

“For my book. I’m an investigative reporter. During my long service leave, I’m doing the rounds of U.K. pubs and locals, looking for exotic legends to put into a hardback book … I hope.”

“Well, I wish I could tell you more about the Blue Man,” said the teenager, whose nametag identified him as Tulio. “But it’s a pretty obscure legend. Old-timers swear that the Blue Man can leap out of the waves at you, so you should only swim in concrete pools around these parts.”

“So it’s a saltwater demon?”

“I guess so,” agreed Tulio, with a broad grin.

Rubbing a hand across his sticky brow, Colin Klein asked: “Speaking of which, do you have a pool at this place?”

“For sure we do,” said Tulio, leading Klein across to the window where he pointed. “Just outside your room.”

As he pointed, a beautiful blonde in a minute bikini bent over to dive in, pointing her perfect heart-shaped rear end toward them.

Grabbing his camera, Colin Klein snapped a quick picture, just before she disappeared into the pool.

Grinning at the teenager, Colin Klein said: “That’ll make a good lead in pic to the chapter on the Blue Man.”

“It’d make a great pic for the front cover of your book,” said Tulio, grinning back at the forty-eight-year-old reporter. "Hell, that's what I call a happy snap."



A group of twenty-somethings lounged around the concrete pool as the tall blonde stood upon the aquamarine tiles upon the two-foot high edge of the pool, bent forward to dive.

“That’s it, Bekkie, shake your stuff,” cried her boyfriend, Petie.

Doing as instructed, the blonde gave her perfect behind a suggestive wiggle before diving. Unaware that Colin Klein was snapping her picture.

“Smile,” said Petie, a thin dark-haired man of twenty, who looked more like seventeen.

“She can’t with that end,” said a gangly redheaded teen, Bekkie’s younger sister, Viv.

“She could if she dropped her bikini bottom,” teased Petie.

“Don’t be obscene,” said Viv.

“There’s nothing obscene about it, “ protested Petie.

“Yeah,” agreed his brother, Lon, “why do you think painters have painted women naked throughout human history?”

“Because most painters are men.”

“Correct,” agreed Lon, bursting into braying laughter. Turning to Petie, he said: “There’s no fooling her.”

Both men chortled with laughter.



In the swimming pool, Bekkie did a lazy backstroke, unaware of the teasing Viv was being subjected to.

Suddenly pressing up hard against another object, she started to apologise. Then looking round, saw that there was no one else in the pool.

“That’s funny,” she said, starting as soft hands began to stroke her thighs and backside.

“Petie! Stop being a lecherous idiot!” she cried, thinking that he had joined her in the pool. Then, as the probing hands became increasingly insistent, Bekkie tried to brush them away, saying: “Not here, anyone can see us.”

Although no narrow-minded prig, Bekkie did not share Petie’s avowed fantasy of making love in a crowded swimming pool, without anyone knowing what they were doing.

As the hands became more rapid, more demanding, Bekkie laughed, half prepared to submit to Petie’s aquatic fantasy.

Then, with an upward splash, the water before her broke to reveal not Petie standing before her. But a seven-foot tall, man-shaped creature, gushing pool water, which spewed from him like a man composed of sprinklers.

“Who …? What …?” cried Bekkie, trying to back tread the water as the Blue Man grinned lasciviously at the blonde.



“What the hell?” said Colin Klein, as he and Tulio stared down in horror as the Blue Man menaced Bekkie.

“That can’t be what it …?” said Tulio, rubbing at his brown eyes with his knuckles.

Unaware that he was even doing so, Colin Klein snapped off two quick pictures of Bekkie and the Blue Man. Then dropped his camera onto the bed. Turning, he almost collided with the bellhop in his haste to leave the motel room.



Reaching out his long, watery arms (which gushed water as he stretched out), toward the blonde, the Blue Man grabbed Bekkie and pulled her hard against himself.

“No! Don’t!” called Bekkie, thinking that the creature intended to rape her.

“Bekkie! Are you all right?” called Petie, as he and the other young people climbed to their feet to go to her aide if necessary.

The Blue Man opened his watery mouth, to unleash a great watery tendril, which raced toward Bekkie. Then, as she opened her mouth to scream, the column of water burst through her lips, into her mouth, to roar down her throat, in a crude parody of oral sex.

Rapidly, litre after litre of the Blue Man poured into Bekkie’s mouth, down her throat, as against her will, the blonde swallowed the Blue Man completely into her stomach and lungs.

Hearing running footsteps, the young people turned as Colin Klein risked falling upon the gravel path leading from the motel to the pool, by running flat-out despite having thongs on his feet.

“Stop him, for God’s sake!” cried Klein as he and Tulio raced toward the group of gawking teens and twenty-somethings.

“Stop ... who!” demanded Petie, as the redheaded man raced across toward the pool.

“The Blue Man!” cried Colin Klein as, in the pool, Bekkie began to cough, splatter, and then rapidly drown upon the watery mass of the Blue Man. Which had invaded her lungs, despite her failed efforts to vomit him back up.

“The Blue Man, but that’s only …?” said Petie, as Bekkie began thrashing wildly in the pool water.

“What the …?” said Viv, as her dying sister began to vomit up vast amounts of water. Finally fully regurgitating the Blue Man, which reformed in front of the small crowd.

For precious life-costing seconds, they stood staring into the pool. Then as the Blue Man dissolved into the pool water, they finally moved into action.

“Bekkie!” cried Petie racing across to dive into the pool as the blonde sank backwards into the water, slowly sinking below the surface with a great outrush of air from her mouth.

“Come on!” cried a tall, leggy brunette, Serina, leaping into the pool, closely followed by Viv and their boyfriends.

“Phone 999!” Colin Klein instructed Tulio, before leaping fully dressed into the pool to help with the rescue attempt.

“For God’s sake, help me!” cried Petie, as Klein and the others reached them.

Between them, Colin Klein, Petie, and Serina managed to drag Bekkie’s limp body back toward the pool’s edge.

Leaping out of the pool, Klein instructed: “Get her onto the ledge.” Then, as the others watched on, Klein pressed down repeatedly on the blonde’s chest, while Serina tried blowing air into her mouth.

Even as Tulio raced back to tell them that an ambulance was on the way, they could hear sirens rapidly approaching.

Colin Klein and Serina continued to attempt to resuscitate Bekkie without success.

Finally, they heard running footsteps across the red gravel path behind them.

“Stand back!” called a black paramedic, and he and another man took over the resuscitation attempt.

By the time that the police arrived fifteen minutes later, the paramedics had given up and had transferred Bekkie's lifeless corpse to the ambulance.

