Why Is That Rabbit Watching Me? GM-Thomas Grooms

Setting: Kilmahog (a hamlet situated half a mile to the west of Callander), Scotland June 1927. Callander is a small town in the council area of Stirling, Scotland, situated on the River Leny, located in the historic county of Perthshire. 

Local Folklore: In Mr Rogers’ (1853) fine historical tour of the region, he notes:

Samson Stone

Kelpies

The Red Well

1. The nearby Samson Stone “on the summit of one of the eminences of Bochastle,” a couple of miles west of Callander. Legend has it, the Samson Stone was traditionally thrown here by one of the Fingalian giants in ancient times.  It was originally located upon Ben Ledi, nearly 3 miles northwest, and was one of several stones being thrown in a competition to see who was the strongest of the giants — and Samson was the name of the one who threw this huge rock.
2. The superstition of water be it lakes, rivers, falls (such as Bracklinn Falls near Callander), the sea as the abodes of divinities that could either help or hurt man. For example, it was unlucky to rescue a drowning man from the grasp of the sea. The belief, “To save a sinking man is to snatch a victim from the very clutches of the water-spirit—a rash defiance of deity which would hardly pass unavenged.” And least not forget the strange creatures that have their home there. The mighty sea serpent and the less formidable mermen and mermaidens, and the Shetland islands merfolk also known as Sea-trows.
3. A slightly darker myth that lies in and around Scottish waters are the supernatural, shape-changing Kelpies. Kelpies were said to take the form of a horse although they could also take a human form. They would use their beauty to lure people to climbing upon them before being taking them into the water, not to be seen again.
4. On a more pleasant note, the Red Well near Callander is a Chalybeate Spring which was renowned for its remedial properties. Chalybeate waters, aka ferruginous waters, are mineral spring waters containing salts of iron.

Hook: Two vacationing English parents refuse to give up searching for their daughter, Nina, even as the Scottish village search party abandons their efforts after days of hunting. Can they and their few companions trace what happened?

John Cummings (Thom): 31yo Father of Nina (Banker, lives in London).

Lydia Cummings (Mike): 30yo Mother of Nina (Librarian, lives in London).

Karen McAllister (Bill): 22yo Reporter for Perthshire Advertiser. Has been staying at Riverside Cottage with the Cummings since June 27. Ambitious but often sabotages herself by saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. Very impulsive and a chain-smoker when stressed.

Detective Alastair Campbell (Dakota): 49yo Friend of family works for Scotland Yard; just arrived in Callander by morning train from London. Is escorted to Riverside Cottage by Colonel Buchannan.

Colonel Timothy Buchannan (Findar): 43yo WWI veteran who is assisting the Constable in the search efforts (wounded in left leg). Born and still resides in Callander.

Karen’s article draft: While the local villagers of Kilmahog may have given up search efforts, Nina Cummings’ parents are resolute in their belief their daughter is still alive. They have gone so far as to enlist the help of a renown Scotland Yard detective and their own local Great War veteran who knows the land. Together, they hope to bring Nina home safe and sound. Reporting live, from the Cummings’ Riverside Cottage, Karen McAllister.

Mrs. Bev McNickols set the breakfast table out of habit. Her guests, the Cummings, had not the appetite as John just stared out the window towards the river where Nina last seen. Lydia sat at the table going thru another box of tissues, “Why did they stop the search so soon? She’s just an eleven-year-old. I know she is still out there alive. Lost and scared.” Only then did she notice the pair of iron scissors hanging out of Bev’s apron. “These? Truth be told, superstition. I believe in faeries and iron is said to be a good luck charm against them.” Karen stood over the breakfast table, grabbing another pastry as she reviewed her notes. Forgetting to use her inner voice, “The girl missing. Local legends about water superstitions. Could she have fallen victim to a water-spirit?”

And that’s when they heard a car arriving. Bev announced, “Oh good. That must be Col Buchannan bringing your detective friend.” After brief introductions, John led the group out the back, thru the fenced garden and past a shed to the river edge. John relived the event, “I don’t understand. Nina was at my side as we fished. No sounds other than the quiet babble of the slow River Leny. But when I turned around, Nina gone. I know she didn’t fall in; the current would have carried her before me. No, she just disappeared.” As Alastair scanned the area, he couldn’t help but notice the half-dozen or so rabbits staring down at them from the railroad embankment to the south. All squatted on their hind legs, their noses twitching. Once more John called out, “Nina. NINA! Answer me sweetheart!”

