Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

[mpsoldier]

Well to be fair fighting a long term war spread out over multiple fronts is a massive logistical operation. Organizing something like the multi nation, Multi army Normandy invasion is a Herculean task. Confronting a single Kaiju is a much, much simpler task. The only large term military logistical scenario in your stories would likely be supplying the naval armadas. So it makes sense you gloss over the logistics. Except whatever truly unfortunate mayor or governor has to plan those large scale civilian evacuations. Now THAT is a logistical NIGHTMARE. But you often showed the human cost to the Kaiju battles too. Had another random thought. Canada and many of the Oceania countries esp New Zealand have legends of large not quite human but humanoid monsters living away from people. I've seen them referenced in American and Caribbean cultures as well. Like Bigfoot or the Yeti, only violent man eaters and territorial. Earlier on in your Kaiju unleashed chapter you showed one that would fit in with these humanoids. There's a famous if largely uncorrelated WW2 story of the Japanese army encountering and being slaughtered by them on some of the less populated Oceanic islands. That would make a good chapter. Some variation of these beings could replace the Kong tribe and kind of fit with your darker take on the monsterverse.

[Ashram52]

…

Yeah, if I focused on logistics over tactics I’m fairly confident I would bore everyone to tears.

I’ve given it some thought, and I think I might just use something you suggested for the next chapter. Thus, you will get ‘two’ things you wanted in ‘one’ chapter. I was driving to work this morning and imaged a scenario I could use.

I’m actually a little surprised that more folks haven’t chimed in with requests. I’m pretty open to working around other people’s ideas, so long as they don’t clash too much with mine. You MP, and at least one other reader, are both going to get something you asked for in the next chapter. (Since it was something I was planning to do it anyways, it’s quite an easy request to grant.).

…

[mpsoldier]

I watched New Empire a few times recently. I rather liked Shimo. To me at least seems like an older branch of Godzilla's species. I based this off Godzilla being bipedal and Shimo is quadrupedal. Also bigger and heavier then Godzilla and species generally slim down with time. Alternately it might be viewed that Godzilla is a form optimized for aquatic life and Shima is the heavier land based branch. And Skar King is more chimp based then Kong's ape, so the new movies bring in alternate forms for classic Kaiju. I wondered if that might spark some new ideas for the story?

[Ashram52]

…

Okay, just a random update.

I’ve finished re-editing everything up to chapter 20 (and I’ve reposted them on fanfiction’s website), so now I’m currently in the process of writing chapter 46. The Outline is pretty much done and I’m well into writing the first draft. Hopefully this weekend I can knock more of it out.

I figured out today that I’m trying to put too many things/ideas into this one chapter, so I’m going to have to break it into two separate chapters. Otherwise, it’s going to turn into a 50 page monster, and that will be a bit too much to keep my sanity intact.

…

[mpsoldier]

Well sanity is important. Take it in bite sized chunks! And your modeling work is spectacular, we all understand that takes time and some thought.

[Ashram52]

Well sanity is important. Take it in bite sized chunks! And your modeling work is spectacular, we all understand that takes time and some thought.

…

We must have been typing posts at the exact same time last night. But you beat me to the punch.

If I were to use any new characters from the Legendary monsterverse, it probably would be Scar King and/or Shimo. They are undoubtedly the best new monsters introduced thus far. Each of their personalities came across really well in the movie, Both character designs are good, And their individual stories are also fairly compelling. It’s ‘almost’ a shame that Scar King was killed off immediately. He was a pretty decent villain. He had more depth than most. I wouldn’t have minded seeing more of him.

However, the only thing that limits me from using either of Shimo or Scar King is the availability of good character models. Now admittedly, I haven’t actively sought out either of them yet, but I’m not yet aware of figures that would size up well with the scale I’m using. In particular, in comparison with Kong. Finding a decent kong figure in the correct size and of good quality was actually a little difficult. The one I’m presently using is in fact a knock off.

So, if I started looking, Scar King would have to be around 4 inches tall to size up right with Kong. With Shimo though, I’d have a little more breathing space. In the film, her size seemed to fluctuate from scene to scene depending on what up they were having her do. But in general, she’s fairly big by comparison. It would be a little easier not to be chained to an exact scale with her.

As far as sanity goes, It’s not even really the model work that has my head spinning with the next chapter, it’s really more-so to do with the fact that I’m trying to do two separate plots running concurrently together. I can start both of them, but I can’t finish both of them in under 35-40 pages. So, one of those plot-lines will need to be wrapped up in chapter 47 instead.

I simply got too ambitious and I need to reign it in.

…

[mpsoldier]

Well with them being brand new I'm sure finding both a good looking and properly scaled model is way too far fetched a prospect. But with them being so new I doubt anyone would hold you to the same standard as for the other monsters, and of course it seems you yourself hold yourself to a standard much beyond any of the fans. So you could cut yourself a break and do a scene without a model. Or since you seem to be going more for the grand epic style for the second part maybe allow yourself just a small fun excursion scene thrown in. Or throw in a teaser that may or may not be a RED HERRING depending on whether you ever find a model. Its your work, a labor of love. Have fun with it from time to time.

[Ashram52]

…

Well, if I ever do get around to using those characters, it’ll still be awhile. There’s at least 3-4 Showa Era characters I need to get around to. One of them is going to pop up pretty soon. Plus there’s a couple Heisei and Millennium era characters I need to get to as well.

By the time I get to Shimo and Scar King, there’s a good chance some decent figures will be made in the meantime. At this point, I think the main problem is the companies who are producing figures of Legendary Godzilla characters simply are not making high quality figures. I don’t want to offend anyone who likes them, but the playmates toys just aren’t really that great. I think a Japanese toy company needs to get on the case. Aside from the exception of S.H. monster-art’s Scar King, have yet to see a figure really captures his likeness well. And sadly, Monster-arts are scaled to big for me. I’ve thought about switching over to them, but then I couldn’t include a lot of the obscure characters that they don’t make figures for, and that’s kind of a staple of what I do.

Anyway, yeah I could just do Scar King and Shimo without figures or photos, and if the situation doesn’t improve, I may in the future. But for the time being, I have plenty to work with. I still have so many miniatures that I haven’t used yet and I’m always keeping an eye out for new stuff and expanding. That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to put it out there. If anybody wants to donate anything towards the cause, a building, a figure, a vehicle, an effects part, scenery, or some other type of resource, shoot me a PM and I’ll send you my mailing address.

…

[Ashram52]

...

Chapter 46: The Secret of “Them”

In the remote wilderness of the Sunblood Mountain Range, two Canadian helicopters full of Army Rangers were approaching the infamous Nahanni Valley. They were purposefully coming during the daytime to avoid garnering the attention of the monster Bagorah. They hoped that his bat-like nature would mean he’d be sleeping during the daylight hours, and they’d be able to slip in unnoticed. However, they were flying very low to the ground just to be safe. Their mission was simple: Locate the downed airmen from the ill-fated BAC-Lightning’s earlier assault and effect a rescue.

Weak radio signals had been detected coming from the Nahanni Valley, but Bagorah’s sonic waves were interfering with the transmissions. The surviving pilots were assumed to be scattered all over the countryside, but the Canadian authorities couldn’t risk launching a large search operation because of the monster. Thus, it was decided that only two small teams would be sufficient to carry out the mission. Utilizing the helicopters was a necessary risk due to the extreme remoteness of the Nahanni Valley. Roads had not been built anywhere close to that isolated area and the terrain between Nahanni and civilization made it tough for trucks and other types of ground transports to drive there.



The two helicopters transporting the rescue teams were American-made Bell UH-1 Iroquois, or as they were more commonly called, Hueys. Each helicopter had four Army Rangers aboard. The craft were capable of carrying even more soldiers, but since the mission hinged on extracting several pilots, they couldn’t afford to lose the extra space.

Leading the rescue mission was Lieutenant Albert Tremblay. He was an experienced field officer who’d served with distinction during the war. He’d carried out successful close combat missions in both Russia and China. If it came down to it, he was quite comfortable roughing it out in the wild. Lieutenant Tremblay was not concerned that he and his men were headed towards the infamous “Headless Valley”. However, he was very concerned about Bagorah. He’d given the two pilots strict orders to land immediately if they spotted the monster. Tremblay did not like their chances in the air should the monster appear. Bagorah’s sonic echolocation would fry their instruments in an instant. The Canadian military had not developed an affective countermeasure against it yet.

The tension was running high inside Lieutenant Tremblay’s Huey. A big part of that was they were facing off against Bagorah with just eight soldiers in two lightly armed helicopters. The odds did not seem to be in their favor. But that wasn’t all of it. The malicious reputation of the Nahanni Valley was well-known to all of the Rangers. It was a scary bedtime story that had been passed down through the generations in Canada. Many urban legends had been spawned from the terrible things that happened there. None of the soldiers wanted to admit to the others that it still scared them, but it wasn’t far away from any of their minds. Some of them took the stories very seriously, while others did not. Nobody wanted to talk about it though.

One of Lieutenant Tremblay’s best men was a native from the Western Cree Tribe named Sassaba, a name that aptly meant ‘the wolf’ in his native tongue. Sassaba was sitting quietly as the helicopter stayed on course. He looked cautious, but not afraid. Tremblay couldn’t get a good read on what he was thinking, but that wasn’t unusual. Sassaba usually kept his council to himself unless he had something vital to say.

The other two Rangers were a lot more transparent. Privates Persky and Cook. Persky was nervous, and it was obvious to the world. He was a devout Christian, and they were going to a place that he considered the Devil’s den. It made him very uneasy. Tremblay knew he’d have to keep an eye on Persky while they were out in the field. He was going to be trigger happy, and they were on a rescue mission. He could easily see Persky gunning down one of the men they were meant to rescue. Cook looked concerned too, but he was keeping his cool. He’d always been a pretty reliable soldier, though sometimes lacking in discipline.