"I ... I'm so sorry," said the black paramedic, Derek, as he climbed into the back of the ambulance; pulling the door shut behind him.



Half an hour later Colin Klein, Serina, and the others were seated around the hotel foyer drinking iced tea as Chief Inspector Geoffrey Tennyson attempted to discover what that happened.

"I don't want to be heartless," said the inspector, a bald-headed man in his mid-fifties, with more than a passing resemblance to Telly Sevallas. Colin Klein half expected him to take a Chupa-Chup from his vest pocket, say, "Who loves you baby?" and stick the Chupa-Chup into his mouth. Instead, the Chief Inspector said: "But what exactly happened?"

Klein, Tulio, Petie, and the others exchanged guilty looks for a moment, as though co-conspirators in an Agatha Christie-style round-robin murder.

Finally, Colin Klein said: "She was killed by the Blue Man."

"The Blue Man?" repeated Chief Inspector Tennyson.

"It's a local myth," said Tulio.

"I know all about the Blue Man legend," said Tennyson, looking around the small gathering as though he were starting to think of them as suspects in a round-robin murder. "But you surely don't expect me to believe that the Blue Man is real ..."

"Oh he's ... it's real all right," said Petie.

"Damn right," agreed Tulio.

Ignoring the interruption, the Chief Inspector said: "You can't really expect me to believe that the Blue Man killed Rebekah Hartley? He's a myth for God's sake!"

"No, he's real," insisted Colin Klein. "We all saw it kill Rebekah."

"That's right," agreed Tulio.

"We all saw it," Serina said, almost sobbing the words out.

"I know it's hard to believe; it sounds insane," said Colin Klein running a hand through his unruly mop of red hair. "But it's true."

"And you are?" asked Tennyson.

"Colin Klein," he identified himself, taking his press card from his shirt pocket, to show the card to the inspector.

"Reporter?" asked Tennyson.

"Afraid so," said Klein with a half smile.

"You got here quickly!"

"I was staying at the hotel. I'm on long service leave. I'm researching a book upon local legends."

"Then you were in luck today, weren't you," said Tennyson sneeringly. "I don't suppose you staged this whole thing to get free publicity for your book?"

"I hope you aren't accusing me of murdering Miss Hartley?" asked Klein angrily. "I know my rights, Chief Inspector!"

"It wasn't him, it was the Blue Man, dammit," said Viv, speaking for the first time.

"Calm down, please, miss," said Tennyson. "I'm not accusing Mr Klein, or for that matter anyone, of killing your sister. It's just that ..."

"That you didn't see it kill her," finished Petie. "As we all did.

Colin Klein and the others all nodded their agreement.

"Exactly," agreed Tennyson. He continued with the interrogation for another half hour, growing increasingly frustrated. Until Tulio said:

"What about the pictures?"

"Pictures?" asked Tennyson.

Suddenly remembering, Colin Klein said: "I snapped off a couple of pictures of the Blue Man from my room, before racing downstairs."



Forty minutes later Colin Klein and Geoffrey Tennyson were standing around in a small blue-walled office at the local police station, looking at three photos. One of Rebekah Hartley's perfect heart-shaped bottom. The other two of the Blue Man menacing the blonde.

"How do you explain these?" asked Klein, now feeling guilty for taking the first photo.

"I ... I can't," admitted Tennyson. "Your photos are better than most journalists can take."

"Clearer than I had dared hope for," agreed Klein.



Still dazed from the shock of Bekkie's death, Petie, Serina, and the others returned to their rooms in the hotel. Viv and Petie had been given strong sedatives, but Serina had refused.

Stepping from the red-carpeted hallway to her green-carpeted room, Serina headed toward the yellow-draped bed, then stopped. Taking her face in her hands, she ran a hand through her long dark hair, trying not to burst into tears. Finally, she turned toward the en-suite, saying aloud: "What I need is a hot shower to wash away my hurting."

"Good idea," agreed a gorgeous blonde Sylvia, one of her two roommates.

Undressing in the middle of the bedroom, the tall brunette strode naked toward the en-suite. Her beautiful bottom swayed gently with the natural rhythm of her hips as she walked.

Checking that there was a towel on the handrail, Serina pulled open the sliding glass door and stepped into the shower cubicle. She closed the door again, then turned on the tap warily. Despite the hotel manager's claim that the shower was adjusted so that the water was never too hot and never too cold. I've heard that before, thought Serina, remembering being badly scolded in a shower, after being told the same story a couple of years back.

She had shampooed her long black hair, her eyes tightly clenched, and was rinsing her hair, when she felt the soft, almost feminine hands caressing her breasts and behind.

"Clive!" she called, thinking that her fiancé had somehow sneaked into the cubicle, despite not hearing the glass doors slide open or closed.



Lying upon her bed, trying unsuccessfully to read the English Woman's Day, Sylvia looked around as the door to the corridor opened. A young Asian woman, not quite five feet tall entered the room.

"Swan-Li," said Sylvia by way of greeting.

"Sylv," replied Swan Li. Hearing running water, she looked toward the en-suite and asked: "How is she doing?"

"Serina?' asked the young blonde sighing. Then as the Asian girl nodded, "I'm not sure. It's a shock to all of us, Bekkie being ... " She left the statement unfinished, then said, "It's probably worse for her and Petie since they tried and failed to resuscitate her."

"Yeah," agreed Swan-Li, walking across to her bed, around which were faced two large sunlamps. Opening a drawer in her bedside cabinet, she removed a beach towel, which she laid out on her bed, before turning on the sunlamps.

"You aren't going to use those things?" asked Sylvia.

"Of course."

"But it's ninety degrees out," pointed out the blonde. "Go outside and save electricity."

"What, and risk being sunburnt?"



As she reached around for her towel, the soft hands continued caressing Serina's shapely naked body.

"Hold up, Clive lad," said the young brunette, using the towel to wipe the water from her eyes. "Not so soon after Bekkie's ... Bekkie's death."

As the hands became more insistent in their caresses, Serina opened her eyes and stared in horror at the Blue Man, looking like a pale blue Mannequin, filled with swirling water.

"What ...?" cried the brunette, staring at the translucent parody of a human being, which grinned lasciviously as it continued to caress her wet naked body with its cold watery hands.

The Blue Man seemed to be trying to laugh, although no sound came from it, except a wave-like slop-slopping from the water swirling around inside it. Water which ran in streams down its watery form and burst like geysers from it, continuously giving off its watery essence. Which streamed down to the shower floor, only to swirl up into the creature's feet and legs again.