As they turned back towards the cottage, they noticed an elder, arthritic woman leaning heavily on her cane as she walked down the gravel road towards them. “Sorry I didn’t help on the search. Conny Young. Bad knees you know. I…I don’t know how to say this. I’ll just come right out. My husband Hamish came home last night, distraught, saying he’d seen your daughter. Wouldn’t say more, just locked himself in his room.” John took off running toward her finger pointing, till the Colonel called him back, “Pile in the car with your wife. Faster.” As the car circled back toward the bridge, Karen came running out to follow on foot. (She’d wasted time retrieving her camera.)

Conny climbed out of the car and led them into the house, “Care for tea?” John ignored her, “We’re not here to socialize; where is your husband?” He tried the locked bedroom door, “Mr. Young? Hamish, are you in there? Good God man, you say you saw my daughter… where?” No answer and something barred the door. Alastair went outside to look thru the window where he saw Hamish sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands covering his face. The detective rapped on the window to get his attention, “Please unlock the door. We want to ask about the girl.” Hamish opened the door just as John was about to shoulder it open. “Was she alright? Hurt? Why didn’t you bring her home? Where is she?”

Hamish quivered as the colonel sat beside him on the bed trying to calm him. “Last night. Midnight. I heard a strange noise. I swear I saw her rummaging thru our trash pile. I called out, said her name. She just looked at me… cocked her head. Close enough I could see she covered in some kind of… grease? Tar? Something on her back, like a large slug. With eyes. Many eyes. And mouths that hissed at me. She just ran off.”

John bolted from the room and flew out back per directions to the pile. The others close behind. Karen with her camera took pictures. Inside, Hamish continued with the colonel his audience, “She ran toward the bridge back to their cottage. But not on 2 legs. At least four.” The colonel close enough to smell his breath for alcohol. Rock gut moonshine? But there was no smell.

John found an apple recently bitten as if by a child. He found tracks nearby but them not human. Frustrated, angry, he exploded, “Alastair, tell that damn reporter to get the hell away. Pictures? And comments about water-spirits. She’s only here for a story.” Alastair understood but first stooped to look at the prints. Definitely not of the natural world of Scotland or England or anywhere else he could imagine. “Click.” Alastair looked up to see Karen, “Miss McAllister, if you a moment. You are unsetting the Cummings. Can’t you be more discrete? Otherwise, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Karen turned red with embarrassment, “I was only trying to help. Evidence if you need to review later.”

The colonel joined in the track of the strange prints. Lydia reasoned them rabbits, “See the two lead impressions probably its hind legs. That larger impression its butt hitting the ground.” As they followed, the prints grew wider apart. Then another pair joined in. And more. A pack of rabbits? Now long strides. The colonel perplexed, “I’ve done my fair share of hunting in the area, and I must say I’ve never seen the likes of these.” They neared the bridge and checked under its buttresses, “Maybe she’s napping.” As if the prints of something carrying the girl? Nothing.

Dejected, John gave up, “We’re just wasting time following wild animals.” But that’s when they saw more rabbits along the trail. They’d followed the people but now just sat and watched. Alastair unnerved, “Rabbits are usually more skittish.” He threw a stick; they barely sidestepped. Lydia and the colonel commented on their eyes, “They look moist and matted. As if pink-eye tears. Could they be rabid?” But John cared less as he strolled thru them, swinging his legs to kick at any too nearby. Only when Alastair reached for one did they all scatter and leave.

John more angered at Hamish’s bullshit story, “The drunk bastard sending us on a wild chase.” They drove back to the Riverside Cottage to regroup. The colonel asked Karen along, “I want to return home and grab my hunting rifle.” At the end-of-their-ropes, John and Lydia just sat drinking tea, staring into space. Alastair continued his investigation, “I’ll drive over to the Bochastle Farm where you say Nina played with their little girl, Edith. Maybe they had a special hangout.”

