Roo-mor of an Angry God

“There I was, all by meself.”

The burly man in the heavy leather coat hunches down over the flagon of ale, staring into the frothy  beverage he had been gifted. His hands are worn and thick - the mark of a lifelong man of the seas - and a patch hung over one eye. Cindy and Mark looked to one another in awe before turning back at their impromptu narrator. 

“Right at the cusp of the abyss - have you ever been out to sea, mister Constantanopolis?” he asked, over enunciating each syllable. Mark nodded, knowing full well his name was Constanza, but too rapt up in the man’s tale to care to correct. “It’s a place of beauty…and horror.”

“One plate of cheese fries?” the waitress says to a table beside them. The seaman squints out of his one eye in her direction before continuing on.

“The things I’ve seen out there would make many a man weep like a little babe fresh off his mothers nipple, but this…this was something else…something far more. It was something of the likes of which ye’d never seen!”

He waves his arm dramatically, before landing it on the now finished mug. Pausing, he rattles it on the wooden bar. When the couple fails to notice, he clears his throat and rattles it once more. Cindy nudges her fiancee and he waves the bartender over. As a fresh, frosty mug is slid his way, he continues once more.

“I’ve seen the face of an angry god!” Almost as if on cue, there is a stroke of lightning follow by the rush of thunder. Cindy shivers and pulls herself closer to Mark, causing the one-eyed man to grin - with far less teeth than a man with full access to modern dental care should. “It was after a night - the seas were rough and me shanty barely broke free from the walls of waves that surrounded her. I thought I was a goner - cast this way and that.”

He begins to pantomime for dramatic effect, thrashing his body from side to side.

“It was a fight - it was a battle - but in the end, I survived. Or so I had thought. They say there’s a calm before the storm - but nobody ever talks about that silence that comes after. It’s like the weight of death in the air and the sea - she is no different - except the silence…sometimes it can bring something with it. Something sinister.” He takes the moment to drain half of the mug. Thick suds coat the dirty brown and gray beard the dangles from his face, and he does his best to lap at them with his tongue before continuing. “They say man was born in his image, but if this was the same God - I can tell you that’s not true - save for the emptiness we all feel sometimes. When we’re all alone.”

He stops for an extended period of time to stare out the window - lost in a thought. Just as suddenly as he stopped, he whips the drink into his mouth and with an exaggerated groan, he continues.

“They say that’s when you can feel he’s near - in those moments. And I can tell you for a fact - it’s a truth. You wouldn’t want to meet him - but I? I did - I saw him, or it, or however you would address something that is beyond even comparison to itself. How do you describe something that can shape and change and twist itself in and out of reality as you know it?” He does a pulse check, looking over to the couple who are leaning forward, waiting to hear his description of the being from beyond. Draining the glass, he sets it on the counter and slides it towards Mark. Another beer enters his palm, the snaggletooth smile spreading once more. “EYES! So many eyes - and these are eyes like you’ve never seen before - each one trained and locked on you no matter where you move. I don’t know myself if it was a trick of the mind or a trick of the light but…I’ll tell you, I’ve never felt so open and exposed in my life.”

He shakes his head, leaning back and taking a proud sip.

“So, what did you do?” Cindy asks.

“Pardon?” he says.

“What did you do when you were face-to-face with the entity?”

“I survived. I did what a man has to do - I’m not proud. I had to survive and so I hid.”

A fit of laughter erupts from the table behind him. The man turns his single eye towards them, snarling.

“Something funny?”

“Ye - youse!” Cindy’s jaw drops and she turns towards the voice, only to see a tiny, furry humanoid wearing a Costco brand Hawaiian shirt. He picks one of the remaining fries from the plate and dunks it into the ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Zaza pulls a eucalyptus cigar from behind his ear, tucking it into the corner of his mouth.

“What would you have done then, little fellow? Bit his knee?” The seaman tosses his head back, guffawing boisterously, both hands landing on his ripe belly.

“Nothing,” Zaza shrugs, sliding out from the chair and dropping to the floor, his furry paw reaching up to pull the hat from the table. “That’s what Roo here is for.”

Sliding out from the booth side of the table, the 6’ kangaroo wearing a ‘Godsmack’ hoodie pushes himself to his feet, pulling the hood over his ears. The sailor’s laugh subsides. “And what would you do, rabbit boy?”

“Simple,” Roo says, following behind Zaza as they head towards the door. He turns towards the group: “I’d just punch him in the face.”

Mark gasps and the seaman leaps to his feet, wagging one hand towards the door. “You can’t punch a god in the face! Hey!”

The door closes behind the pair, leaving him to yell after them:

“You can’t punch a god in the face!”

Sometime later…

“There I was, all by meself,” he begins, pulling the flagon of ale close. 

“Roth Huxterberg?” A voice interrupts. 

The sailor stops his tale, turning towards a man wearing an all black suit and sunglasses, despite his proximity to the outside. 

“My name is Agent Schulder and this is my partner Agent Mully,” The man in black says, quickly flashing a badge, “We heard a report from a young couple about an entity you saw when fishing the other day - would you mind coming with me so we can talk?”

A hand lands firmly on the sailors shoulder and he swallows deeply.