"Get the Hell out!" shouted Serina, trying to push the Blue Man away from her.

As her hands sank uselessly into the liquid depths of his chest, the Blue Man opened its mouth. And out shot a long blue tongue-like tendril of water, which plunged in through the lips of the naked brunette. As the Blue Man began its lethal parody of oral sex.

"Nok ..." gasped Serina, trying to refuse this watery violation. Unsuccessfully.

Again she tried to push away the Blue Man ... Without success.

Finally, she attempted to shut her jaws to refuse the unwanted penetration ... again without success. Despite its watery composition, the Blue Man had the strength of a Samson and managed to hold her mouth open with its liquid tendril of death.



Looking up from her sun bed, Swan-Li exchanged a look with Sylvia, then sat up on the bed and called: "Serina? Are you okay?"

As a choking gurgle greeted her question, the two young women leapt to their feet and raced across toward the en-suite.



Placing the second and third photos into a manila folder, Chief Inspector Geoffrey Tennyson escorted Colin Klein out of the office and downstairs toward a blue-and-white panda car.

"Where to now Chief Inspector," asked a young blonde WPC at the wheel of the car.

"The Blue Man Motel," said Tennyson as he and Klein entered the panda. Then to Klein: "Let's see if the others verify that the pix are what they saw kill Rebekah Hartley?"

"Okay," said Colin Klein, "but be careful with Petie and Serina. They're at breaking point already."

"Of course," agreed Tennyson as the panda car started up. "We're not totally insensitive morons at Scotland Yard."

"No ... not totally," agreed Klein, drawing a giggle from the WPC and a glare from Tennyson.



The Panda Car arrived at the Blue Man Motel just as Swan-Li and Sylvia started toward the en-suite to see if Serina was all right.

Taking the two photos from the folder as the two men approached the front desk of the glass-fronted motel, Tennyson said: "Who should we start with?"

"Well ..." said Colin Klein, stopping as a shrill screaming rang out from the first storey.

"Come on," said Klein racing across to the stairs, to run up two steps at a time to the next landing.

As Klein and Tennyson reached the landing. they could hear screams emanating from room 107.



Pushing open the door to the en-suite Swan-Li and Sylvia stopped, staring at the sight of Serina seemingly nine months pregnant, belly bulging, lying on the grey-tiled floor of the shower cubicle.

"Serina!" cried Sylvia, almost as shocked by the sight of her swollen belly as by the fact that she was unconscious ... possibly even dead.

"She wasn't ... isn't pregnant?" Swan-Li asked the blonde. But before Sylvia could answer, Serina's mouth flopped open wide.

"Well, at least she's," began Sylvia, stopping as a great watery eruption suddenly spewed from Serina's mouth.

Both women screamed in terror and backed out of the en-suite as the projectile vomited spray began to take on a humanoid shape. Like a blue genie solidifying from smoke gushing from a magic lamp. But instead of a genie offering three wishes, the watery spray transformed into the Blue Man. Offering Swan-Li and Sylvia only seduction and death.



"This way," called Colin Klein racing across to try the door to room 107. Then, with the help of Chief Inspector Tennyson, he began trying to shoulder open the door.

As the door finally imploded, the two men all but fell into the room.

Where they saw the two young women clutching each other, shaking in terror, a few metres away from the door to the en-suite. Pushing the door open, they saw the Blue Man smiling his watery smirk, standing over the corpse of Serina. Who seemed to be deep-throating the creature's feet, which still had not fully emerged from the brunette's body.

"Shit in a hand basket!" said Tennyson, no longer able to doubt the reality of the two photos, or the crazy story that Klein and the others had told him about Rebekah Hartley's murder.

As the Blue Man, gushing swirling rivulets of water, fully extracted itself from Serina's body, then stepped from the en-suite and into the bedroom, Colin Klein called to the two women:

"Get out of here, right now!"

Swan-Li and Sylvia, still locked in each other's arms, backed toward Swan-Li's bed, as the Blue Man started after them, smirking its shit-eater grin.

Then as the two women almost backed into one of the two sunlamps, the Blue Man suddenly stopped smirking, and it ceased following them. Looking confused, even horrified, as it looked at the sunlamp. Suddenly turning, it started after Klein and Tennyson instead.

Without thinking, the two men backed across toward where Swan-Li and Sylvia stood near the large sunlamp.

For a moment the Blue Man started after them. Then as the four people grouped together, the creature stopped again. This time the terror on its watery countenance was unmistakeable.

"What's wrong, it looks scared!" said Chief Inspector Geoffrey Tennyson.

Colin Klein looked around the three-bed room for a moment. Then seeing the glaring sunlamps, he said: "It's those. He must be afraid of the heat from the lamps."

To test his theory, the redheaded reporter grabbed one of the lamps. Holding it out before himself, Klein began advancing toward the Blue Man.

Which unmistakably backed away in terror.

"You're right," said Geoffrey Tennyson. He raced around the bed to grab the other sunlamp.

"Of course," said Klein as the Blue Man continued to back away toward an open window.

"What?"

"Heat evaporates water."

"Which that thing is made of."

"Exactly," said Klein. Then seeing where the Blue Man was headed: "Don't let it make it to the window to escape outside!"

As the two men advanced upon the Blue Man, Sylvia, and Swan-Li, still clutching each other for comfort, managed to shamble out into the red-carpeted corridor.

Where a crowd of twenty-plus had gathered to watch on in amazement and terror.

Hearing the crowd behind them, Colin Klein called out: "Shut the bloody door, so it can't escape into the hallway."

Reluctantly the crowd did as instructed, leaving Klein and Tennyson alone in the bedroom with the Blue Man.

"Get around behind him, so he can't get out through the window," called Colin Klein.

Used to obeying orders, the Chief Inspector did as instructed, and the two men began closing in upon the Blue Man from different sides.

Small rivulets swirling from its face and body, the Blue Man looked around the room for a means of escape. It started toward the door to the en-suite.

"No you don't!" called Klein, dancing around the creature to the en-suite door. Which he slammed shut. "You're not getting away so easily!"

"Got 'im," said Geoffrey Tennyson, as Klein danced backward to shield the door to the corridor from the Blue Man.

Realising that it was trapped, the Blue Man wrinkled its watery face the best that it was able to, as though trying to snarl at the redheaded journalist. But no sound emanated from its watery lungs, except for a shallow swishing like the susurration of the night ocean from a distance.

"All right, let's close in on the thing," said Colin Klein. Then the two men started toward the creature: "Slowly. Be careful. It might be scared, but it's still potentially lethal."