Sheep dotted the pasture as he drove up to the farmhouse to introduce himself to the farmer and his border collie. Small talk pleasantries to set them at ease as Mary Finns offered tea and biscuits before leaving to get Edith. Paul sat on his porch rocker smoking his pipe, “Sure hope you find the girl. Can’t imagine losing my little girl. Strange prints you say? That’s a funny drawing. No, never seen the likes around here. Pass along my apologies for not helping with the search. Some fool knocked down my stone wall fence a few days ago and my ram Tam escaped. Been looking for him since. That and farm chores keep my busy.” Mary arrived with Edith who seemed troubled by the loss of a friend. No real help.

Meanwhile, during the drive to the colonel’s home in Callander, he used the opportunity to coach Karen on proper manners. “Maybe you are trying to help, but your words and actions are a little to inconsiderate. Think before you act next time.” At the house, he offered up a shotgun for the girl, “Know how to handle one of these?” He kept the shells in his own pocket when he realized she hadn’t a clue, “I’ll give you some lessons first.” But Karen had other ideas as she accepted the shotgun, “I really do want to help. Would you mind swinging by your library? Maybe we can find books that have those prints. I study mythology and lore; maybe those books might give a clue what we are dealing with.”

[Library 90, push 06] The librarian directed them to the history section where they came up blank. Karen asked to see books about local legends. “Here’s an interesting story. Legend of the Black Beast of 1652. All God’s creatures ran amuck in fear of it. Chaos and destruction till a blacksmith forged an iron collar to bind it and cast it back into the pit from which it emerged. Sealed with sword and stone. Doesn’t mention where this pit might be.”

Back at the cottage, John wondered what inspired Nina to walk off. Lydia confessed, “The Velveteen Rabbit was her favorite book.” Bev awkwardly admitted, “She did like it when I read her Alice in Wonderland.” They looked at each other, “You don’t suppose she chased after those rabbits?!” John jumped up with a new purpose and went back outside to stand in the garden where he mused, “If I was a little girl, where might I run off to?” No rabbit holes in the yard but he saw plenty up the hill and began a search.

And that’s when all heard a distressing animal cry as if hurt, coming from the hill. John climbed faster as his mind envisioned the cry from Nina. He avoided holes that dotted the hillside but that’s also when rabbits suddenly popped up, surrounding him. Were they trying to protect their own? He suddenly had the vision of Nina falling into a large rabbit hole, which spurred him onward thru the mass of rabbits almost blocking his way. Lydia came outside and saw John climbing and took pursuit. She just began to climb when sunlight flashed on something wet hanging from a tree branch. She looked closer… a blue ribbon 7 ft up the tree. “JOHN! It’s Nina’s. Nina’s ribbon!” She could only wonder how it got caught so high up. And why moist considering it hadn’t rained all week? But John was preoccupied with rabbits underfoot. Almost rabid in their attack. But there was also that scream up the hill. John torn in which direction to follow.

Meanwhile, as Alastair drove back from the farm, he stopped along the way after spotting a young man lifting stones beside the road. Phil stopped work to answer, “This is where we kept Tam, our prized ram. He is king of this place. Father and I looked everywhere. Maybe someone stole him. They could have rammed the wall to get at him.” Alastair stepped out of his car to search. No tire tracks to show anyone ramming the wall. None of those strange tracks back at the cottage, but he did find ram tracks that crossed the road and headed west toward the hills. Phil wiped his forehead as he took a break, “That’s Samson Hill to the north. Fabled giants tossed the boulder to prove their strength. The hill south of it is the old Dunmore Fort. Us locals avoid it. Just spooky.” That’s when the detective noticed the time and realized he had a girl to find. Not a runaway ram.

By now, the colonel and Karen returned to the cottage. Where Bev told them about the Cummings climbing the hills to the southwest in pursuit of an animal in distress. They cupped their hands over their eyes to spot the parents climbing the hill. And as if on cue, the piercing rabbit wail erupted, scaring the bejesus out of Karen. “What the hell was that?!” But the colonel was focused on John, “He’s waving for us to follow. You go girl, I’m too crippled to climb. Just slow you down.” From the hilltop, they could barely hear John, “Call Alastair to come help!”