Aboard the other helicopter, leading the other half of the squad, was Tremblay’s second in command, Sargent B.A. Vankampen. The other guys in the unit thought it stood for Bad Ass. Vankampen was a no-nonsense N.C.O. and was a real soldier’s soldier. Lieutenant Tremblay knew he could count on him to do his job. He also knew the B.A. really stood for Bert Allen, but he wasn’t about to share that information with everyone else.

As they approached their final destination, Lieutenant Tremblay radioed over to the other helicopter one last time to go over mission details with Vankampen. It was thought that as many as five Canadian pilots were still alive somewhere in the Nahanni Valley. Once they had located each of them, the Rangers would pull out. Tremblay’s team would start in the South and Vankampen’s in the North. They hoped to meet in the middle and then leave together. It was a very straightforward plan.

With that, the two helicopters split off from each other and moved towards their assigned search zones. From that moment onward, radio silence was to be in effect as much as humanly possible. It was thought that Bagorah could detect radio signals just like the Rodans, therefore the Rangers were to use them sparingly, only in cases of actual life or death emergencies.

Within minutes, Lieutenant Tremblay’s helicopter was flying over a mountainous landscape filled with trees. The forest stretched as far as the eye could see. Nearby was a large lake, as well as a river which cut through the middle of the Nahanni Valley. If it wasn’t a place that was most famous for its many, many murders, then it might actually look like a nice place to vacation.

Lieutenant Tremblay expected most of the surviving pilots to make their way towards the water. First, because of their inherent need for hydration, but also because of the open meadows around the river. If the pilots were expecting to be rescued, and if they had any sense at all, then they would recognize that it would be a heck of a lot easier to spot them where there wasn’t total tree coverage.

Lieutenant Tremblay noticed a bare spot in the canopy of the forest and instructed his pilot to make his way towards it. As he expected, one of the Canadian jets had crashed into the area and shattered a swath of trees in the process.



“It’s a good thing it rained recently, otherwise this whole forest would be on fire now.” Tremblay pointed out to Sassaba. Sassaba said nothing but nodded in agreement. The patch of woods nearby the downed jet had been burned, but standing puddles of water revealed how the fire had been extinguished early on before it could get out of control.

Tremblay recognized this location was a good place to start looking for survivors. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough space to land the helicopter. The burnt-out husks of trees were sufficient enough obstacles to force them to head for the edge of the clearing, and then they could backtrack to the crash site from there.

After their chopper landed, the Rangers aboard felt a whole lot better. They were pretty exposed in the helicopter with Bagorah lurking somewhere in the area. The pilot shut down the engine and stayed with the helicopter while the four Rangers moved into the forest. The woods around them didn’t seem as foreboding as the stories they heard about them would have suggested. It appeared to be much like any other forest they’d been in before. There were the regular sounds of animals and birds. Nothing terribly formidable was there to greet them.

Lieutenant Tremblay was taking stock of the situation, including the temperament of his men. Persky seemed to have relaxed a little bit. Still, the Rangers weren’t taking anything for granted. Each man kept their M-16 assault rifles at the ready. Interestingly, by stark contrast, Sassaba appeared to be more alert than he’d been before. It was like he had a sense of something being off. But there was nothing around the group that gave Tremblay any sense of danger.

Before the group got to the crash site, they happened upon the remains of the pilot who had ejected from his aircraft. It turned out he hadn’t made it very far away from the plane. His parachute had gotten hung up in the trees. He was dangling nine feet from the ground. It was very obvious that his neck had been broken. The man had an odd look on his face though. Had he been killed from the fall, or was it perhaps something else? Lieutenant Tremblay and Sassaba both took a good long look at him.

There wasn’t much the dead pilot was going to tell them at that point, so they cut him down and buried his body. The corpse was not in a good state for transport. He must have been hanging there for a couple of days already and nobody wanted to have to sit there and smell him all the way home.

Lieutenant Tremblay led his men back to the helicopter, tracing their steps through the forest. They had not gotten off to a good start in their rescue mission, but at least they only had to locate four more remaining pilots now. Hopefully they were in better shape than the first man, otherwise the entire trip would be for nothing.

The Rangers climbed back inside their helicopter and then flew a short ways towards the river before landing once again. The Rangers walked along the riverbank for nearly two miles without finding anything noteworthy. It was starting to get hot and Persky took a moment in the shallows to cup his hands to splash some water on his face. The cool water felt great. If he didn’t already have a full canteen, he might have taken a drink. As Persky stood up straight, he noticed something disturbing about twenty yards upstream from him.

It appeared to be another one of the pilots. The man’s clothing had been torn to shreds and his head was missing. This was no accident. Someone, or something, had definitely slain him. The kill couldn’t have been too old. The pilot’s blood was still flowing between rocks into the river. Persky was horrified, realizing the water was flowing downstream to where he had just splashed it on his face. He got a sick feeling in his stomach and felt like heaving.

Lieutenant Tremblay was just behind Persky and also spotted the body. His heart started pounding in his chest. The whole squad readied their weapons and scanned the area for any threat to present itself, but no animals or men were there to be found.

“What could have done this?” Cook asked anxiously. “A bear…?”

“Maybe a mountain lion?” Persky added, still trying to recover. “Or a pack of wolves?”

“It would be strange for any of those things to just eat a man’s head and leave the rest.” Lieutenant Tremblay pointed out.

“The first law of nature is not to waste anything.” Sassaba echoed Tremblay’s sentiment. “And about ninety-five percent of this man has been left behind.”

“What about the monster?” Cook pointed out.

“Bagorah probably wouldn’t have bothered with just one man, and there’s no indication that he’s been anywhere nearby the scene either.” Tremblay replied confidently.

“Why are we dancing around the obvious?!” Persky said bitterly. “What about the Naha tribe? This savagery feels like the work of men to me.”

“It could be a Waheela.” Sassaba suggested.

“Bullshit!” Persky interjected. “Don’t start in with that native folklore crap. There’s no need to make up fantastic stories about monsters to cover up for the sins of mortal men. Next thing you’re going to say is that it was bigfoot.” Persky added sarcastically. Sassaba just shrugged and left it at that, not wishing to argue.

Lieutenant Tremblay didn’t know what to think at that point. He and Sassaba examined the dead pilot’s wounds more closely. There were no clean cuts. The flesh around the neck wound was jagged and torn. It was almost like the head was ripped clean off the body by hand. But it would take something incredibly strong to do that. Tremblay couldn’t see a man capable of such a thing.

The whole squad was on edge now. There were only three more pilots that were unaccounted for. The Rangers kept following the river, hoping for better fortunes. Eventually, they came to a waterfall and made another grisly discovery. Carved into a large stone at the base of the falls was the figure of a skull. The Rangers all just stared at it. Was it supposed to be human? The workmanship was pretty crude, so it was hard to say, and yet, the sight was still wholly unsettling. If it was intended to look human, it was deformed in some odd ways.

Lieutenant Tremblay did not like the implications. This was meant to be found. Putting it next to the primary source of fresh water for the whole area was not an accident. No doubt in his mind, this was put there as a warning, most likely to ward off outsiders. It was starting to get dark. Lieutenant Tremblay signaled for his men to return to the helicopter for the night. They’d start again fresh in the morning.

…

In a helicopter of his own, Marcus was arriving with Brock at an isolated Archimedes base in the Arizona desert. It was the temporary Headquarters for the newly established G-Force. Most of the base was hidden underground. Looking at it from above, it was not an encouraging start for the new organization, but it was the only suitable place for them to begin getting organized. All of the other old Archimedes bases were research centers and not ideal locations for housing large numbers of troops. Until a proper headquarters could be built, this was the best they could do.

Marcus was in a sour mood. He wanted to be immediately assigned a combat role in the developing situation in Canada with Bagorah, but Admiral Malek would not approve his request to go. Though not in overall command of the newly minted G-Force, he still outranked Marcus. Until a new commander officially took over, Admiral Malek was the ranking officer in charge.

After landing, Marcus fumbled to pull out a bloody handkerchief that he was keeping in a protective plastic bag. He brought it up to his face and smelled it. It still had Shauna’s scent. He found that comforting. The handkerchief was a keepsake from Pearl Harbor. From all of those years ago when he first met Shauna in the hospital. Marcus had soiled his hands with blood and Shauna helped him scrub it off. She used her own personal handkerchief to dry his hands and had forgotten to take it back. Marcus had kept it folded up in his wallet ever since.

In a strange way, it was the only means he could still be close to her in a physical sense anymore. With their house burnt down with all of their possessions inside, the handkerchief was the only thing Marcus had left of Shauna. From the outside, anyone seeing Marcus handling the ratty cloth the way he did would think it looked extremely strange, but to him, it was the most precious thing he owned. It was a security blanket that helped to keep him calm.

As Marcus and Brock entered the base, they were surprised to find two familiar faces, Kiki and Akira Saegusa. They were both dressed in the primarily grey military uniforms of G-Force, which had patches of red, including formal ties, to bring a little color to them. By stark contrast, Marcus and Brock were still wearing their black and yellow Archimedes uniforms. They just stared at each other for a time. Both Kiki and Akira appeared to have been recruited into G-Force. Marcus had heard that Japan was a full partner with the newly established organization. Apparently, that was not an over-exaggeration.

As Marcus stared at Kiki, he was suddenly hit with an epiphany. He remembered back to his encounter with Kiki in an Osaka nightclub with Shauna. He recalled the very strange way Kiki reacted to touching Shauna, and the fact that she was a psychic. It all started to fall into place, and he began to understand a terrible truth: Kiki knew all along what was going to happen back then. Marcus suddenly felt very hurt and angry.

“The Lieutenant would like to speak to me alone, honey.” Kiki said to Akira, sensing the oncoming storm and not wishing for her husband to be there to see it. “Why don’t you show Sargent Brock to his quarters?” Akira didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he trusted Kiki and her motives, and so he gestured for Brock to follow him. The two of them left. Marcus just stared a hole right through Kiki, waiting for them to get out of earshot.

“Why…” He began, his voice trembling uncontrollably with anger and grief. “Why didn’t you warn me about what was going to happen to Shauna?”