Nearly five minutes passed and the two men did their best not to be too anxious, as they advanced centimetre-by-centimetre upon the Blue Man from both directions at once, holding the sunlamps before them like VORPAL blades of old.

As they neared the creature, the Blue Man hissed softly, as though his water tongue had finally found voice. But as the water vapour began gushing from the creature, reducing it, weakening it, the two men realised that it was the hissing of its watery substance evaporating away.

"It's working!" called Geoffrey Tennyson as the liquid hissing continued.

"Slowly does it," warned Colin Klein as they continued to advance upon the watery fiend. Which hissed, sizzled, boiled, and gradually reduced in size as its bulk steamed away, to form part of a silvery-grey water cloud that had begun to form near the ceiling of the hotel room.

"Well, that's the end of it," said Inspector Tennyson.

"I wonder?' said Colin Klein, watching the small grey-blue cloud as it slowly drifted across the ceiling toward a small opening at the top of the window.

"How do you mean?"

"I'm not sure," admitted the redheaded reporter. Unable to explain a nagging doubt at the back of his head. "Maybe it just seemed too easy."



Despite being mid-summer, the next day was pouring rain when Viv awakened, a common summer occurance in London. Despite being distraught at her sister, Bekkie's death, Viv told herself, Life must go on.

As much to take her mind off Bekkie as anything else, she draped herself in a yellow plastic Mac and a see-through umbrella, that came right down over her face and neck, to keep away as much of the London weather as possible. Before setting out for her usual three-kilometre walk before breakfast.

"You're not going out in that?" said Swan-Li yawning widely in the burgundy coloured corridor, as Viv walked toward her. She thumbed back toward her room, as though it were transparent and Viv could see the pelting rain through it.

"I'm well rugged up, Mum," teased Viv, pointing to her yellow gumboots, and yellow Mac.

"Well, keep to the footpaths," advised Swan-Li. "Even in yellow motorists might not see you in the rain."

"Yes, Mum," teased Viv, her words almost drowned out by the machine-gun-like rata-tat-tat of water pounding upon the corrugated-iron roof of the motel.

As Swan-Li watched, her brow furrowed in worry, the redheaded teen walked past the elevators and started towards the stairwell.



Viv walked out onto the puddle-strewn gravel path and started out onto the bitumen footpath, towards the opposite end of town. She had reached the Red Devil Inn, a local public house, and considered stopping for a quick nip of brandy to warm herself up.

Then as the ratta-tat-tat became a ululation of almost flood-level rain, she thought, I might be trapped in there all day! The village sloped on a steady decline from the Blue Man motel to the Red Devil Inn.

Better get back while I can, she decided. Turning, she started up the now slippery bitumen path, glad that it was not concrete. Although slick, the bitumen still allowed traction for the rubber soles of her Wellington boots.

"Oh, Lord!" said Viv aloud, having to fight a mighty headwind and slanting, pelting rain. Each step was now a near Herculean task.



At the Blue Man motel, Colin Klein was finishing his breakfast, cafe-style raisin toast and breakfast marmalade, when he saw Tulio, the bellhop, leading Geoffrey Tennyson over to his table.

"Join me," said Klein by way of greeting.

"No thanks, I wanted to show you something."

"Something to do with the Blue Man?" asked Klein, a sudden chill running through his spine.

"Yes," agreed the Scotland Yard Chief Inspector. And the two men started through the small dining room toward the foyer. Where four burly policemen were carefully moving a large clear-glass cylinder, attached to which were various pumps and wires.



Viv had started to think that she was losing the battle to walk up the steeply sloping street. When she caught a brief glimpse of the gravel paved car park of the Blue Man motel.

"Thank the Lord," said the redhead aloud, as the torrential rain began thump-thump-thumping against her umbrella with enough force to make her fear that the rain had turned to hail.

Without even realising that she had stopped, Viv looked up and saw thick, blue globules of sputum-like material adhering to the top of the umbrella. Almost as though someone or something was spitting great dollops of Phlegm at her from above.

"What the ...?" said Viv. But even as she spoke, the pale blue globs began to form together taking on weight and bulk, until the plastic umbrella collapsed, flooding the redheaded teen with torrential rain and the blue phlegm.

Blue phlegm, which began to take on bulk and shape, as it slowly expanded outwards and upwards. Taking on the humanoidal shape of the Blue Man, who grinned lustfully at the teenager.

"Oh," said Viv. Suddenly aware that her life was about to go out with a whimper, not with a bang, as the Blue Man wrapped his watery arms around her in his embrace of death.



"So what is it?" asked Colin Klein, staring at the clear glass tube in the motel foyer. "It looks like one of the freezing tubes aliens always used to contain their captives in 1960s Sci-Fi shows, like The Invaders or Lost in Space."

"Not far wrong," said Chief Inspector Tennyson. "This is a freezing tube from the local university. I've commandeered it in case we haven't seen the last of that blue devil."

Can you have a watery devil? wondered Colin Klein.

"If he reappears we can condense him to rain clouds again, then suck him into this, then -," pointing at an apparatus attached to one of the rubber tubes -. "Freeze him with liquid nitrogen."

"How do you evaporate him again?"

"With these," said Tennyson, picking up one of three metal sunflowers. Much lighter, much more manageable versions of Swan-Li's sun lamps.

"So now comes the obvious question," said the redheaded man. "How do you get that heavy apparatus, needing four men to budge it, into the right spot at the right time, if and when the Blue Man reappears?"

"So far the blue devil has centred his activities upon the motel that bears his name. So the idea is to keep that apparatus in the foyer, with four strong men in attendance, night and day until that monster reappears."

"And if he doesn't reappear?"

"After three or four weeks, if it doesn't return by then, the uni. can have their machine back."

"I don't know what the management will say about having that thing parked in their foyer for three or four weeks," said Colin Klein.

"Don't worry about that. I've already squared it with them. It's less bad for their business than having that blue creature slaughtering their residents on after another."

They were still discussing the freezing tube twenty minutes later, by which time the torrential rain outside had stopped. And bright sunshine started to bathe the motel in a cheery yellow aura.

Hearing the elevator doors whoosh open, the two men looked around as Sylvia, dressed in a skimpy yellow bikini, hardly more than a stringkini, which made her look as good as naked, stepped out into the foyer.

"You're a hardy Londoner indeed," said Klein, fighting to keep his eyes focused on her face. "It's barely stopped raining and already you're going to sunbathe?"

"In this country, you have to take every fleeting hint of sunlight that you can get," said the gorgeous blonde.

"Indeed," murmured Tennyson, unlike Klein, unable to make his eyes go up to the level of her face, as she turned and started across the green-carpeted foyer.

