Snippet #1713089

A Small Greek Town

John hurried along with Ayo, bringing the injured man to Netanya. He grimaced. "Here's a prime example of why we're doing what we're doing, man," he murmured, shivering as he watched the doctor go to work on him.

The middle-aged Greek man choked out a few words in response to Netanya, understanding the Ancient Greek dialect fairly well. "Monsters," he cried in Greek, "Horrible, wonderful monsters!" The man groaned in pain before recounting his tale. "I was out, hunting. Had to get... something to eat. The snatchers got me. Not so bad at first, no, they have some fine..." he explained before cutting off. He continued, "They aren't so gentle once the deed is gone. Started picking at my body, miserable snatchers. But I got away, just barely... they keep flying on and off the mountains north of here. Should have avoided that part of the forest all-together."

John, once he had been given a rough translation by Netanya, weighed his options. By now, a small crowd had gathered to listen to the man's story; a story all-too-common recently. "Poor guy, he's so injured that he's delirious," John shouted for the benefit of anyone present who spoke English.

A teenager stepped forward angrily and exclaimed, "Ai sto diaolo! Why else would we be starving? If you don't think they're real, then go there yourself! No one's been dumb enough to go that far north, not even the reporters!" Two older adults, possibly the young girl's parents, pulled her back, scolding her in Greek. "Damn American!" she screamed one last time, followed by hushes.

"I'm sure there is a logical explanation," John retorted, "Monsters are silly. But don't worry, I'll get to the bottom of this." In a softer voice he commanded his teammates, "Alright. Let's get some aid over with and then we'll all head out just to see how scary those mountains really are. Probably just a bear, right? Or an eagle. Maybe a pack of wolves." He began walking back to the plane, which was still being unloaded.

"Either way, better get something to take it down," he called back, unloading his weaponry, "Netanya, finish up with him and make sure no one else is in immediate danger. Bobby, Ayo, help me pass out this food. We're from an Anti-Starvation organization, after all."

An Hour Later

After an hour of passing out food and chatting up the locals, they had managed to pinpoint a probable location. Due north of the little town, near the top of one of the taller mountains but probably low enough not to worry about lack of oxygen. Electric shotgun in hand, John led the way into the forest.

*ai sto diaolo: Greek for "go to hell."