The Frenzy
The following takes place following: Lake Waldron
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BULL SHARK IN WALDRON LAKE: Four Swimmers Slain
By Brian Cavendish, Waldopolis Chronicle
Waldron is on edge after four swimmers were killed in the icy waters of Waldron Lake. The latest victim, 22-year-old Joseph Davis, was found dead yesterday after going missing while kayaking. Though the Waldron Sheriff's Department has refused to comment, an anonymous source confirms that authorities are investigating the possibility of a bull shark in the lake and are preparing efforts to eliminate it.
While most sharks dwell in the ocean, bull sharks are among the few species capable of surviving in freshwater. How the shark came to be in Waldron Lake remains a mystery, but the town—known for its winter wild swimming festival—is now in crisis. With the lake's beaches expected to close any day, fear is spreading through the community.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day, chaos overwhelmed Waldron. News of the bull shark had somehow made its way into national headlines, disrupting Sheriff Baker’s plan to handle the matter discreetly. A £7,000 reward posted by the first victim’s father had attracted a flood of amateur fishermen to the harbour, all eager to capture the creature and claim their prize. Meanwhile, activists from the city had arrived in droves to protest the hunting of the shark, arguing that the lake was the shark’s rightful home. Tensions mounted as the activists clashed with the frightened townsfolk, who were desperate to see the shark destroyed.
A furious standoff between the two groups grew more heated by the minute. Sheriff Baker and his deputies were frantic, trying to maintain order amidst the chaos. The streets were thick with shouting, and boats bobbed uneasily in the harbour as fishermen prepared their gear. Master Devlin and Travers stood on Main Street, observing the madness. The master turned to Travers, his face hardening into a sharp, furious glare.
Travers: "Don't look at me like that, Master Devlin... I'm still a journalist... Besides, the truth would have come out eventually."
Master Devlin: "You are a fool, Travers—a total fucking fool. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Yes, yes, of course, the truth would have to come out eventually, but this is why we suppress the press during major investigations—to avoid a fucking frenzy. Could you not have held off for a while and shown some restraint? Now we have animal rights activists and LGBTQ advocates accusing us of sharkphobia. How do you expect us to carry out a thorough investigation with all this chaos?"
The sheriff approaches the two of them, absolutely furious.
Sheriff: "Well, this is just great. Really great. The whole town is now a goddamn circus. Look at this place—Just Stop Oil has turned up here too. So… which one of you assholes leaked this to the press?"
The Master turns and fixes Travers with an angry glare.
Master Devlin: "Well, Travers?"
The sheriff steps forward, towering over Travers and looking down at him.
Sheriff: "Well, son… is there something you’d like to say?"
Travers: "I have no idea. It must have been one of the local fishermen you were talking to... These things have a way of getting out. What’s important now is what you’re going to do about it. Turn the hose on these jerkoffs, I say!"
The sheriff holds up a copy of today’s issue of the Waldopolis Chronicle, the banner headline prominently displaying Travers’ face.
Sheriff: "So that isn’t you on the front page of the newspaper?"
Travers: "Well... Um... Yes. But let’s just move past it, shall we? It’s in the past. Master Devlin is an experienced fishmonger. He’ll catch your fish. And I’m with him!"
Sheriff: "I should have you arrested."
Travers: "Hey, hey! I didn’t sign anything. You didn’t specifically tell me not to tell anyone."
Master Devlin: "I don’t know, Travers. Maybe a few nights in a cell will sort you out."
Travers: "No, Master Devlin... That suggestion is out of turn. I’ve had quite enough of that lately."
Sheriff: "Yesh, well, that’s the thing about freedom of the press. You can run the story, but the real question is whether you should."
Master Devlin: "Unfortunately, Mr. Travers is woefully unburdened by a moral conscience."
Travers: "You mean like covering up vampires killing humans to stop vampirophobia? That’s for other papers. We print the facts, sir."
Master Devlin: "You only broke that story to sell papers... Let’s not beat around the bush."
Travers: "A happy coincidence! Now, gentlemen, let’s be reasonable. This is neither the time nor the place to debate journalistic ethics. We have a man-eating fish to catch—and some pesky activists to deal with."
Sheriff: "Right. I need to go and deal with some of these disturbances. Master Devlin… I trust you’ll look into this shark business for me. And keep this one on a leash, will you?"
Master Devlin: "Yes, Sheriff."
Travers: "Hello! Hey, Sheriff, who’s the MILF?"
Sheriff Baker turns to see a moderately attractive woman in her forties, clad in a tailored blazer, skirt, and polished heels, marching towards them, flanked by two men in sharp black suits with earpieces. Sheriff Baker groaned softly, running a hand down his face.