She had almost reached the door when shrill screams rang out from the car park outside.

"Come on," cried Colin Klein, racing across the foyer toward the glass double doors.

Struggling to take his eyes away from Sylvia's glorious near-nakedness, Tennyson shouted, "Leave that thing," as he raced outside after Colin Klein.

Having started to wheel the heavy freezing tube across the foyer, the four policemen abandoned it and raced after Klein and Tennyson.



Outside they found an elderly lady with a walking frame -- the screamer apparently -- being comforted by members of a small crowd of people, which had begun to gather in the gravel-paved car park.

"What is it ...?" began Klein, stopping at the sight of the bloated corpse of Viv. Her belly distended in an obscene parody of pregnancy.

"Get back!" shouted Tennyson. And on command, the crowd dispersed in a panic as Viv's mouth suddenly flopped open wide.

"Watch out!" cried Petie, and the crowd stampeded toward the motel as a great flood of water fountained upwards from Viv's mouth. Litre after litre of living, blue water, ejecting itself from the redheaded teen's body as though jet-propelled, to almost burst from the dead girl's mouth, to rapidly transform into the grinning figure of the watery Blue Man.

Colin Klein half expected its evilly grinning mouth to say, I'm ba-ack!

"Any advice?" shouted a young baby-faced constable, as the Blue Man grinned almost lasciviously at them.

"Run like Hell," suggested Colin Klein. And without hesitation, Klein, Tennyson, and the four others raced across the car park. The crunch of the gravel underfoot told them that the others were following suit.

But there was only silence from the Blue Man, so they did not know whether it was pursuing them or not, and no one dared to look back to see, as they raced into the motel that bore the creature's name.

"Inside! Inside!" shouted Colin Klein, the redhead holding the glass doors open for the young policemen. Who were panting from fear and excitement, not fatigue.

As they raced into the green-carpeted foyer, Tulio asked: "What's up?"

"That thing is right behind us," answered Geoffrey Tennyson. Then to his men, "Get that bloody apparatus going."

The young constables hurried to start the freezing tubes, while Tennyson and Klein armed themselves with the metal sunflowers. But as minutes passed, there was no sign of the Blue Man chasing them.

"Where the Hell is it?" asked Tennyson.

Hesitantly, Colin Klein put down the metal sunflower and headed back to the glass front door and looked out across the rain-slickened car park.

"There's no sign of it," said the redheaded man. Half relieved; half disappointed.



Unaware of the furore downstairs, Swan-Li walked across to the bedroom window of her first-floor apartment. With Sylvia outside risking being drenched in another sudden downpour, Swan-Li preferred to play safe and get her tan beneath the two sunlamps.

The beautiful young Asian woman walked across to pull open the bedroom window a few centimetres. Then she turned to head back toward the bed, where she had her two sunlamps already set up.

Suddenly, a few drops of water landed on her shoulders.

Brushing away the droplets, Swan-Li said: "Looks like Sylvia will get drenched outside. It's a good thing that I had the sense to stay indoors where it's safe."

As the water continued to land on her, she turned to close the window again. However, stopped to stare at the sight of water drops coming into the apple-green carpeted suite. Not from above, but from below the window, as though crawling up the outside walls of the motel, in defiance of the laws of gravity. To begin to drip drip drip over the edge of the window sill, to hit the Asian beauty, then to land upon the green carpet near the end of Sylvia's bed.

Swan-Li slowly backed away from the window, not thinking to slam it closed.

The water drips became a spray of cascading water beginning to pour up from the ground outside, then in through the motel window, like a backwards waterfall. The water was falling upwards from the ground, in through the open window to collect upon the age-worn carpet.

Where, at first slowly, then more rapidly, the water began to move upward, still defying gravity, as the Blue Man began to materialise from the feet upwards.

Backing away toward her own bed, Swan-Li stared in silent terror as the Blue Man slowly materialised. Until she collided with one of the sunlamps near her bed, and the shock shattered her reverie and allowed her to start screaming.



In the foyer Colin Klein and Geoffrey Tennyson still held the small sunlamps attached to the evaporation tube. The young bobbies behind them tried to look fearless, without much success.

"We should have realised," said Colin Klein.

"What?" asked the inspector.

"When we evaporated it before. We should have realised that evaporated water goes up and forms rain clouds. Then the clouds release it back to Earth as rainfall."

"You did say that you had nagging doubts," began Chief Inspector Tennyson, as Swan-Li's screams erupted from the next storey.

Heading toward the staircase, Tennyson shouted to the four bobbies: "Get that thing into the lift and follow us as quickly as you can."

"Yes, sir," said the baby-faced bobby, who looked about sixteen, saluting. Before realising that the Scotland Yard chief inspector was halfway up to the first floor already. Colin Klein was not far behind, as the two men took the concrete steps two at a time.

"I'm getting too old for this," said Klein, as they reached the landing. Although he had passed Tennyson on the way up, and held the teak door open for the chief inspector to run into the red-carpeted corridor.

"What number is it ...?" began Tennyson, as Swan-Li's screams rang out from behind them.

"This way," said Klein, glancing around long enough to see that the elevator was coming up behind them.

"Put your shoulder to the door," cried Tennyson.

Before they could do so, however, the door swung open and Swan-Li raced out, colliding with Klein. Who caught her before she could fall over.

Behind them, the elevator doors chinged open and in front of them, they saw the grinning figure of the Blue Man. Water cascaded up and down throughout the form of the creature as though it had its own internal tidal system. Somehow allowing the Blue Man to stand upright like a real man.

As though imitating Bruce Lee in a kung fu flick, the creature raised its right hand and began taunting the two men to attack it.

"Let's get it," said Geoffrey Tennyson. But Klein stopped him, saying:

"No, let's wait for the evaporation thingy."

Behind them, they heard the unwieldy device being pushed along by the four constables.

"We're here, sir," said the baby-faced bobby, as though thinking that they had not heard the rattle-crashing of the device approaching behind them.

Through the open doorway, they saw the Blue Man looking puzzled. Klein and Tennyson now helped with the contraption. Colin Klein pushing, the chief inspector pulling from the front, as they struggled to move the device towards the bedroom.

"Go downstairs," Klein advised Swan-Li, although she had had no intention of doing otherwise, and had already turned to start down the staircase.

"Come on," instructed Tennyson. And with difficulty the six men moved the evaporation tube across the red-carpeted hallway towards the door of the suite shared by the door women.

Where it promptly stuck in the doorway, with the chief inspector in the bedroom with the Blue Man and the others our in the corridor.