“You should instead ask yourself, what good would that have done?” Kiki replied, keeping up an eerie level of calm in her voice. “As it was, you had nearly twenty happy years with your wife. If I had told you what was going to happen that night, I doubt you would have believed me. But let’s say you did. Telling you wouldn’t have changed what happened. It never has. I can sometimes tell the future, but I’ve never been able to effectively change it. Trust me, I’ve tried many times to intervene. It only makes matters worse. As best I can tell, people’s fates are set in stone. When I’ve attempted to interfere, I cause the things I’ve seen to happen, pushing people into their destinies. If I had told you, it simply would have sullied those many joyous moments you shared with your family by telling you ahead of time. Knowing her fate would have put a Sword of Damocles above Shauna’s head. She’d never have been able to get past it. So, through my considerable experience, it’s simply better not to know.”

“Is there anything else you feel like you should tell me?!” Marcus reached towards Kiki with his outstretched hand. “I’d very much like to know how much longer I have to endure this twisted existence. Go ahead, be my fortune teller!” He said, gnashing his teeth.

“It doesn’t work like that.” Kiki replied, trying to keep calm. “I can’t just turn it on and off like you might think. Most of the time, things just come to me from the void. No rhyme or reason to it. And even if it did, I wouldn’t tell you. That wouldn’t help anything.”

“Great, you’ve been very helpful.” Marcus said mockingly. “You know everything… but can’t do anything about it. What the hell good are you then?”

“I can tell you this much, one day this pain won’t dominate your existence anymore.” Kiki replied. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to your wife. She was a good person. She deserved better. It’s not easy for me, you know. It’s terrible knowing bad things are going to happen to good people and not be able to do anything to help them.”

Marcus said nothing else, and just left it at that. He simply walked away.

…

Brock and Akira were continuing on their way when they passed an auditorium with some fresh recruits listening to a lecture that was being given by Dr. Orsini. He was discussing the different Kaiju and monster classifications using a projector with a slideshow to display examples. Brock stopped and put down his bags to listen for a minute.

“The first ones I’d like to mention are the Crab monsters discovered on Mondo Island.” Dr. Orsini began. “They are considered a level one threat. They are relatively small, but still represent a threat to people. They can be killed with small arms. However, despite this, they still killed several soldiers in the field. They are not to be underestimated.”

“Second, there are the Meganulon which were discovered in Japan.” Dr. Orsini changed slides. “Aggressive and ravenous, many soldiers and civilians alike were killed and eaten by these organisms that were living in a local cave system. Heavy weapons, such as flamethrowers, bazookas, and to a lesser extent, machine guns, were able to dispatch them. They are considered a level two threat.”

“Next, we have the Giant Hornets of the Sollgel Islands chain.” He changed the slide again, and an image of the angry hornets came into view. “They are thought to have been wiped out, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent certain at this time. These are a considerably more dangerous type of Kaiju. They are much larger. They can both sting and bite. They are certainly a threat to aircraft. Small arms were not utilized against them, but nevertheless, the exoskeletal remains we recovered indicate that they’d be very resistant to conventional firearms. However, they were proven to be vulnerable to higher-caliber cannons found aboard F-4 Phantoms, as well as to rockets, bombs, and fire. Therefore, their threat level is only considered to be a level three.”

“The next level up we have Kaiju like Kamacuras. The Kamacuras species grows even larger than the Hornets and was found to prey upon them given the opportunity. Though we don’t know for certain yet, it is believed that their exoskeleton is of similar durability as the hornets, though likely a little thicker and more robust. Therefore, they are also likely to be vulnerable to conventional firepower. Several specimens escaped Sollgel Island and have not been located yet. This is of great concern, since they have been shown to be capable of multiplying rather quickly. An individual Kamacuras probably only represents a threat level of four, but in a larger group, that number could be much, much, higher.”

“Other level four threats that we are aware of were found on Mondo Island.” Dr. Orsini continued. “The Sea Snake and Giant Condor. These are two smaller Kaiju specimens, and both are believed to be deceased. However, they may not have been the only members of their species. Each of them killed several soldiers and are thought to be fairly resistant to regular firearms. The Sea Snake was presumably killed by a single torpedo and the Giant Condor by King Kong.” Dr. Orsini changed the slide only to discover a monster he had forgotten about. “Oh… and Maguma, the walrus-like Kaiju spotted near the North Pole, is also considered to be level four, but we don’t know much about him. He has been very reclusive so far. This still-image was taken from a security camera at a remote base.”

“Inagos is a level five Kaiju.” Dr. Orsini moved on. “Another monster that is insect-like in nature, he was considerably larger than Kamacuras and more destructive. His exoskeleton proved to be very resilient to conventional military firepower. He was able to withstand tank and artillery shells without issue. However, he did prove to be vulnerable to Maser beams. One of his limbs was blown clean off. Insect Kaiju, as a rule of thumb, seem to be more vulnerable to damage. Inagos was driven off and has not been seen since. He possibly died from his wounds.”

“Kameras was a class six Kaiju. Again, he was a size larger. He begins to represent what we would consider a more standard type of Kaiju. Very resistant to tanks and artillery, but even a step above that, able to shrug off shots from naval cannons. Kameras embodies a step up in durability, though he was weaker than most of the other monsters we will be covering today. He was defeated twice in battle. Once by Mothra, and then he was later killed by Godzilla. His remains have taught us a great deal about what we currently know about Kaiju biology.”

“Soran and the Lord Howe Monster are also considered level six threats. Both of them are full-sized Kaiju, but generally weaker than their other monster brethren. Each of these monsters is deceased. Soran killed, again by Godzilla, and The Lord Howe monster by a test-firing of the Oxygen Destroyer. Sadly, that is a technology that remains out of our reach at this time. It could have proved instrumental in our fight against even tougher Kaiju.

“Spiga, or Kumonga, as he as sometimes called, is somewhere between a level six and seven threat. He’s still located on Sollgel Island and is the strongest insect Kaiju we have encountered thus far, with the notable exceptions of Mothra and Battra. He regularly preys upon other insect monsters. He has a potent poison which seems capable of paralyzing other Kaiju, if not outright kill them. We are observing him at this time to see if we can acquire a sample of his venom for study.”

“I don’t envy the guys who have to do that!” One of the audience members interjected comedically.

“Yes, indeed.” Dr. Orsini agreed with a chuckle before moving on. “Now we get to the most common classification of Kaiju. The class seven monsters. The city destroyers. Kaiju in this threat level are all ones you should be familiar with by now. The likes of Anguirus, Baragon, Varan, Manda, Gezora, Gorosaurus, Gabara, Sanda and Gaira. Each of them is similar in size, strength, and durability. None of them are easy for conventional military forces to deal with. Masers can drive off these monsters, and perhaps even kill them under the right conditions, but victory certainly isn’t assured. Each monster in this classification is very dangerous and we are even now trying to come up with effective countermeasures against them.”

“The Rodans were formerly considered level seven Kaiju, but they have been promoted to level eight status. Each of them was considerably dangerous on their own, particularly in the air. But as a pair, engaging them was a terrifying proposition. However, both specimens are considered deceased. Killed by multiple nuclear weapons exploding next to them at point blank range.”

“Also at level eight, we have King Kong and his mechanical counterpart Mechani Kong. Kong has defeated several other Kaiju over the years and is more intelligent than most. He’s generally not a threat, preferring to keep to himself, but when agitated, he is a serious menace. Mechani Kong is currently in a state of disrepair, but we are hoping to salvage what we can from it. When the machine was functioning properly, even Kong was having a difficult time with it. Its metal armor was a tough nut to crack.”

“At level nine, we have the more recent arrivals of Barugon and Gamera. Each of them possessed bizarre abilities beyond what we’ve become accustomed to with Kaiju. Barugon’s cold beam froze most of a city solid before he was driven off. Fortunately, both of these monsters badly wounded the other and have not been seen since.”

“Mothra was considered a level nine threat at one time, but she has somehow augmented her abilities in recent years and now has been upgraded to at least a category ten threat. Battra’s abilities have been shown to be similar, though he’s even more aggressive than she is. Both Mothra and Battra have defeated numerous other Kaiju and are each considered to be quite powerful.”

“Also at level ten, is perhaps the most bizarre kaiju we’ve encountered thus far: Hedorah. He is a sludge monster that rampaged through London and seems to thrive on waste materials. He has proven very resilient to conventional methods of attack and extremely dangerous to human life. He was only driven out of England thanks to Battra and was last seen crashing into the Ocean. His status at this time is unknown.”

“And now we come to the biggest terrestrial Kaiju threat: Godzilla. He is this organization’s very own namesake and stands at the very pinnacle of our list of enemies. Godzilla is perhaps now a level eleven threat or beyond. We still don’t know the full extent of his power. He’s grown so much in strength that he’s forced us to reevaluate and expand our established rating system for Kaiju beyond just ten. He might have been a nine before, but that’s long behind him. At this time, we don’t even begin to know how to effectively counter him. He ate a nuclear blast for breakfast and came back stronger from it.”

“What about King Ghidorah?” One of the audience members asked.

“King Ghidorah is another one that defies the scaling system. He’s at least as powerful as Godzilla, if not more so. So, he’s maybe like a twelve? He is a potential world-ending threat. It’s terrifying what he did in such a short amount of time… may he never return. But we can’t afford those types of platitudes here. No, it is our very job to prepare for just such a horrifying event.”

“What about this Bagorah?” Another audience member asked. “It sounds like we may have to go up against him soon.”

“It’s too early to assign him an official classification.” Dr. Orsini answered. “He’s actually pretty small, but his defense mechanism is very strong.” He shifted back to his notes. “I also left the Matango out, because honestly, it’s hard to give those a classification as well. Even small specimens are extremely dangerous. If left unchecked, they could wipe out whole ecosystems. Only their isolation kept them from consuming all animal life around them. At this time, only small samples of Matango spores are thought to exist in controlled environments that are closely monitored.”

“How exactly are we supposed to fight all of these things?” One of the soldiers asked bluntly. “There’s absolutely no hardware for us to utilize here.”