Karen took off running to help. She was almost up to Lydia when she trip in a rabbit hole. Face plant. And now face-to-face with a pack of furry critters. That seemed furious as they snapped and clawed. Karen raised the shotgun to blast them, “Click, click.” Only now remembering the colonel had emptied it. From a kneeling position, she swung it as if a long club. But they only jumped over the barrel as if playing hopscotch and continued to bite. Karen grabbed two and slammed them against the fork of a tree branch, snapping their necks. Outnumbered and bleeding, Karen retreated down the hill, leaving the shotgun behind. “HELP!” The colonel raised his rifled and blew two of the critters away that chased the reporter.

John and Lydia turned at the sound of the rifle shot, which only created a distraction as they too were being overwhelmed by swarms of rabbits. Vicious little things! “Nina! Make some noise so we know it’s you.” But all they could hear was the snarl of rabbits and their chomping teeth. John snatched two off of Lydia and broke their necks. He grabbed Lydia’s hand as they both gave up the hunt and retreated back downhill. And that’s when Alastair arrived to see the Cummings running downhill for their life. To hear the colonel calling for Bev, “Bring your scissors.” [No running with scissors!] While Bev bandaged Karen, the colonel plucked a rabbit from inside Karen’s coat and placed the scissors against it. “Maybe iron is the trick.” But it had no effect, so he stabbed it. Alastair met the Cummings halfway and aided their retreat. John reasoned, “We need a damn flamethrower!”

As they gathered back inside the cottage to tend wounds and regroup, the colonel prodded Karen, “Tell them what you found in the library.” She described the legend of the black beast defeated with an iron collar. John only more irate, “Screw your damn spook stories. We need tangible news. You and your damn newspaper article.” Karen tried to defend herself, “I’m sorry you feel that way Mr. Cummings but I came running to your aid! I’m trying to help and almost got killed trying!” She withdrew to the kitchen table and began chain smoking in quiet solitude.

The same rabbit squeal sounded from out back. John grabbed a butcher knife while Lydia grabbed the iron fireplace poker. They all looked outside and saw more animals. Deer, foxes, goats. They all seemed in unison sieging the cottage. Piecing together his news of the escaped ram and Karen’s legendary black beast causing chaos till bound in a pit, Alastair asked the colonel, “What can you tell me about your Dunmore Keep?” The colonel explained, “Well, for one thing, no one goes up there. Superstition. But now that you mention it, not a pit, but there is an old well up there.” Karen had to speak up, “If you find a black beast up there, remember, I warned you.”

Alastair pulled the shotgun down that hung over the cottage fireplace, “Bev, do you have any shells?” The colonel stepped out to his car where he had left the box of shells for the shotgun he gave Karen. The others watched him with concern about all the threatening animals.

Even deer that had strange black growth across their back and chest. While the colonel did get the box of shells, all noticed the black tar splats on both car hoods and all fenders. And closer look to realize all tires flat. “Those damn animals bit through the rubber! We ain’t going anywhere soon.” Which John confirmed from the 2^nd floor bedroom window, “They got us surrounded.” John boldly made a torch, “I’ll run to town to get help.” He barely made it to the cars before the animals converged. He threw the torch and retreated back inside.

Trying to prove herself and her theories, Karen asked Bev for her 2 biggest iron skillets which she carried thigh level into the yard as armor protection. She too chased back inside. “I don’t understand, they are supposed to be afraid of iron.” Karen returned to her chair and pulled out another pack of cigarettes. The colonel borrowed one of the skillets and went out to capture a rabbit. Which he brought inside for dissection. Using the scissors, he stabbed it to death as everyone endured its pitiful scream. Nothing odd while skinning it. Nor oddities with its organs. But when he cracked open the skull, black tar oozed out. The same stuff they found near the trash pile. “Why the brain? How did it get there?” John approached with a saltshaker, disappointed no reaction from the tar or brain-matter. However, when the colonel picked up the scissors and accidently passed them near the brain, the tar seemed to withdraw. “What the hell?!”

John got the idea to taint a bucket of water with rust to throw at the animals outside.  Bev remembered, “I’ve got a sprayer out in the shed.” Unfortunately, the nozzle clogged after the first 2 minutes. Didn’t matter, no effect from what he did spray. Lydia commented, “I noticed when you went outside thru the garden, no animals came near the fence. Bev, is the fence made of iron? Yes? So, iron DOES have some affect.”

