Chernobyl Monster

(crime and horror story)

Futile…The day and night search of Arthur`s body, a 40-years old red-haired biker, called ‘Hothead,’ a berserk looking leather guy, got futile. This guy, well-known in the narrow circles of night motocross racers from Kyiv and Zhytomyr regions, just evaporated as dawn dew.

Police found only a gnawed ankle in a Harley-Davidson buckle boot allegedly belonging to him. It was lying on the bank of the Pripyat river covered with cruddy and smutty cane and reed wetland covering the slightly seen contours of the abandoned Chernobyl nuclear power plant…

The hilarious and hard all-nighter party of almost fifty bikers and their girlfriends was thrown nearby…somewhere 150-200 meters from a champed boot of the champ who won the Wild Monster Race stretching from the outskirts of Kyiv to the Chernobyl Alienation zone…

“How could it happen?” Fouled faced Lieutenant Kovbas threw his gloomy glance into the abyssal almond eyes of ‘Bagheera, the brunette girlfriend of Hothead with ‘zen’ tranquility in voice and graciously rapacious gestures.

“You mean who could eat him alive?” Bagheera raised her well-outlined right eye-brow.

“Still now it is not proved, we don`t have his body…On the other hand, do you have any ideas about it?” The Lieutenant got hesitated.

“He was told not to fish ‘hell horses’ here…

“You mean three meter long catfish, right?”

“Right, though the locals say that here, they turn into five-meter long mutants attacking birds, small domestic animals and even people…However, who could stop the champ of the Wild Monster Race to catch a Chernobyl monster?” Bagheera smirked in a slightly crooked way.

Ann, a thirty-year old blonde in a black bandana and black leather suit had red eyes indubitably indicating on heavy hangover, approached the police officer with a swaying stride.

“He just put three spinner fish-rods with rotten meat, over there, in reed thickets and after that came back to drink vodka and crack jokes, to boombox and bangfest…”

“When did you see him for the last time?” Kovbas squinted his eyes suspiciously.

Bagheera shrugged her shoulders, “I don`t know. Maybe, when I fell asleep somewhere at 2 a.m.”

“As for me, I got drunk too early and got a blackout somewhere in the dead of night,” Ann tried to concentrate, looking puzzled and funny at the same time.

“Hey, Robocop!” appeared a square built biker called Lumberjack. “Do forgive me, Lieutenant! Do you have any version about the death of Hothead?”

Kovbas waved his square head showing sad and silent ‘No.’

“That is what I thought…We racked the brains with our guys together and got such a picture…Unfortunately, instead of celebrating his motocross victory, our red-haired champion got an obsessive idea to hook a monster catfish to celebrate his glorious victory. He fixed three spinner fish-rods with rotten meat and kept on painting this Grim Reaper`s place red. We brought several boxes of vodka and champagne with us. All of them are empty now…”

“Please, dont get sidetracked, I will note down if you dont mind,” Lieutenant pulled a sketchpad out of his jacket.

“Okey-dokey. I have nothing against…So after that, at some moment, he went to check out his fish-rods and just crashed out nearby with a bottle of booze in his hand…We found it not far from two fish-rods,” Lumberjack rubbed his neck and clammed up for a while.

“What was next?”

“After that some girl cut off one of the fishing cords and fastened it to his ankle…”


“And some mutant catfish dragged him gradually in the dark waters of this deadly polluted river…”

“Why do think that it was done by some girl?”

“Because all our guys were drunk like Irish dockers. As for our girls, a half of them are health-nuts thinking just only about fun and shopping, beauty and love, and other female flubdub…”

“Well, your tale sounds splendid, but how did she get his gnawed boot out of the waters… ” Lieutenant smized slightly with his smoky eyes.

Lumberjack looked around and pointed at an old wooden boat landed nearby in the wetland thickets. “It has a wet waterline higher than the level of water. It means…”

The Lieutenant came closer to the shabby boat with a pair of wretched and wet oars, “What does it mean, Lumber?”

“That I am really right. Besides, Robocop!” Lumberjack spat down with irritation. “Why should I do your job? Use your own noodle…Let`s go girls,” the broad-shouldered biker took the hands of Ann and Bagheera and lugged them forcing to follow him.

“Maybe, there was some outside outlaw chasing him to revenge. Has he got some quarrels recently?”

“You mean the truck ‘n’ trailer driver whom he beat half to death for cutting the corners right before our riding bikes, right?” The big-shoulder guy turned back looking bemused.

“When did it happen?” Kovbas kept on writing down like Ted Cruz, detached from reality, solving all problems in an incompetently-competent way.

“A week ago, give it or take it,” Lumberjack spat on the soil once again.

“Do you have any info about this guy?” Lieutenant tried to grill the gloomy face of this ‘hard nut to crack.’

“Hey, Popcorn, I am not an Anthony, don`t eye me so hard. As for that guy, he is in a hospital with a swollen face and two broken ribs… I am off…Later, hater.”

When the leather dressed trio left the police officer and moved away at 50 meters, Kovbas asked in a loud voice, “Lumberjack, I need you just for one minute!”

The biker came back reluctantly, “What?”

“I have just only one question if Hothead harassed or insulted your girls?”

Lumberjack plunged into reflections and then squeezed out of himself, “He raped several of them…”

“Including Bagheera?”

“Including Bagheera…”

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