“After what King Ghidorah did to the West Coast, funding for the program will not be a problem.” Dr. Orsini assured them. “Every taxpayer and politician in the country is terrified by what happened and will do anything to prevent it from occurring again. We will focus on training for now, but soon enough, we’ll have all the equipment we could ever need.”

…

On a desert road in Alamogordo, New Mexico, a state-police squad car was driving through the sandy wasteland, kicking up dust in its wake. Inside were two officers, Sargent Ben Peterson and Officer Ed Blackburn. They were called out to investigate an odd report about a child being spotted walking through the desert.

As their car went past the marker which indicated that they were twenty miles out of town, the officers did indeed see a little girl with pigtails wandering all by herself through the dunes about fifty yards off the road. Fortunately, it was still early, and the heat of the day was far off yet. Sargent Peterson was nonetheless very disheartened to see what appeared to be a girl of about the age of five all by herself like that. He pulled off the road and stopped the car. He stepped outside and called out to the girl to get her attention.

“Hey little girl, over here!” He raised his voice and waved but avoided shouting too loudly to risk scaring her. The child just kept walking though, entirely ignoring him. She didn’t react at all, as though she hadn’t even heard him.

Sargent Peterson closed the squad car door and started to move out into the sand after her. As he got closer, he could see that the little girl was only wearing pajamas and slippers. With all the snakes and cactuses around, Peterson shuttered, thinking of the consequences of her stepping into the wrong place. He began to run to get out ahead of her and quickly closed the distance. As he came around to look at her face, he was surprised by the utter lack of expression he found there. Even when he touched the girl’s shoulders to stop her from walking, her expression remained totally blank.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” Sargent Peterson used his most mild and soothing speaking voice. The girl did not reply though. He got no acknowledgement from her whatsoever. It was quite strange. Peterson looked around at the desolate and arid landscape. There was nothing and no one to be seen for miles. Peterson decided the first thing he would do is get the girl out of the sun. He picked her up and carried her back to the waiting squad car. Ed was calling in to dispatch, telling them what they had found.

“Is she okay boss?” Blackburn asked.

“I don’t know…” Peterson replied uncertain. “I think she’s in shock. She won’t say a word.”

“Can’t say that I’ve seen her before.” Blackburn noted thoughtfully. “She’s not a local. Dispatch says there’s a vehicle and trailer roughly three miles up the road. Maybe she came from there?”

“That’s sound reasoning.” Sargent Peterson agreed. “We’ll go check it out immediately. Just as soon as I get her settled.” He opened up the back passenger door and placed the little girl onto the seat inside. He raised the air conditioner’s setting to high and then grabbed a spare blanket from the trunk. He folded it up into a pillow and then lay the girl down to rest. She immediately closed her eyes and fell asleep. She looked exhausted. At that moment, Peterson noticed the girl was clinging onto a dolly with a broken head. The top of its skull was missing.

“Should we give her some of our coffee boss?” Blackburn asked.

“No, if she’s dehydrated, that will only make it worse.” Peterson replied. “First place we stop, we’ll see if we can find some water for her. I think she’s okay though. She’s not sunburned, so she couldn’t have been out here for more than a couple hours at the most.”

“You know, it tears me up to see such a sweet innocent thing like her out here all alone like this.” Blackburn commented.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” Peterson agreed. “Let’s go see what’s going on at the trailer. Maybe we’ll get some answers there.”

Peterson and Blackburn got back on the road and very quickly came upon the trailer. They were shocked to find that it had been ripped open like a tin can. There was a ten-foot hole gouged into the side. Much of the furniture, along with a mess of clothing and other assorted items, had been pulled out and strewn across the desert sand. The two officers didn’t know what to make of it. There were spots of blood outside of the trailer, but no bodies. Peterson knelt down to examine the blood closely.

“Whatever happened here happened within the last twelve hours.” He announced to Blackburn. “Probably during the night.” He looked back to the little girl in the car to ensure she was still safe and sound. She had not moved.

Sargent Peterson stepped inside of the trailer carefully to investigate further. It was a disaster inside. Nothing was where it should be. He spotted a stack of money that had been left discarded on the floor. As he went down the hallway, he found a pistol on the floor. He used a pencil to pick it up by the barrel and sniffed it. It had been fired recently. Nearby, he spotted a cabinet which was cracked open. Inside, Peterson found a scrap of fabric that had been caught on a jagged piece of wood. It was a plaid pattern very much like the pajamas the little girl had been wearing. Also inside, was a piece of plastic. Peterson collected both items and started to make his way back outside.

Peterson returned to the squad car where he inspected the little girl’s pajamas. He found a place where the outfit had been torn. The ripped piece he found was a perfect match. He took out the piece of plastic and placed it onto the dolly’s head. Aside from another piece that had broken off at some point and was still missing, it fit precisely. That was enough to confirm it for him, the little girl had been on the scene and had been hiding in the cabinet.

Blackburn and Peterson immediately ruled out a traffic accident, despite the trailer’s close proximity to the road. The damage to the trailer oddly looked to have been caved out, not in. There were no tire marks or footprints in the sand, aside from the little girls, and they led away from the scene. Blackburn had located something fairly interesting while Peterson had been inside investigating. It was a very odd marking in the sand, perhaps made by some type of tool. Neither Blackburn nor Peterson had seen an impression like it before.

Blackburn had already radioed dispatch to send the forensics expert to help them out. He was planning to make a cast of the print to get a better understanding of what they were looking at. Blackburn also had them start running the plates on the vehicle that had been pulling the trailer. In a couple of hours, they’d know more about the owner. For the time being, the officers knew they were out of state plates from Illinois. Whoever the owners were, they were a very long way from home. At that point, Peterson and Blackburn were left with far more questions than answers.

…

Peterson and Blackburn poked around the crime scene until an ambulance arrived to collect the little girl and take her to the hospital for further evaluation. Nothing on the scene told them who she was or who her family were. Sargent Peterson didn’t like handing the little girl over to anybody at that point, but he knew it was the best thing for her. He promised himself he’d go check up on her later.

The forensics expert was also at the scene by that point and was quickly putting the plaster in place to make a cast of the hole in the ground. A windstorm was brewing in the desert, so he needed to act fast or risk the sand filling it in. Peterson and Blackburn had done everything they could on the scene. They were relieved by other officers who’d arrived. In a small town like Alamogordo, everybody was interested in a mystery like this.

As the forensics expert was working on the casting, he was talking to Peterson and Blackburn about what the folks in town were talking about. Everybody in the café was chattering about the imminent approach of Godzilla during lunch that day. The long and short of it was people were scared. With the threat that was looming over them, the townsfolk couldn’t be blamed for their concerns.

“That thing flattened several cities all by himself, he’d make pretty short work of this tiny town.” Powell, the forensics man said as he wrapped up the casting work and began the long process of waiting for it to set.

“If worst comes to worst, we’ll evacuate.” Sargent Peterson assured him.

In the background, the little girl was being loaded into the ambulance. While that was happening, a strange noise arose from the desert. For the first time, the little girl reacted to a stimulus. She sat up in the gurney and looked around scared to death. Sargent Peterson and the others were too distracted by the sound to see her. The desert winds were kicking up and muffled the noise. The sound dissipated and then disappeared altogether. The little girl relaxed and then sunk back down to rest again.

It was starting to get dark, but Sargent Peterson and Blackburn decided that they wanted to go up the road a little bit to question Mr. Johnson at the general store. It was just twelve miles down the road, and it was possible that the people passing through in the trailer had stopped there for gasoline or supplies. Johnson might remember seeing them.

…

By the time Sargent Peterson and Officer Blackburn arrived at the general store, the windstorm was in full effect. It blotted out whatever daylight was remaining, and the wind was constantly howling. The store took on an eerie quality in the darkness of the storm. Its hanging sign rustled back and forth forcefully. It gave Peterson a foreboding feeling.

As the two officers entered the establishment, they were greeted with a very unwelcome sight. The shop was in shambles. It had looked fine from the outside, but after walking inside, Peterson and Blackburn could see that the entire store was wrecked. The back outer wall was practically non-existent anymore. The wind was blowing all of the elements of the desert directly into the building. The hanging lights were being pushed around by random gusts and they were swinging all over the place. It looked like a riot had broken out inside. Everything was smashed and knocked over. Nothing was where it was meant to be.

As Sargent Peterson and Blackburn stood there taking it all in, the wind whistled through. It was the only noise to be heard in the otherwise dead silent room. The only item that was where it was meant to be, was a solitary broom, but it was going to take a lot more than one broom to clean up the mess that laid around them. Mr. Johnsson, the shopkeeper, was nowhere to be found. Peterson called out for him, but there was no answer.

Eventually, the two officers did hear a voice coming from the backroom of the store, but when they went to investigate, it just turned out to be a radio that had been left on. It was a newsman talking about the United States’ nuclear arsenal. He was speculating about the Government potentially using a second nuclear bomb on Godzilla, who was still marching through Arizona. Peterson noticed that there was coffee left boiling on an oven in the back room. He knew Mr. Johnson well enough to know he wouldn’t do that.

The two officers resumed their search, coming around to the store’s cash register. Just behind the counter, Blackburn found a rifle that had belonged to Mr. Johnson. The metal barrel of the rifle had been broken in half. Who or what could have done that? Peterson checked the register to see if any money was missing. It was still full of bills and looked undisturbed.

Suddenly, the wind pushed a door that was built into the floor closed, catching the attention of the officers. The two of them came around and reopened the storage cellar, inspecting the contents below with a flashlight. There, they found the body of Mr. Johnson. He was dead, lying on his back staring up at them. He had a ghastly expression on his face. Johnson appeared to have a stab wound in his chest. His shirt was soaked in blood. If someone had murdered him and thrown him down there, they’d done a really piss-poor job of hiding the body.