"Come on push, dammit," said Geoffrey Tennyson from inside the bedroom. While Colin Klein and the four policemen out in the corridor strained to force the heavy device through the doorway.

In front of the five men, the Blue Men backed away slightly but continued to stare in puzzlement at these strange goings on. Despite being wary of Tennyson and Klein who had bested the creature previously, its natural curiosity got the better of it. And, as though going to help, the Blue Man started across the carpeted suite toward where the five men were straining in the doorway.

"Look out!" warned Colin Klein, fearing that the creature was sneaking up on Tennyson. Then as the five men slammed themselves against the contraption, it suddenly slid through into the bedroom.

"Get that plugged in and turned on," ordered Tennyson, pointing towards a power point beside Swan-Li's bed.

Then, as the Blue Man continued to approach him from behind, Tennyson stepped into the gap between the two beds. Then, to the surprise of Klein and the others, the chief inspector suddenly leapt up onto Sylvia's bed.

"What are you...?" began Klein, stopping as Tennyson headed toward the open window and quickly slid it closed, forestalling any attempts by the Blue Man to exit the way that it had entered the room.

"All right, here goes," said the baby-faced bobby, switching the evaporation tube on. And with a sound like a hundred vacuum cleaners operated at once, the machine roared into life.

At the sound, the Blue Man backed away again, looking as though he was shrieking in anger. Although his watery lungs produced no speech.

As the Blue Man backed toward him, Tennyson quickly skirted around the creature. Again the inspector leapt onto Sylvia's bed, toward imagined safety. However, as the contraption was wheeled deeper into the room, Tennyson jumped down onto the carpet to take one of the sunlamps from a relieved-looking bobby.

"All right, let's get it," said the chief inspector. And he and the redheaded reporter, Colin Klein, started across the bedroom.

"Slowly does it," warned Klein. "There's no hurry, we've got more time than it has." Unable to bring himself to call the creature he, after it had slaughtered three innocent women.

Despite his desire to get the job finished, the chief inspector forced himself to slow as they continued toward the watery being.

Seeing them advancing, the Blue Man spun and tried to dematerialise out of the bedroom window. But the window closed, the creature's watery outbursts merely splashed against the glass, pouring onto the apple-green carpet.

"Time to hurry!" cried Tennyson.

Reluctantly Klein agreed, fearing that the creature might in time manage to break through the window glass. Then who knows how many more people will be killed, before we manage to get it cornered again! thought Colin Klein.

So, against his better judgment, Klein followed Tennyson, as the inspector almost ran at the watery being.

Fearing their intention, the Blue Man was now hurling his watery bulk against the window pane repeatedly, still hoping to somehow break through the glass. Again and again, his substance splashed off the glass and onto the carpet. Yet, still it hurled its bulk against the glass repeatedly, knowing that it could only withstand the watery assault for so long.

"Come on!" cried Colin Klein, and the two men almost thrust the small sunlamps into the body of the creature.

Insulated better than ordinary sunlamps, the lamps did not burst or short out on contact with the watery beast. Instead, steam and water vapour began to hiss off the creature. As though hissing at the two men when the mute creature could not.

"Keep going!" cried Tennyson, less concerned about being electrocuted than about evaporating the Blue Man before the lamps shorted out.

"Come on!" Colin Klein called, and the two men thrust the sunflower-shaped lamps right into the watery bulk of the creature, throwing all caution to the wind.

Still, the Blue Man kept throwing its watery body again and again against the window glass. Desperately still hoping to break the glass. But as his volume evaporated off, less and less water remained to splash against the glass. Until the danger of it breaking evaporated along with the Blue Man entirely.

"Well, there you are," said Colin Klein as the six men looked up at the water vapour cloud just below the jaundice-yellow ceiling.

"All right, get to work," instructed Tennyson. And, less hesitant than before, the four constables held up the long vacuum tubes to suck up the cloudy form of the Blue Man into the freezing cylinder.

Five minutes later the Blue Man was safely contained within the glass tube. As the cloud began to rain, the Blue Man slowly began reforming inside the tube.

"All right, freeze it," instructed Tennyson.

"Yes, sir," said the baby-faced constable eagerly turning a valve to pump liquid nitrogen into the tube.

"Well, that's the end of it," said Tennyson, as the Blue Man solidified, only half-formed, so that its head and chest protruded from the now frozen cloud.

As they started to wheel the awkward device back into the corridor, again having to fight to get it through the small doorway, Tennyson said: "You can go back to your holiday now, Mr. Klein."

"Yes," said Klein, "but not here. I'm moving to the Red Devil Inn at the other end of town."

"Well, hopefully, they'll give you as interesting a chapter for your book on local legends, as the Blue Man Motel did," said Tennyson. Adding prophetically: "But hopefully without so many people being killed."



After some hesitation, Swan-Li finally summoned up the courage to return to the green-carpeted bedroom, but only after fetching an irritated Sylvia from the pool area out back of the motel. Although she became less irritable, after hearing of Swan-Li's close encounter with the Blue Man in the bedroom earlier.

"See, honey, it's perfectly safe," said the blonde. Although Swan-Li insisted upon the two of them checking out every nook and cranny of the room together.

At the bathroom, for just a second the Asian girl saw a heavy mist in the shower cubicle, but it soon disappeared, before Sylvia could look inside the en suite.

"See, honey," said Sylvia again. Then turning back into the room, "May I now go back to sunbathing outside?"

"You know you're almost naked in that stringkini," said Swan-Li, "and all of the men are perving at you."

"Well, duh, I'd be disappointed if they weren't," insisted the curvaceous blonde, sashaying out into the red-carpeted hallway.

Smiling in genuine pleasure whenever the men stopped to ogle her, sometimes getting themselves slapped by angry wives for their trouble, Sylvia walked downstairs. Then making certain that everyone was watching her, and even Colin Klein was unable to lift his vision up to her face this time, the beautiful blonde sauntered to the back door and out to her pink towel again. Having not bothered to take it back inside when roused by Swan-Li.

Now, should I lie face down, or face up? she thought. Looking round at her magnificent backside, which she regarded as her best feature, she thought, I'll give the men a real treat. And lay face down on the fluffy towel'



Half an hour later Sylvia was awakened from a gentle sleep by soft fingers caressing her back.

"Hey! Look but don't... " she said, stopping as she turned over and saw the Blue Man looking slightly diminished leaning over her, grinning lasciviously down at her.

"But they captured you!" she insisted, making the Blue Man grin more evilly than any grin she had ever seen before.