It was a restless night under siege. At least they found comfort in the cabinets full of whiskey bottles. Lydia couldn’t sleep and began to pace. She lurched at a familiar voice outside. “Mom? Mom, come quick. Help me.” “JOHN! Get up! It’s Nina!” Every light in the house was on. John was already making Molotov bombs from the whiskey bottles. “It’s got to be those damn rabbits. They have her holed up somewhere in their warren.”

Strangest thing as they all charged forth: the rabbits were actually acting normal as Nina’s voice echoed over the hills, “Mom, Come quick. It’s getting harder.” They followed the road south abeam the hills from where Nina’s voice echoed. John oh so wanted to go straight to her voice. Alastair cautioned, “Too many holes if you remember. Wait till we find which hill she is on then we can charge up it.” Karen and the colonel brought up the rear as she helped the hobbled veteran. Him with his trusty rifle, she with her own cloth-fused bottle and a steak knife. They could hear Nina talking to someone, “No, I don’t want to go back.” The sound more distant till it suddenly stopped.

And that’s when the animals began acting strange again. They were now at the base of the Dunmore Keep hill as John called out, “Keep calling sweetheart. We’re coming!” Lydia tripped coming face-to-face with rabbits, “Keep going John. Save her!” Alastair helped her up then took off in pursuit. Karen tried to help the colonel climb, but when he fell, he drug her down with him. They were well behind the others. She stuck with the veteran, “I won’t leave you sir.”

No storm, yet lights flashed from the hilltop. Nina no longer calling out. The animals attacking. They climbed in hopes this MUST be the place. From the backside, the fort was a series of concentric circular walls rising to the top plateau. John attacked the steep front hillslope with all his strength and fortitude before he finally stood atop the hill and looked across the fort’s plateau. John looked toward the well at the center of the plateau. He learned over the edge and called down into the watery abyss, “Nina? Are you in there?”

And that’s when John heard scrapping sounds coming from his left… where a large ram snorted and pawed the earth. Its eyes matted. Tam charged. John readied to dodge like a matador at the last second. But that’s when Alastair stepped upon the plateau and aimed his shotgun, “BLAM!” Pellets hit the beast giving it a new target. As Alastair cracked open the gun to reload, John charged to knock him out of the way of the charging beast. The ram flew past and turned to charge again with its head down to ram them. The detective panic fired and missed. John tried to protect him by grabbing the ram’s horn in a strength contest. A 500-pound ram versus a 193-pound man. I don’t think so. At least John dodged out of the way of the goring horns.

Lydia crested the hill just as Alastair took another shot. Point-blank into its face but Alastair took a horn into his chest. All the while Lydia focused on the well where water percolated over its edge. Confusion, distraction, she raised her fire-poker and charged at the beast attacking her husband. What was John thinking?! He tried to push the ram over the edge of the plateau. [fumble] The ram twisted its upper torso in protest and managed to fall into the well, but its horn hooked John’s pantleg and took him with it. Alastair looked over the edge of the well and found John holding onto an inner ledge maybe 6 feet down. Lydia offered her poker as extra length for John to grab ahold as they pulled him up.

Karen and the colonel FINALLY arrived atop the plateau just in time to see the trio of John/Lydia/Alastair slump beside the well. A vision short lived as a geyser erupted from the well! Riding the crest of the geyser was… “Nina!” But they also saw her covered in a black tar substance. Tam the ram also mixed in with the geyser. Tentacles sprouted from the black blob that enveloped Nina and the ram! [SANITY check: Alastair went indefinitely insane with anger wanting to kill the beast now.]

Everything became slow motion: John was up on his feet reaching for Nina to pull her free. Fearing Nina could be hit, the colonel dove at Alastair to wrestle for the shotgun. Lydia jabbed at the black tar creature with her poker, while Karen held her Molotov high ready to light and throw at the most opportune time. Everywhere Lydia hit with the poker, the tar turned solid. John was on an adrenaline rush as he fought the larger creature, “Let go my daughter!” He’d actually pulled her free of most of the blob… only black tentacles held her feet. “Alastair, help me!” John knew not the struggle behind him where the crippled colonel was besting the older detective.