For the time being, Sargent Peterson and Officer Blackburn left Mr. Johnson’s body where it was. They didn’t want to disturb the crime scene any more than necessary before the experts arrived. Instead, they went to examine the huge hole in the back of the store. It was much like what they’d seen at the trailer, only bigger. The wall appeared to have been pulled out, not pushed in. Nearby the hole, Peterson saw a big barrel of sugar had been knocked over. Much of its contents were gone. Given its proximity to the opening, perhaps most of it had been blown away by the wind?

The two officers stepped outside to see what they could find. Sadly, whatever evidence they might have found was likely already gone due to the storm. There were no prints to be found on the scene. Blackburn offered to stay on location until other officers and forensics could come to take over. Peterson was pretty tired, and so he agreed.

…

In the Nahanni Valley, the Rangers had hunkered down in a spot between the woods and the river for the night. It was getting cold, but Lieutenant Tremblay refused to let his men light a fire. It would give away their position to anything for miles around. After what he had seen earlier in the day, he wasn’t about to take that risk.

Lieutenant Tremblay was letting his men sleep in shifts. He wasn’t tired himself though. If he had to, he could stay awake for days on end. Tremblay had done it before while in combat, so he could do it again now. He badly wanted to radio Sargent Vankampen to get a status report. Hopefully Vankampen’s group managed to track down at least one of the missing pilots on the first day. If they did, that would only mean two men left to search for tomorrow, and then they could all get the hell out of there.

The Nahanni Valley was starting to make Tremblay’s skin crawl. All through the night, he had been hearing strange noises in the woods. There were the usual animal sounds, but there were other things that he’d never heard before anywhere else in the world, and he had been to a lot of places. It made him anxious. Tremblay was used to being in control. But there was an unknown factor at play here. Something he couldn’t understand or predict, so he had to keep his guard up. Tremblay had seen something in the woods an hour earlier, but it was in the shadows, so he couldn’t get a good look at it.

While there was no fire to provide a source of light, the moon was full that evening. That gave Tremblay all he needed to effectively function. He kept his M16 right by his side. He had intentionally made camp in a clearing far enough away from the woods to ensure anything crossing the gap would have to be out in the open for fifty meters before it got to them. Plenty of time for him to gun down anything or anyone who felt like testing his aim and reflexes. The Rangers had found a nice mound of dirt and dug in for cover. They were well protected in their position.

“Sir, permission to go take a piss?” Private Cook asked with a smirk. “I don’t want to turn the dirt in our nice cozy foxhole into mud.”

“Granted.” Lieutenant Tremblay said, rolling his eyes at Cook. “But don’t wander away too far.”

“Yes sir.” Cook replied.

As Private Cook walked away, Lieutenant Tremblay heard a new sound rise up in the night air. It was distant, but strong. He instinctively froze up, watching, listening, and waiting. For a time, it was silent. Then he heard the noise again. This time closer. Tremblay finally understood what it was. It had to be Bagorah hunting in the night sky. Suddenly, there was a spark of light nearby. Cook had finished urinating and foolishly lit up a cigarette afterward.

“Cook, you fucking idiot, put that butt out!!!” Tremblay shouted at him. Cook did as he was told, but they had already garnered the unwelcome attention of Bagorah. The monster was still far away, but he was definitely moving in their direction. “Hurry up and get back here!”

Private Cook started to run for the safety of the foxhole, but Bagorah was on him before he could jump down inside. Cook was right at the crest of the hill when the monster passed over them. Bagorah had dove down close to probe the ground and Cook got caught up in the strong current of air that the monster displaced in his wake. Cook was thrown thirty meters away from the mound towards the woods. He landed with a thud and had the air knocked out of him. Tremblay could see that Cook was still alive and wanted to go get him, but Bagorah was still flying nearby. If Tremblay broke cover, he too might take an unexpected flight, or worse.



The other Rangers readied their weapons, but Tremblay kept them in check. Their best hope for survival was to remain undetected. If they just held their ground and kept quiet for long enough, Bagorah would surely move on. The monster came down again, this time passing directly over the Ranger’s parked helicopter. The machine flipped, bending to the strength of the wind. The propellers all twisted or broke off as the craft tumbled across the rocky landscape. The pilot was safely in the foxhole with the rest of the soldiers, but the machine was toast. It was way too badly damaged to be repaired out in the field.

Bagorah circled the camp one more time, and then began to move off, losing interest. Before Lieutenant Tremblay could start to assess the damage, a scream rang out from the woods. Tremblay looked to the clearing where Cook had been, but he was gone. All of the Rangers sprang out of the foxhole and ran towards the woods with their weapons.

By the time they got there, it was already too late. Private Cook was dead, and his head had been removed. This time, it was still sitting near the corpse. Perhaps whoever had attacked him dropped it in their rush to get away. Lieutenant Tremblay thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and started to unload his machine gun. The other Rangers let loose as well, firing wildly into the forest around them.

The whole area of woods lit up as the muzzle flashes illuminated everything. It was a quick and violent eruption of raw firepower. Over the rattling noise of the gunfire, Tremblay thought he heard the sound of a grunt. It seemed like one of them had actually hit something.

“Alright, woah, woah!” Tremblay shouted to his men. “That’s enough!” The firestorm came to a halt. The Rangers reloaded and waited. Tremblay listened to any sounds that might betray an enemy’s location. It was eerily quiet. Tremblay signaled to his men with his hands to carefully advance. Within thirty yards, they found a spurt of blood. They had definitely hit something. The blood trail led further and further into the woods. Before long, Tremblay decided they were too far in. They needed to fallback, or risk being ambushed.

Coming back to Cook’s body, they discovered what appeared to be claw marks on his chest. Thomas, their pilot, had left the mound and was kneeling over what was left of him.

“What kind of a weapon would leave wounds like this?” Thomas asked, horrified.

“I don’t know.” Tremblay replied. “But now’s not the time to discuss it.” He picked up Cook’s weapon and shoved the fallen Ranger’s weapon into Thomas’ hand. “From this point forward, stay close to me and do what I do.”

…

Without the helicopter for transport, the Rangers couldn’t bring Private Cook’s body with them. They buried him in the clearing just before daybreak the next morning. Private Persky had been Cook’s good buddy, and he was not taking his death well. Persky was growing more and more paranoid. He and Sassaba had never been friends, so he took the opportunity to take out his fears and frustrations on him.

“Hey Sassaba, maybe you should send up some smoke signals and let your cousins out there know to stop killing our guys!” Persky jabbed at him.

Sassaba was a fairly patient soldier, but Persky was pushing his luck. Sassaba squared up with Private Persky and was getting ready to throw a punch.

“That will be quite enough!!!” Tremblay stood up and exercised his authority. “Private, you keep that shit to yourself, or I’ll nail your mouth shut. If we don’t stick together out here, we’re dead. You hear me boys?!”

Sassaba backed away, showing respect for Lieutenant Tremblay but his eyes stared daggers at Private Persky.

…

By the next morning in Alamogordo, Officer Blackburn was dead. He had been killed sometime in the night prior to being relieved. His body was missing, but based on the copious amounts of blood that was found just outside the store, it was very unlikely he could have survived. His hat was found covered in sand. Why would his assailants take the body though?

Back at the station, Sargent Peterson was guilt stricken and angry. His friend and partner of ten years was dead. Chief Murrill absolved him of any responsibility, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. Peterson was ready to get back out into the field and start finding answers of his own with his pistol loaded and the safety off.

The Chief wasn’t ready to let him off the leash yet though. The working theory was that they were dealing with some type of homicidal maniac using some kind of construction or farm equipment to bash through walls and surprise people. But even that felt farfetched. The crimes just didn’t add up in any meaningful way.

A close examination of the evidence found that the shopkeeper Mr. Johnson’s rifle had been fired four times just prior to his death and he was renown as a crack shot. Who or what would have kept coming after Johnson while he was unloading a rifle at them? And who could have bent the rifle so easily?

The owner of the trailer from the first crime scene had been identified as an FBI agent who’d been on vacation. He had a wife and two children. Only the whereabouts of one of them was known at that moment. What had happened to the rest of them, no one could say for sure. The heat in the desert was extremely high that day, which was slowing down the process of searching for all the missing people. It was difficult and hazardous for both men and equipment to be out in the heat.

The FBI was actually sending agents to help with the investigation, since one of their own was involved. The Arizona State Police were happy to have the extra help. The more resources they had at their disposal the better.

The key piece of evidence was the casting from the original crime scene. It had hardened overnight and was ready to be examined. The only trouble was nobody could figure out what it was. It had a distinctly alien feel about it. A copy of it was made and overnighted to FBI headquarters in Washinton. The hope was that someone there with more experience might know what it was.

The other bright spot in the case was the little girl. She was likely a witness to everything that went on at the trailer and could hopefully shed some light on whatever happened there. For the moment, she was still in the hospital recovering. She’d been asleep ever since arriving there.

Mr. Johnson’s autopsy report had also come back, and the results were startling to say the least. The coroner came to deliver the results in person. He read it aloud for Chief Murrill and Sargent Peterson. He concluded that Mr. Johnson could have died from any one of five things. First, his neck and back were broken in five places, possibly from the fall into the cellar. His chest had also been crushed with multiple broken ribs and a fractured sternum. Johnson’s skull had been fractured too. And finally, and most bizarrely, his body was found to have lethal levels of formic acid within. The dose was strong enough to have killed him at least twenty times over. The medical examiner had no explanation how that could have happened. Perhaps his assailant had access to an enormous syringe and injected him with a fatal dose of the poison.

…

After the meeting with the coroner, Sargent Peterson was sent by the Chief to settle a dispute by two of Alamogordo’s ranchers. The men were neighbors and had a colorful history of not getting along well. Each had already accused the other of doing something dubious to them in the past. Half of the time it was true. They had been rivals for well over twenty years and the feud between them had grown more and more each year. Occasionally, it came down to actual blows. Each of them had spent a night in jail before. Peterson knew the Chief dispatching him to this call was his way of distracting him. Simply meant to keep him away from the real investigation.