Sheriff: "Great. Mayor Eleanor Grayson. That’s all we need…"
Mayor: "Hello, Bob. Care to explain why my charming little tourist town has been turned into a culture war battleground?"
Sheriff: "Mayor, I—"
Mayor: "I’ve spent months preparing for the festival, and now, instead of an influx of happy visitors, we’ve got amateur fishermen and animal rights activists screaming at each other in the streets. This is not the kind of tourism I had in mind!"
Sheriff Baker opened his mouth to reply, but she barreled on, her voice growing sharper.
Mayor: "A shark in the lake! And you thought the best course of action was to turn the whole town into a national spectacle?"
Sheriff: "Madam Mayor, we’re working on the problem. We’ve got plans to deal with the shark—"
Mayor: "By killing it?"
Sheriff: "Uh… yeah."
Mayor: "For Ed's sake, Bob... Have you seen the protesters out there? Do you realize what kind of PR nightmare this could be for the town??"
Sheriff: "It’s killed four people, that we know of. And two more are still missing—"
Mayor: "You don’t know that!"
Sheriff: "Madam Mayor, we have strong forensic evidence to believe—"
Mayor: "But you don't know for sure!! You don’t know that this supposed shark is responsible—if it even exists at all. And even if it were, this would be the first documented shark not only in our lake but in any Waldonian waters. Do you really want Waldron to become famous for murdering an endangered species? That’s what you’ll get."
Sheriff: "We have bodies in the morgue with bite marks consistent with that of a shark—"
Mayor: "Oh, I see what this is. Species profiling! That’s what this is. And it’s going to hurt this town more than the shark ever could. Well, I won’t have it. Not in my town. I’ll be damned if we’re going to descend into a bunch of backward, bigoted yokels under my watch..."
Sheriff: "How do you propose we handle this, then?"
Mayor: "That’s your job. Figure it out. Just don’t harm the shark—if there is one..."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Baker rubbing his temples and muttering under his breath.
The sheriff notices a group of overeager fishermen dangerously overloading a boat at the harbour. With a sharp curse, he rushes over, shouting for them to unload and follow regulations, leaving Master Devlin and Travers behind on the bustling main street.
****
As the two stroll closer to the crowd, they encounter a heated scene. Protesters boo loudly at an older man speaking passionately in front of a camera. Short and stout, the man radiates the ruggedness of a lifelong seafarer. His weathered face and scruffy grey beard are framed by a battered cap and well-worn jumper. Across from him stands a young woman, her dreadlocks pulled back, a pierced nose gleaming in the winter sun, and tattoos snaking out from beneath her coat. She seems to be his adversary in a fiery debate that’s drawing the crowd’s fervent jeers and applause. The heated exchange drew Devlin and Travers closer, curiosity sparking as they approached the crowd.
Young Woman: "...It’s exactly because of outdated and dangerous myths like the rogue shark theory that sharks are endangered in the first place! These magnificent creatures are being hunted in their own homes because of fear-mongering nonsense!"
Old Man: “The rogue shark theory is not a myth! I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Just because it doesn’t fit your agenda doesn’t mean it’s not true.” The young woman flushed with indignation.
Young Woman: "How dare you?? I am a marine biologist!”
Old Man: "Please… You're a woke slacktivist masquerading as a scientist. I'm an actual marine biologist, and I've been one a hell of a lot longer..."
Young Woman: "Well, unlike you, Mr. Hooper, I’ve actually stayed up-to-date on the science. The academic community has left your dangerous, outdated theories behind for a reason. Sharks aren’t mindless killers—they’re victims of human fear and exploitation!" Hooper: "Victims? Spare me the lecture, lady. You don’t understand predators because you’ve never been in the water with one. You’re too busy tweeting about coexistence from the comfort of Starbucks. The ocean’s not some safe-space hugbox—it’s the real world. And in the real world, sharks are killers... Deny it all you want, but sooner or later, someone pays the price for your naïve idealism. I’ve studied sharks for over 70 years, and I love them. But let me tell you this—some sharks kill people. Sometimes it’s mistaken identity, but sometimes it’s not. The fact is, some sharks develop a taste for humans, and they’ll keep attacking until someone stops them. I've seen it myself. And guess what? We’ve got such a rogue on our hands right here in this lake. But I doubt you’d wake up to that truth even if it swam up right now and bit you in the ass!" The crowd of locals and fishermen erupted with a mix of cheers and jeers. These prompted the other side to start chanting slogans such as “Get out of the shark’s house!” and “Justice for Jaws.” The charged atmosphere was palpable as both sides dug in, the ideological clash as fierce and unyielding as the rogue predator lurking in the lake. The old man shook his head and walked away, heading for the edge of the boardwalk, where he stared out at the lake. Meanwhile, another activist wearing a hijab grabbed a megaphone, starting to speak about how the LGBTQ+ Muslim community had allied with the sharks and how climate change was to blame for the shark’s appearance in the lake.