With Nina almost free, Karen broke her Molotov against the back of the beast. Fire momentarily flared… hope she’d wounded the thing. Until 2 tentacles reached out thru the fire trying to grab her.  “EEK!” John was eye-to-eye with his daughter as he pulled with all his strength. She responded, “Thank you dad…but…but…” The black blob sprang multiple tentacles along with multiple eyes randomly across its mass. And mouths! With sharp teeth! [SANITY check] With one “give it all you got” tug, Nina popped free. John handed her off to Lydia as he grabbed her poker, “I’ll distract it. Get her to safety.”

Seeing Nina free, the colonel gave up grappling the detective and reached for Alastair’s shotgun dropped in the fight. John slung the poker into one of the open mouths of the beast. He could hear crackling as if ice solidifying. Karen stabbed with her knife at a tentacle reaching for her. Nina screamed as Lydia carried her away. Was it fear? Was she still being hurt by the thing? Lydia just wanted to get her back to the cottage. She descended the slope leaving the men and reporter to battle the beast. Too many tentacles for John to dodge as he began to bleed. Alastair, still raging, grabbed the Webley pistol on the colonel’s hip and rapid-fired. The colonel emptied both shotgun barrels before black tentacles sliced the veteran open. Hits all around but little damage (they could tell) to the beast. But enough for Karen to realize the situation hopeless, especially seeing the colonel die: she bolted after Lydia.

Lydia lost her footing as she descended and fell against rock and pebbles. She instinctively shielded Nina from injury. Nina spoke with concern, no longer the tortured voice, “It’s going to get really bad up there.” But it was just as bad on the slope as rabbits attacked and spurred the mother into retreat. Her only thoughts: get back to the cottage… damn the flat tires… I will drive on them flat to get back to London.

John realized the hopelessness of the battle and tried to escape. But his luck gave out as 2 more tentacles (or the same 2) lashed out at him, almost cleaving him in half. John bled out. Alastair all alone, emptied the remaining shells into the beast. With little effect.

Other than the mouths opening in unison, “Just join me. Come, embrace me.” Alastair resolute to the voices in his head as he reloaded the pistol, “Fuck you!” But his resolve waned as he continued firing. He attacked not by tentacles, but a single voice, “Just give in. Join us. It will be wonderful.” By now Alastair came out of his rage. He saw the black beast tower over him. Hopeless. Helpless. Alone. “Will it hurt? Will they live? Will Nina and her mother be OK? Alright, I surrender.”

EPILOGUE

Alastair felt a warmth rush over him as black tar leeched into his body thru every orifice. He felt… connected. And alive. He could see thru the eyes of all the creatures within the area. From the rabbits watching the car pull away from the cottage on flat tires. He was satisfied. And walked off the hill back to the cottage where he waited for a train ride back to London and Scotland Yard.

He avoided the public, knowing Karen was still about. The rabbits told him so. They watched her get into Hamish’s car for a ride back to Perth where she struggled to write her report.

The Perthshire Advertiser, 3^rd page, included a one column report of Nina found and with her mother back in London. "Nina's father and the local war veteran colonel gave up their lives to rescue the girl from the Dunmore Keep well." It was signed by the Advertizer’s editor. He rewrote Karen’s draft. Removed her referenced confirmation of Scottish lore of the legend of the black beast of 1652 come true. Karen was henceforth relegated to writing the social page.

GM REVEAL

‘The Lurker’ came to be as a shoggoth seed planted in the well by an Old-One eons ago. As animals came to drink from the well, the shoggoth gave up parts of itself (the black tar) to take control of them. Like a brood community. But it needed a willing host to be able to walk about on its own.

The shoggoth reached a point where it wanted more than just being trapped in the well. Thus, why it lured Nina (thru the rabbits) toward the well. The tracks were the shoggoth. It took on aspects of the animals around it and tried to mimic them, hence the appearance as a dog and the strange footprints. Tam was broken free from the pen by the shoggoth for added protection. The pesky humans just wouldn't give up searching for Nina, they had to be killed.

But Nina resisted his calling. Strong she was. Alastair not so strong.