The two neighboring ranches were on the outskirts of town, but it didn’t take Peterson long to get there. As he pulled up to the property, he could see the two ranchers, Jake and Ables, on their respective sides of the fence hurling insults at each other. After Peterson had simmered them down a bit, he finally got around to the business of deciphering what the most recent skirmish was about. Both of the ranchers were accusing the other of stealing cattle. Each of them insisted that they should be allowed to inspect the other’s herd and look for the proper markings. Each man branded their cows with their own unique symbol, and on opposite sides of their legs. Thus, it would be very easy to identify which cattle belonged to which rancher quickly.

Neither man was willing to let the other on their property though, so it was up to Sargent Peterson to do it himself. Peterson begrudgingly agreed to do a head count for them. Each rancher provided him with paperwork to verify the number of cattle they should have in their fields. Between the two of them, there were well over five hundred total animals. Peterson gritted his teeth, realizing that this duty was going to take him all day long. Indeed, Chief Murrill knew how to keep him busy. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. If he refused, the situation would only escalate between the two ranchers.

Peterson got right after it, using his head and enlisting the help of some of the farmhands to round up the cattle on horses so they could be corralled into a smaller pen. He would look the cows over one by one as they were brought in. That way, he wouldn’t have to run all over the fields tracking them down individually and getting them mixed up. Group by group, the cows were brought home and Sargent Peterson counted them. He found no cattle belonging to the other rancher mixed in with the herd. Just to be safe, he looked out over the fields to ensure none had been held back, and then in the various barns to ensure none had been hidden their either. There was none to be found. In the end, his head count was ten below what it should have been. Ables was indeed missing some cows.

Sargent Peterson was pretty surprised. He hadn’t expected there would actually be any missing cattle. He was anticipating the usual nonsense. Before saying anything to Ables, he went to inspect Jake’s livestock. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. To his shock, Jake was missing even more cattle than Ables. Cattle theft was still a pretty big crime in those parts. If Jake and Ables weren’t stealing them from each other, then whoever was would be in a world of hurt when the two of them found out who they were.

Sargent Peterson told Jake and Ables the bad news and the bloodbath was averted. The next step was to figure out what the hell happened to all of those cattle. Peterson wasn’t even sure where to start.

…

In the Sunblood Mountains, the surviving Rangers were discussing their next move.

“I think we’ve come to a point where it’s best to just cut and run, sir.” Private Persky suggested. “We’ve lost a man, our helicopter is smashed, and none of the pilots can still be alive at this point.”

“Private, do you realize we’re standing five-hundred kilometers away from the nearest patch of civilization?” Lieutenant Tremblay pointed out impatiently. “We can’t just march our way out of here. We need to find the other team and their chopper. That is our best chance of getting out of here alive.”

“We’ve been trying to reach them all morning over the radio, they ain’t picking up.” Persky argued. “How do we even know that they’re still alive?”

“It could just be the mountains interfering with the signal.” Tremblay reasoned. “If those boys are where they are meant to be at this point, then they are at a higher elevation than we are. We have to go over that peak to find them. Also, Bagorah’s sonic calls could be causing disruptions to our radio signals. It’s too soon to give up. If we try to walk our way out of here, we’ll just end up getting picked off by whatever is lurking in the woods. All I know for sure at this point is that we need to keep our heads.”

“Figuratively, or literally?” Persky said sarcastically.

“Both.” Tremblay replied unamused.

The Rangers spent the rest of the morning trudging up the mountainside. Tremblay tried to reach the second Ranger squad one more time, but only got static. He decided it was pointless to try again until they reached the far side of the peak.

Sassaba was acting strangely. He was constantly looking around them, as if he sensed that they were being watched. Up until that point, Lieutenant Tremblay had intentionally kept them clear of the woods, but now that they were climbing through the base of the mountain, it was impossible to avoid them. The group moved cautiously, constantly on the lookout for possible ambushes. The daylight would make that difficult for any would-be attackers though.

Up ahead of the Rangers, there came a rhythmic hammering. Every man came to a stop and listened to it. Whatever was causing the noise seemed to be coming from the near distance, somewhere up the incline ahead of them. As quickly as it started, it suddenly stopped. Tremblay urged his men forward but took the lead to evaluate the situation for himself. If a trap lay ahead of them, he wanted to be there to sniff it out.

One hundred yards up the slope, Lieutenant Tremblay happened upon a grisly sight that had been left for the Rangers. It was the body of a third pilot. He had been crucified onto the trunk of a large tree. Wooden roots had been hammered into his wrists, which were barely supporting his body weight. A nearby rock seemed to have been used as a tool to perform the task.

The other Rangers followed Tremblay and were shaken by the grim spectacle. Unfortunately, it was having the exact effect that it was intended to have. Just when it seemed like it couldn’t get any worse, an object was thrown right into the middle of the Rangers. It was Cook’s head, the soldier who had been killed the night before. His grave had been dug up and his body defiled.

Sassaba was the first to act. He turned in the direction that the head had been tossed from and opened fire into the brush, probing for hidden foes. Lieutenant Tremblay turned as well but found no targets. He suddenly feared the head-toss was a diversion and turned in the opposite direction expecting an attack from the flank, but again, there was nothing to be seen.

The team’s pilot was shaken by the turmoil and bolted up the hill to escape. He did not have the discipline of an Army Ranger. As he crossed by a tree, the ground gave way under him, and he fell into a pit that had been dug out. He was punctured by crudely sharpened tree limbs that lay at the bottom and was killed instantly.

“Son of a bitch.” Lieutenant Tremblay cursed when he came to the edge and saw what happened. “Everybody mind your damn footing! There may be more of these traps around here.” He slid down to collect the dead pilot’s firearm and ammo and then climbed back up.

“Sir, we are just going to leave him down there?” Private Persky asked angerly.

“Yes, that’s right.” Lieutenant Tremblay answered. “We don’t have time to deal with any more bodies. Those bastards in the woods following us would probably just dig him up again for the fun of it anyway. We need to locate the other team before it gets dark. I don’t like our odds if we are still in these woods by nightfall.”

Persky didn’t like it, but he could see what Tremblay was saying was true. He would just have to swallow his religious hangups about proper Christian burials and move on with the rest of them. Tremblay allowed him to say a couple of words before they got moving again.

…

Two hours later, the group of Rangers finally made it to the far side of the mountain and was able to reestablish contact with Sargent Vankampen’s group. The other group of Rangers had also found a pilot, though he too was regrettably already dead. That left just one more missing man. Tremblay instructed Vankampen to do his best to find the final man, but if they hadn’t found him by the time his team arrived, they were going to leave without him. There was no point of risking anymore lives when none of the pilots had survived thus far.

Sargent Vankampen gave Lieutenant Tremblay coordinates to rendezvous with his squad. It was as close as their helicopter could get to them before hitting a thick patch of woods that would prevent them from landing. Now Tremblay and his men just had to get there. Before Lieutenant Tremblay could ask Sargent Vankampen about any encounters they’d had with hostile forces in the area, their communications were disrupted again. Tremblay was agitated. At the very least, he wanted to warn the other squad to be on guard.

A half hour later, Tremblay’s party was making their way down the far side of the slope. By that point, everyone was getting pretty tired. Private Persky lost his footing and began to tumble down the rocky mountainside. The gradient was quite steep and Persky’s momentum carried him downwards to the point where he was out of control.

Lieutenant Tremblay and Sassaba were not in a position to stop Private Persky and they could see him stumbling towards a bluff with a steep drop. Persky saw it too and reached out to try to grab onto anything he could to slow himself down. He bounced off a small tree trunk which did in part diminish his rate of descent but cracked one of his ribs in the process.

Private Persky skidded towards the drop but managed to get hold of a sapling at the last possible moment. He hung halfway over the cliff, his legs dangling free. He lost his weapon over the side. Lieutenant Tremblay and Sassaba rushed down to help him, but they were still quite far away, and it didn’t look like Persky was going to have the upper body strength to hold out until they got there.

Unexpectedly, a man appeared from the forest and sprinted to Persky’s side. Judging by his flight suit, it had to be one of the missing pilots. He took Persky’s hand and pulled him clear of the cliff. Tremblay and Sassaba caught up and ushered the two men away from the drop.

“Who might you be, son?” Lieutenant Tremblay asked, out of breath.

“I’m Lieutenant James Murdock, Canadian Air Corps.” The pilot answered. “Are you guys here to get me out of this hell hole?”

“That’s right.” Lieutenant Tremblay replied. “And right now, you seem to be worth the effort. You have my thanks for saving my man. Have you seen any other survivors?”

“Just one.” Lieutenant Murdock began. “But he’s dead. Those things killed him.”

“What are they?” Tremblay asked. “Have you seen them?”

“No.” Murdock answered. “I’ve never let them get that close. That’s how I’ve stayed alive this long. But I sure can’t dodge them forever. Do you think anyone else is still alive?”

“No, now that we’ve found you, that accounts for everybody we were hoping to find.” Tremblay replied. “I’m sorry to say, it looks like you’re the soul-survivor of your squadron.” Murdock was obviously upset to hear that. “If we want to keep it that way though, we’d best get moving again.”

“Yes sir, I understand.” Murdock said keeping his emotions in check.

…

Back in Alamogordo, New Mexico, two scientists had arrived at the small airport. Dr. Harold Medford and Dr. Patrica Medford, a father-daughter duo. The two of them were brought in to help investigate the case. Five people were missing and presumed dead already, along with a significant number of cattle.

The first thing Dr. Harold Medford did, was insist upon seeing the little girl in the hospital. Sargent Peterson and Chief Murrill accompanied him. The girl had been near catatonic since being rescued. They could get her to eat and drink, but not much else. Peterson was quite concerned about her. He’d spent hours trying to talk with her, not to move the case forward, but just to get her back to some type of normal. She was such a sweet little thing.

As it turned out, Dr. Medford had a bold plan for reviving her. He had a theory about the attacks, though he was not confident enough to share it with the rest of the investigators yet. He feared that they might mock him if he revealed it without solid proof. He produced a clear bottle from his bag. He poured some of its contents into a glass and then held it up close to the girl’s face.