She managed to get in one scream before the Blue Man liquefied and swirled into her mouth and raced down her throat as if she were throwing up in reverse.

On and on the Blue Man descended down her gulley, into her stomach, until her belly had distended like a nine month pregnant woman.

As the creature also filled her lungs, the beautiful blonde started coughing, started drowning.



Inside the foyer, Colin Klein looked up from the paper that he was reading. "Was that a scream?" he asked.

"It sounded like it," said the baby-faced constable.

They both ran over to the freezer contraption, where although frozen solid, they could still clearly see the Blue Man. After exchanging puzzled looks, Klein said, "We'd still better check it out."



Outside they saw Sylvia thrashing about wildly, her belly extended, her eyes bugging out.

As they ran across to help her, the blonde stopped struggling as she drowned.

"Is she still alive?" asked the constable.

Colin Klein knelt beside her to find out, and as he opened her mouth, was almost doused by this new Blue Man as it spewed out of the blonde's mouth, and arced high until splashing down into the swimming pool.

"What?" said the constable, as Klein tried without success to revive Sylvia. "But that's impossible, we've got it captured in the foyer in that contraption?"

"Maybe it's another one," said Klein after finally giving up on Sylvia.

"Any luck?" asked the bobby. "No, but take over from me. I'll go ring for an ambulance, then I have to ask Swan-Li something."

As the bobby knelt beside the beautiful corpse, Colin Klein raced across to the foyer, wishing that he had his mobile phone with him.



In the foyer, Klein rang for an ambulance, then rang Inspector Tennyson, who, thinking that it was over, had returned to Scotland Yard.

"What, another one?" said Tennyson over the phone. "But how."

"I'm hoping Swan-Li can tell us that," said Klein.

After hanging up, he ran up the flight of stairs to talk to the young Asian woman. After a moment's hesitation, he told her as delicately as he could what had happened to Sylvia.

After crying herself out, Swan-Li asked, "But how, I thought you had that monster trapped in that device downstairs."

"We have," agreed the reporter, "but I wondered, did you carefully check this suite after we left it?"

"Yes, Sylv and I checked it together."

"And you noticed nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Well," she hesitated, reluctant to waste his time, but finally told him about thinking that she had seen a steam cloud in the shower cubicle for a few seconds.

"Then it just vanished, and Sylvia didn't seem to see it. So, I thought maybe I was wrong."



Half an hour later, Sylvia had been taken away and a nurse had given Swan-Li two sleeping tablets.

While a policewoman sat by her bed, Colin Klein and Geoffrey Tennyson went downstairs to talk.

Klein told the chief inspector what Swan-Li had thought she had seen.

"You think it was part of the Blue Man that we missed and it escaped through the shower hose?" asked Tennyson.

"Yes, and then it either renewed itself from the pool water or..."

"Or what?"

"Or maybe that is the way that its species reproduces. By splitting off a little piece of itself that renews itself in whatever water source it can find."

"In which case this country ... the whole world in fact could be overrun with these creatures, if we don't capture this second one."

"Any ideas?" asked Klein. "We got lucky, sort of, before. We're not likely to capture a second one with that big, heavy contraption."

Tennyson thought for a moment, then said: "We'll drain the pool. Suck out all of the water and cart it away and poison it somehow."

"Great idea," said Klein.

Tennyson reached for his mobile phone and made preparations for the pool to be drained as quickly as possible.



Two hours later a tanker truck arrived and they found that they had to run an extra long tube right through the motel foyer to reach the swimming pool out back. It was soon sucking up the water though, and in an hour or so, after checking that there were no stray puddles at the bottom of the pool, the tanker drove off, with a police escort.

"Now, how to dispose of it safely," said Tennyson, getting into the lead police car. "Hopefully we've seen the last of these monsters now."

"Fingers crossed," said Colin Klein, literally crossing two fingers on each hand as the convoy headed away.

"Can we refill the pool now?" asked the manager coming up behind the redheaded reporter.

"I don't see why not," said Colin Klein, unaware that he had just made a terrible mistake.



As the pool was refilled the Blue Man lurked in a small puddle of water in the pool filter, delighted at the sound of running water.



After the death of Sylvia, Swan-Li and more than half of the other residents at the motel moved out. Moving to the Red Devil Tavern, at the other end of town.

"Going now?" asked Colin Klein as Swan-Li checked out.

"I couldn't stay here after ..." As she broke down into tears," Colin Klein pulled her hard up against himself and held her tightly as she cried herself out.

"Sorry," she said when she finally finished.

"That's all right," said Colin Klein picking up her suitcase. "Let me carry this out to the taxi for you."



When he returned to the foyer there were a dozen people at the reception desk.

"Doing great business today, I see," said Klein to the manager.

"Hardly," he replied, "they're all checking out."

"Oh," said Klein as the manager walked across to help out at reception.



There was, however, a middle-aged couple, Heather and Leon Montague, who were checking in. American tourists, who had not yet heard of the deaths at the troubled motel.

"Thangu," said Heather to the bellhop, as he picked up their suitcases and led them across to the elevator.

Not quite certain what she had said, he led them up to their second-floor suite, standing in the doorway after they entered. Leaving a minute or so later when he realised that no tip was coming his way.

"Boy am I exhausted," said Heather unpacking her case. "I can't wait to get into bed."

"Ho ho," said her husband eagerly.

"And you can get any ho hoing out of your mind. I said exhausted, not horny."

"Oh," said Leon, disappointed as she changed for bed. "Not even a little ho ho?"

"Tomorrow night if I'm not too tired," his wife assured him. And reluctantly he changed and went to bed beside her, frustrated.

Although pushing fifty, Heather was a still beautiful brunette. Although she was a little chubbier than she had been when they had married thirty years ago, she was still a fine figure of a woman, and men half her age would ogle her blatantly. To her delight, and her husband's chagrin.

As usual, Leon got to sleep first and was soon snoring like a draught horse, which meant that Heather had to were earplugs to have any chance of sleeping. She had almost fallen off when she was disturbed by a soft caress on her backside.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm just beat. Tomorrow for certain, I promise you."

Yet the hand continued to gently stroke her shapely behind, in slow, soft caresses. Despite her determination the brunette soon found herself getting aroused despite herself.

"Oh, all right," said Heather sitting up on the double bed and removing her earplugs. Immediately overwhelmed by Leon's draught horse snores.

Puzzled, she turned on the light and saw that he was indeed sound asleep.

"Then who... ?" she asked, pulling aside the thick cover. Screaming as the Blue Man leered at her from the middle of the bed.

As she screamed the creature took the opportunity to flow down her throat and into her lungs, swiftly drowning her.