****
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Attention: All Residents and Visitors of Waldron
By order of the Mayor’s Office and the Sheriff’s Department, swimming and boating on Lake Waldron are hereby prohibited until further notice due to the believed presence of a shark in the lake. Be assured that a specialised team has been engaged to safely capture the shark alive for relocation.
We understand this may cause distress to some and inconvenience to others, but it is essential that we prioritise the safety of all individuals while maintaining a balanced approach to both public safety and environmental responsibility.
Thank you for your cooperation.
Sincerely,
Mayor Eleanor Grayson
Sheriff Robert Baker
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later that night, in the dimly lit town hall, Master Devlin and Travers sit at the long table, waiting. Jacques, the seasoned local fisherman, leans in the corner, his arms crossed. The door swings open, and Sheriff Baker enters, flustered, followed by Dr. Hooper, who is already in the middle of a heated discussion.
Hooper: "I'm telling you, if you set that shark free somewhere else, you're just going to have more blood on your hands."
Sheriff: "Thank you, Dr. Hooper. We'll take that under advisement… Gentlemen! Thank you for waiting. This is Dr. Matthew Hooper, with the Hooper Marine Research Institute. He’s agreed to help us with this shark problem... Dr. Hooper, this is Master Devlin of the Masters Council, and that over there is Jacques Boudreaux, an experienced fisherman in these parts..."
The Master stands up and extends a hand.
Master Devlin: "Dr. Hooper, pleasure to meet you. I believe I recall seeing you on the cover of National Geographic back in the '70s..."
Hooper: "That's right... Master... Devlin? That's quite a memory..."
Master Devlin: "Yes. Something to do with a large great white in New England?"
Hooper: "25-foot rogue, terrorized an island town..."
Master Devlin: "Ah, yes. That sounds familiar. Unfortunately, I haven't heard much about you since?"
Hooper: "Well, you wouldn't... Let's just say I've fallen out of grace with most of my peers... They'd rather pretend I didn’t exist… My views and experience are considered… problematic."
His gaze turns down toward the little goblin curiously.
Hooper: "Hello there, young fella. And who might you be?"
The goblin extends a flipper.
Travers: "Harris Travers. Editor-in-chief of the Waldopolis Chronicle... I will be joining you on this voyage."
He reaches out to shake Travers' hand, only to notice how smooth it is.
Hooper: "You've got city hands, Mr. Travers. I’m not sure this is the kind of voyage for you… This won’t be plain sailing, I can assure you."
Travers: "I assure you, Dr. Hooper, I’m tougher than I look. I even killed a large demon with an axe once... Besides, had it not been for my story, you wouldn’t even be here."
The door opens again, and Mayor Grayson walks in. She gives a small nod of thanks to the party.
Mayor: "Gentlemen, thank you for attending. We’ve chosen you because you all bring unique skills to the table. Jacques, your local knowledge and experience on the water are invaluable. You will also be using his boat. Master Devlin and Dr. Hooper, your expertise in marine biology will guide our approach. Together, we’ll work to safely remove the threat without harming the shark."
Hooper: "I still think that's a bad idea—to take it alive… Even if we manage to catch it unharmed, where are you going to put it? In the ocean? It already has the taste for human flesh... Besides, if we cut it open, we can prove it was responsible for the deaths—"
The mayor raises her hand, cutting him off.
Mayor: "I appreciate your expertise, Dr. Hooper, but we will not be killing the shark. We cannot afford the backlash—public opinion would be a nightmare. As for relocation, I understand the council has some ideas?"
Master Devlin: "The Masters Council specialises in rehabilitating troublesome creatures and has considerable resources. While we don’t normally deal in marine life, I’ve already made arrangements to house the shark in a safe, secure environment."
Jacques: "City slickers and their highfalutin ideas... Give me a big ol' stick o' dynamite and I'll take care of the problem, right quick... Just like my grandpapi did with Ol' Francois..."
Hooper: "Fine... I don't like it. I still think the shark should be put down. But I’ll help find it. For now."
Mayor: "Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate your dedication. I wish you all the best of luck on your voyage tomorrow."
Before she turns and leaves, Travers catches her attention.
Travers: "If I might—Madam Mayor, it’s an honour to be here. Harris Travers, national treasure and investigative journalist at your service."
He smoothly takes her hand and kisses it.
Travers: "If you like, you can buy me dinner when we return..."
The mayor looks down at him, confused but also somewhat amused.
Mayor: "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Travers... But um... Well, bring me back that shark alive, and we can talk dinner… Ed speed, gentlemen."
The Waldoverse continues in George