“What is that, Doctor?” Sargent Peterson asked.

“Formic acid.” Dr. Medford answered flatly.

“Acid…?!” Peterson began to protest, not liking that he was holding it so close to the girl’s face.

Before Dr. Medford could reply, the little girl began to detect the odor in front of her and then suddenly sprang to life. She brushed past Dr. Medford and nearly knocked the glass from his hand. The little girl frantically rushed to a corner of the room and sunk down putting her hands over her head fearfully. She was obviously scared out of her mind.

“Who are you afraid of?” Dr. Patrica Medford asked gently.

“Them!!!” The little girl replied, tears pouring down her face. “Them…! Them….!” She repeated, growing more agitated. Sargent Peterson came to her side and comforted her by picking her up and letting her latch onto him for security.

Everybody else in the room was confused by the little girl’s vague reply. But Dr. Harold Medford was satisfied by what he saw. The girl’s reaction to the formic acid was the only confirmation he needed. He didn’t need any more information from her at that point. Dr. Medford collected his things and then went to leave, simply disregarding the little girl in favor of his cold scientific method.

The rest of the group went to follow him, but Sargent Peterson hesitated, continuing to hold onto the little girl protectively. He didn’t want to leave her behind. She was so confused, frightened, and disoriented, and someone was going to have to explain to her what was happening. One of the nurses reached out for her though, and Peterson reluctantly gave her up. He still had a job to do.

…

At dusk, Dr. Harold Medford led the group out into the desert. Sargent Peterson was driving them in his squad car. It was still very windy, and it was necessary for everyone to wear protective goggles over their eyes to keep the sand out once they left the vehicle. Dr. Medford had instructed Peterson to take them to the location were the trailer had been found. Dr. Medford was still being tightlipped about what he felt was behind the attacks, but Peterson could see that he was growing more in confidence.

As it turned out though, Peterson wouldn’t have to wait for Dr. Medford to finally get his answer. As he searched the desert, he suddenly heard a strange noise coming over a nearby hill. It was the same sound he’d heard when he and Blackburn first found the trailer. This time, he was certain that it wasn’t just the wind. Peterson walked towards the slope, intending to look over the other side to come face to face with whatever was behind all of the terror, but he didn’t get the opportunity. Instead, it came to him first.

A huge black form rose over the ridge and crested the hill looking down at Peterson. The first thing he noted was a giant pair of gnashing mandibles aimed right at him. Peterson fell backwards, staring up at it. The mandibles were connected to a frightening and alien-looking head. The face was insectoid in nature. Peterson could see two feelers protruding out of the creature’s forehead, probing around. They seemed to detect him, and the creature came further over the hill.



Peterson got back to his feet and began to slowly back away, keeping his distance. He could see the beast’s whole body now. It had six slender legs connected to a narrow-segmented body. Its coloring was primarily black, with a glistening exoskeleton. The creature had eyes, but it didn’t seem to see particularly well. It appeared to rely on its antennae to navigate its surroundings. Peterson suddenly realized what it reminded him of. It much resembled a gigantic ant. When he was a kid, Peterson would look at them up close with a magnifying glass.

This thing was significantly more impressive though. It had to have stood three meters high and was perhaps fifteen to twenty meters long, though it was hard for Peterson to tell for sure from his position. The colossal ant continued to advance on him, and Peterson knew it was time to get the hell out of there. He drew his pistol, but he realized that it was pointless trying to fight it with such a puny weapon. Instead, Peterson took off running as fast as he could to warn the others.

When Sargent Peterson located them, Dr. Medford and the rest of the team were already retreating towards the squad car themselves. They too had encountered a giant ant, and it was following them. All of them dashed into the automobile. Peterson started the engine and began to pull away. However, the back of the squad car was snagged by one of the ants and it kept them from escaping. The bumper ended up giving way, and it came loose inside of the ant’s mandibles, allowing the car and its occupants to flee down the road.

Sargent Peterson didn’t slow down or look back. He just kept gaining speed and put more distance between themselves and the creatures. Before he knew it, he was pushing one-hundred miles per hour on a dirt road. With the loose gravel beneath them, it was starting to get dangerous. Finally, Patrica had to put a hand on his shoulder to let him know to ease off a little. Peterson understood and brought them down to a more reasonable speed. They were already well-clear after all.

“They’re bigger than I was expecting.” Dr. Medford offered up without any prompting. Peterson eyed him in the rearview mirror. It seemed that the good doctor was finally beyond his fear of being ridiculed. “Your search planes haven’t seen them during the day because it’s too hot for them. They only come out at night when the desert sands have cooled. They can only get so far in the night. I think that is about the only thing that has kept them from reaching town so far. They simply can’t get all the way from their nest and back before daylight.”

“What the hell are they?” Peterson growled.

“Atomic Bomb tests were carried out nearby here.” Dr. Medford explained. “I believe these huge ants are mutations resulting from the radioactive fallout. I suspect there is an entire colony of these creatures hidden somewhere out in the desert. There are perhaps as many as hundreds of individual organisms.”

“If that’s true, then we have a pretty big problem on our hands.” Sargent Peterson concluded.

…

In the Sunblood Mountains, Lieutenant Tremblay and his team encountered a sheer cliff while descending the mountain and were forced to take a slight detour. It had cost them precious time and guaranteed that it would be dark before they made it to the bottom. As they were on the final approach to the coordinates of Team B’s camp, they could see a light ahead through the trees. It was like a beacon drawing them in.

“Did those idiots actually light a campfire?” Tremblay thought pissed off.

If they did, he would just have to let it go for the time being. He just wanted to leave these horrid woods and never return again. It was almost funny. On the flight in, he couldn’t wait to get out of the air and onto the ground, but now he couldn’t wait to get back into the air. It was one of life’s little ironies.

“What’s that smell?” Private Persky asked, pulling Tremblay away from his inner thoughts. “Are they cooking something for us? Wouldn’t that just be the best welcome?”

As the Rangers came out of the forest, they could see that the light out ahead of them was more than just a simple campfire. It was an enormous bonfire with a dark figure intermingled amongst the flames. The silhouette was wearing the horned skull of a bull, giving him a demonic presence. As they continued to get closer, Tremblay quickly determined that the figure in the fire was in fact one of the Army Rangers who’d been strung up and burnt alive at the stake like some sort of ritualistic human sacrifice.

As Tremblay’s eyes started to adjust to his surroundings, the hellscape around him came into focus. It was like a painting straight out of Daunte’s Inferno. All of the soldiers of Team B had been killed. But not just killed, massacred and torn to pieces. Their body parts were scattered all around the camp in a grotesque fashion. Worst of all, their pilot had not been spared. Their helicopter was sitting twenty yards away in perfect condition, but there was no one to fly it.

“Can you pilot a Huey?” Tremblay turned to Murdock, hoping for the right answer.

“I can sure as hell try.” Murdock replied resolutely.

The surviving Rangers started to move towards the craft but were brought to a halt by the sound of a twig snapping nearby. It was all too clear, they were not alone. The Rangers closed ranks, and instinctively put their backs towards one another.

There was no time to think after that. The Rangers were assaulted by a group of large shadowy figures. They were big, tall, and incredibly hairy. They moved upright like men, but it was hard to define them as men for sure. If they were natives, then they had to have been wearing bearskin costumes to intimidate their enemies. If that was the case, it was certainly working on the Rangers at that moment.

Lieutenant Tremblay didn’t have to give the order to fire, each man was ready to fight for his life. The pounding crackles of machine gun fire broke the silence, and one by one, attackers were either driven off or gunned down. When they did go down, it took more than five hits per target. It was so dark, it was hard to tell what they were fighting, men or beasts.

The first wave of attackers fell back, giving the Rangers the time to retreat towards the helicopter. Murdock climbed into the pilot’s seat and fumbled around with the controls, trying to decipher what was what.

“Hold your ground!!!” Tremblay ordered the remaining Rangers. They needed to buy Murdock time to get the helicopter operational. If they all tried to climb in now, they’d expose themselves to another attack.

While Tremblay was shouting to his men, he didn’t notice a figure sneaking up on him in the dark. He turned just in time to save himself from being struck down. The muzzle flashes of his weapon revealed a face to him that would haunt him for the rest of his days. He’d never forget it.

The helicopter’s blades started to turn as Murdock found success, and the Rangers all began to get inside. They let off a few probing shots into the dark to discourage any more of their attackers from approaching. Tremblay was presented with a new dilemma. Could he hazard flying his team out of the Sunblood Mountains at night while Bagorah was out and active? He decided that they had to.

“Murdock, take us up!” Tremblay ordered.

“We can’t risk it!” Persky protested. “If we do, Bagorah will be right on us!”

“We can’t afford not to risk it!!!” Tremblay replied. “Let’s go!”

The helicopter rose out of the woods. Though flying clumsily at first, Murdock was growing in confidence with each passing moment as he adjusted to the controls and then started flying the survivors home. None of them would forget their experience. In the years to follow, their story would be just one more tale to add to the growing legend of the deadly Nahanni Valley

...

[mpsoldier]

Nice to see my suggestions were taken! Good job on the Canadian research. Most people assume that the Canadian Rangers are like the US version when in fact they are quite different. Instead of special forces they are a specialized branch designed to police and control areas way outside civilization. You had them using M16's which is certainly possible. But owing to their extreme isolation and combat being more likely against bears then people they are the only military unit in Canada still using the old Lee Enfield. Even in modern times, though they are now being phased out in favor of a more modern bolt action design. Also the Canadians use the C-7 which is TOTALLY DIFFERENT despite being freakishly identical and parts being largely interchangeable to the M16. So the Rangers likely would have carried an Enfield or perhaps either the C7 or FN-FAL. In your universe owing to the much lesser role WW2 played in history and the amount of Kaiju and near Kaiju menaces like the hornets/Kamacuras I think small arms would have gone the opposite way then in our history. The rifles would likely have gotten bigger, not smaller. I don't think mid calibers like the .223/5.56 M16 or the 7.62x39 AK/SKS would have become the standard armament. Bigger battle rifles like the FN/M14/Tokarov likely would have won out and remained much more common then in our history. Loving the update. Have not finished it as I am in my busy work month but reading it now. Great work.

