The Legend


By David Hartley

Among the pebbles of the beach lie the teeth of the Loch Ness Monster. She was taken on a Christmas Eve when a cordon raised little notice. Medicine in her bones, they said, oil in her skull, the rarest flavour in her fins. Some anonymous pickled and mounted her eyes while the heart was smuggled, cremated and returned to the waters. Only the teeth were set aside for study. But as the New Year turned, a chartered plane took off in desperate weather and a chill ran away with the pilot’s spine.

Beneath skimming stones, the legend lives on.

David Hartley writes strange stories about strange things for strange people. He likes it when things are a bit strange.

5 thoughts on “The Legend

  1. When I read stuff like this, I wonder who the real monster is. Killed and pickled, and his bones studied…much like Tigers and Rhinos in India, who don’t know why they are being killed.


  2. Poor Nessy. But wait it’s been Halloween. Something else created in Scotland. Did I hear her in the night? Was it a strange roar I heard? Is the ghost of Nessy haunting us when the wind howls and the rain falls. They are forecasting more floods. Raising water and rivers breaking banks. It’s Nessy’s revenge.


  3. Poor, Poor Nessie, lost forever. But wait, last night was Halloween. Something else created in Scotland. Was that a strange roar I heard last night? Was it the wind that howled? The rain is falling. The river is rising and the banks are breaking. Water is spreading across the countryside, flooding houses, closing roads.
    Is this Nessie’s revenge?


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