Less than twenty minutes later she was dead and the Blue Man had returned to the outdoor swimming pool.

On the second floor, with no one else on that storey, Heather's screams had gone unheard.

Leon slept on, oblivious to his wife's drowning.

The next morning he got up, went for a pee, had a quick shower, and then, yawning widely, went across to the bed to shake his wife awake.

"Heather, honey, time for breakfast," he said and was soon screaming himself when he saw the brunette's bulging, unseeing eyes.



Half an hour later, while Leon Montague was sleeping, sedated, a local doctor, who looked at least ninety, frail and anorexically thin, was examining Heather's corpse.

Straightening up, the doctor said, "I'll need to have an autopsy performed to be certain ... But I think you're right Mr. Klein, this woman has been drowned. Although, how the Hell it happened while she was sleeping in bed, I don't know."

Colin Klein resisted the temptation to tell him, for fear of being locked up. Instead, he asked, "Will you arrange for the body to be taken away?"

"Yes, and I'll have Mr. Montague taken to the local hospital too. They'll probably only keep him in overnight, but it's better than nothing."

"Still, he's lucky it didn't happen in America," said Klein. "With their health don't-care system he would not only have lost his wife but also a couple of thousand dollars. The NHS might not be perfect, but it leaves for dead America's health system."

"Hell," said the doctor, "most starving third-world countries have a better health care system than the U.S.A."



A half an hour later, after the doctor had left, and the Montagues had been taken to the nearest hospital, Chief Inspector Geoffrey Tennyson came running into the foyer of the Blue Man Motel.

"Please tell me that it hasn't happened again," begged the Chief Inspector.

"I'm afraid it has," said Tulio the bellhop.

"But how?" He looked toward the Reporter, but Colin Klein could only shrug.

They were still theorising when Tennyson's mobile phone rang. Flipping it open he talked into the mobile for a few moments, then closed it again and said: "That was the lab. The water that we pumped out of the pool contained nothing except chlorine."

"So we missed it somehow," said Klein perplexed.

"Maybe it hid in the water filter," said Tulio correctly, making Klein and Tennyson stare gape-mouthed at him.

"Of course," said Colin Klein. "So what'll we do now?"

"First we evacuate the place," said Tennyson, "then I go talk to a friend of mine at the British Space Program."

"You planning to launch it into space?" asked Tulio as Tennyson wheeled around and started towards the front door.

"Not quite," said the chief inspector as he departed the motel. "I'll be back in a day or two."

"Well, you heard the man," said Klein, "evacuate the place."

"No need," said Tulio. "After Mrs. Montague's murder, the few remaining residents booked out. All except for you, that is."

"And I'm staying till we see this thing through," insisted the redheaded reporter.

"On your head be it then," said Tulio. "It's only killed women so far. But with all the women gone, it might try a man for a change."

"What about female staff?"

"They've all left. Either taking their holidays early or to find employment somewhere safer."



It was actually eight days later when Chief Inspector Tennyson returned. With a military guard who were carrying between them a pedestal containing a locked safe. Also the frozen Blue Man, no longer in the oversized freezing contraption, had been returned, packed in dry ice.

"Why did you bring that thing back?" asked Klein as they walked into the foyer.

"You'll see," said Tennyson. Pointing at the locked safe, he said, "This stuff is hard to get. Even with a friend in high places, it took me a week."

"What is it?"

"Solid rocket fuel," said a colonel in charge of the military personnel.

"Rocket fuel?" said Klein. "Then you are planning to launch them into space?

"Not quite."

Hearing clanging sirens approaching they waited until a dozen fire-fighters appeared, eight men and four women.

"So where's the fire?" asked the chief fire-fighter.

"Nowhere yet," said Geoffrey Tennyson. "We're about to start it."

They headed out the back of the motel, then pointing toward the Blue Man Motel the colonel said, "We need you to spray down the outside of the building this side only."

"With what?" asked the fire chief.

"With whatever can withstand seven thousand degrees Celsius."

Looking perplexed the chief said, "Okay, but it'll take a couple of hours to get it here."

In fact, it wasn't until after breakfast the next morning that they were ready to commence. The rocket fuel and frozen Blue Man had been kept in a walk-in safe in the basement overnight.

"May I ask what you're planning to do?" asked Colin Klein as perplexed as the fire-fighters.

"At seven thousand degrees Celsius water burns," explained the colonel in charge of the rocket fuel. "The extreme heat breaks it down into its two component gasses, Hydrogen and Oxygen. Both of which are highly combustible. It then burns them separately. So after dumping the Blue Man into the pool, we're going to ignite the pool water and burn both, or all, Blue Men along with the pool water."

"What?" cried the manager of the Blue Man.

"Don't worry," said Geoffrey Tennyson, "the government will pay for any damages that your insurance won't cover."

"I hope so," said the maaanager, as they were led away to a safe vantage point, nearly a kilometre behind the motel.

"We can't see anything," protested Tulio.

"You can with these," said the colonel, handing out pairs of binoculars.

"Any time you're ready," said the fire chief."

"Ignite the rocket fuel," ordered the colonel.

A second Lieutenant pushed a button on a computer tablet that she carried, and for a few seconds, nothing happened.

"What went...?" started Colin Klein as with a deafening explosion the rocket fuel ignited. Even a kilometre away they were knocked down by the blast.

For a moment Colin Klein thought that he was on fire, from the unbearable temperature.

"This is like a summer in Spain ... or Queensland," he said, not certain if anyone could hear him above the whooshing roaring of the burning rocket fuel.

The fire seemed to go on forever, but it was only an hour or so before it started to die down. And for the first time in that long they could hear something other than the roaring whooshing.

"What is that?" asked Tulio.

"Sounds like a dolphin squealing in pain," shouted the colonel.

When the fire died down they risked returning to the poolside. The pool was empty, except for a dark grey image of the Blue Man squealing upon the bottom of the pool. And a second image on one side of the pool.

"They look like the shadow images of the children murdered by the Yanks at Nagasaki and Hiroshima," said the chief inspector.

"Yes," agreed Colin Klein. He looked over at the facing side of the motel, then said to the fire chief, "I don't know what fire retardant you used, but it's good stuff, I can't see any burning at all."

"Some of the windows have blown inwards," corrected the chief, "but yeah, we know our stuff."

"Well let's get out of here," said the colonel.

"Us too," agreed the fire chief.

"Let's make it unanimous," said Colin Klein, "this looks like a good time for me to book out."

THE END

© Copyright 2023 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
© Copyright 2023 Mayron57 (philroberts at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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