[mpsoldier]

Follow up thought on that. In your World the anti Tank rifle that fell out of general use in WW2 would probably still be in use in your world. Stuff like the Panyerbushe, the PTRS and Canada's own truly terribly named "Boys Anti Tank rifle" would probably be a platoon weapon. To the detriment of shoulders and eye sockets everywhere.

[Ashram52]

…

Ha, you definitely know more about guns than I do. I probably could have done better research in that area.

For some reason, I was having a pretty hard time writing this chapter. I think I got too bogged down trying to balance out the A and B plot lines. It might have been wiser just to focus on one thing and then the other in the following chapter. Plus I really got off on a tangent about monster classifications, but that is something I’ve been working on since the beginning of the project. And that is one of those few ideas I still remember from my original notes.

As of today, I’ve managed to re-edit everything up to chapter 23 and moving on to chapter 24. I can tell I’ve finally gotten into old chapters where I had actual editing software. They’re getting a little easier to clean up now, though there are still some mind-blowing mistakes. A good editor I am not.

…

[mpsoldier]

To be fair I was a soldier so that gives me a sizable edge in the military/weapons department. And a nerd. My brothers and I often debate the best method to combat disasters and things. Which sometimes includes silly things like monsters/Kaiju. But your an artist and your model work and creations are masterpieces. You've got your own expertise that really elevates the work over a minor point like weapons. And you give thought to the big stuff like government and geopolitics so the minor stuff doesn't really matter. Have not finished reading new update but I'm starting to lean towards the new mystery villian being the giant ants. I hope so. I always liked them as the bad guys. Used them a few times in D&D. They are tough and efficient but also leave it being entirely valid when the heroes outsmart them. Also liking the Nahanni valley angle. It really is the picture perfect place for some mystery/monster/horror. Isolated, unexplored, tragic and mysterious history, it's got it all for that type of work. Most people think Canada is this happy, well run safe space. And that's fairly true in the settled regions. But if you go North that changes. It really is just a giant wilderness of varying types. Sure Toronto is packed but the Yukon's capital Yellowknife doesn't even have 30000 people.

[mpsoldier]

Yeah. Very nice work. Some good detailing on the local environment at Nahanni. Also good foreshadowing with the formic acid in the autopsy. It's a giveaway if your very familiar with the source material but I think for 90% of people it was a great clue that really only reveals if you combine with the other facts. The only real change I would offer is the one you pointed out already. It makes sense to link the two mysteries together in the chapter if they are strongly linked, but since they don't seem to have a real connection two seperate chapters would be better. Checked out the version of this story on fanfiction. Nice to see you getting the recognition you deserve. If you want to include any of my scenes in it that's ok. They are really just a tribute to this colossal work. Good job.

[Ashram52]

…

The movie version of “Them” does an outstanding job of building up the mystery and suspense. It weirdly really reminds me of Jame Cameron’s Aliens. I think Cameron had to be a fan of it. The parallels between the two films are pretty uncanny. The atmosphere of some of the scenes are the same, and even some of the plot points too.

The only thing that kind of sucks about “Them” is when you sit down to watch it, you know you’re getting into a movie about giant ants. So a lot of the mystery and buildup is kinda wasted. It’d be so much better not to know ahead of time. Maybe promote it like Godzilla, vs. the Thing, and censure out what the actual opponent is. But still, they did a masterful job with “Them”. Maybe when they did the original promos they did do something like that, I sure wasn’t there to see it. “Them” is definitely an above average 50s radioactive monster movie. Anybody who hasn’t seen it and is readying this, consider it an invitation.

Anyways, the giant ants will definitely be coming back next chapter. I followed the original story pretty closely in act one, but act two will almost entirely depart from the plot of the film. Hopefully, it will be just as good. The best thing about not being able to get to it right away is it gives me more time to think over how I want to do it. I got some good ideas already though.

…

[mpsoldier]

Yeah I just watched "The Forbidden Planet" and was expecting some cheesy 1950s goodness. But I was wrong. It's incredible. It was pre moon landing and somehow it still had the most realistic timeline of human advancement I've seen and actually addresses the problems of space travel. Sure it was limited by the scale of 50s effects but the story is great and in many ways the movie is better then almost any modern science fiction. Some of those old 50's movies are real cinema gems that transcend their limitations.

[Ashram52]

…

Forbidden Planet is definitely a classic. Can you believe that is a young ‘Leslie Nelson’ starring in a serious role? It’s hard for me to imagine him doing anything else but the slapstick Naked Gun movies. The thing that really makes Forbidden Planet is the great plot twist at the end. It definitely influenced a lot of newer as Sci-fi. And the effects were pretty good for it’s time. The invisible monster absolutely scared the crap out of me as a kid.

Anyways, Story Update: As of last night, I re-edited everything up to chapter 30. I have got to be getting close to the chapters where I started using my ‘updated’ editing technique (or at least I hope so). I’d really like to get to the point where I can fly through an entire chapter in an hour or two instead of painstakingly fixing several problems in every single paragraph. It’s been ‘quite’ the process so far.

I’m hoping to do just a few more of these ‘complete overhaul’ chapter edits before things start to smooth out. It should only be another 10 max, but I’m hoping it’s less than another 5.

I want to start on a new chapter now, but I kind of need to find one particular detail and revisit it before moving on, just to ensure things stay nice and consistent. I already had to go back and fix one major continuity error once. I’d like to avoid having to do that again. :

…

[mpsoldier]

Yeah I thought the same. Leslie Nielson is one of those rare people who maintains the same look as he ages. Plus he's got a distinctive voice so you absolutely know who he is. Yeah I kept waiting for a punchline too. Maybe there are other great 50s movies to use for content? Got to be more then Godzilla, Forbidden planet and Them.

[Ashram52]

…

Yeah, I’ll have to think about that.

For now, I know what the next chapter is going to be, and then maybe the one after that. I don’t want to get too sidetracked. I suspect there are a lot of people wanting me to progress the story in a more meaningful way. We are starting to get there though. Important character progressions and deaths, big fan favorite monster introductions. I know some people have enjoyed exploring the lesser known characters, but there have got to be readers chopping at the bit for more of the standard Godzilla characters to be introduced into the story.

I do have a really fun matchup planned in the near future. Should be a fun surprise for everybody.

Anyways, I’m working on re-editing chapter 33 now. I’m maybe halfway through currently. So I am continuing to make progress with editing.

…

[mpsoldier]

Or you could take the opposite approach. Use the TERRIBLE 50s movies. Plan 9 from outer space, the giant claw. It's ok to have a little fun too. But yeah I'm sure your right that people probably want Megalon, Gigan, maybe Destroyah, Orga, etc. But myself personally I am enjoying seeing some unknown Kaiju. It's like an education in the genre. And I personally don't like some of the later Kaiju. They become victims of monstrous inflation. In order to top the previous movie the writers make the villian bigger, badder, have more powers. Of the latter Godzilla films I think Biolante is the only one who can't fly and they can all shoot lasers. Destroyah, Biolante and Space Godzilla all have abilities that make them practically unkillable. I think this is a mistake. More powerful does not mean more interesting. Bigger does not make them more likable. They become so weird and out there that you can't identify with them in any way. They don't fit in with our planet or our ecology or our biology. Yes Kong and Anguiros are realistically too big to exist; but apes and Dinosaurs exist in Earth. We can overlook one fact and they fit. We can see them on our world and connect with them. That's important. They tap into our primal fears of monsters and yet we can empathize with them, they can be heroes or villains or just monsters and we can see it, feel it, understand it. Having unkillable giant monsters regenerating like Wolverine, shooting lasers, flying and having all kinds of other crazy abilities screams THIS IS A MOVIE. THIS IS A COMIC BOOK. That can be ok for cheesy entertainment, for a movie you watch once or twice for an hour and think "yeah that was ok." But you can't really love them, you can't really hate them, you can't really identify with them. Don't get me wrong, creatures like Ghidorah or Cthulhu CAN work. A super powerful alien monster that solely wants to burn the world? You can get into that if done right. But he's the opposite of Godzilla. He's the destroyer to Godzilla's protector. We can fear and hate Ghidorah because we can identify with Godzilla so a connection can be made. And something like Cthulhu has its place being so thoroughly alien and horrifying we cannot even comprehend what we're seeing or experiencing. But that's hard to write, hard to film, hard to create and if failed on any one level often fails on all. And it cannot be overdone or reused. So it's a very difficult balancing act that can absolutely work but will usually fail. Some might argue Destroyah, Biolante, Space Godzilla or even Mecha Godzilla could work being some form of Godzilla let you identify with Godzilla and so work. But it gets old, and tiresome, and overdone. It's just another contrived Godzilla expy with a crazy power set that yet again is somehow part Godzilla. It *may* work, but only if done right and it gets old. You guys can't come up with anything else but have Godzilla fight some version of himself? It's the Superman kryptonite conundrum. Hitting the same weakness over and over again is tiresome, strains the credibility of the characters and quite frankly is just LAZY. I mean really look at the later monsters. Space Godzilla is a space Godzilla who wants to cover the Earth in crystals and RULE THE WORLD. Biolante is a plant Godzilla who wants to cover the Earth in plants and RULE THE WORLD. Orga has Godzilla DNA and wants to cover the Earth in clones and RULE THE WORLD. Sure the stakes are high but we've seen it so many times and it's not at all interesting so it's just a "sure," and a shrug. I prefer monsters I can somewhat understand. Sure the fans chuckle at Ebirah or the Giant Condor but when you develop a realistic character you can go places with that character. Rivalries, friendships, hatreds can develop. You can feel stuff for them. You can cheer when they are defeated, feel for their losses, connect. Kong's heart beat scene and Godzilla being trapped in the volcano work because we can identify with them, feel sadness even though they can literally crush us like bugs. S