Disclaimer: I do not own Aquaman.
So, this is an idea I had a few months ago. The basic premise is that Aquaman is a detective investigating odd occurences in the seaside town of Portsmouth. Of course the story takes elements from H.P. Lovecraft, specifically Dagon and The Shadow Over Innsmouth. But I haven't fully read the stories and I don't want to continue until you do. That and based on popularity.
Consider this an Elseworlds, an alternate Earth, whatever. I do know their was a Batman Elseworlds Mike Mignola wrote that involved Lovecraft.
Aquaman: Dagon 0 - That's When She Walked In
The sky was blue and violet, slowy becoming black and scarlet as lightning cracked the sun and the clouds cried blood red tears.
ARTHUR CURRY DETECTIVE AGENCY
that was what the sign on the front window of the building read. He was on the second floor, reading the Daily Star, when she walked in. That's how these stories go, don't they? He looked up from the paper.
"Closed."
She didn't respond to that. She just walked right in and took a seat in the chair in front of the desk.
"I said-"
"10,000."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Upfront," she said as she placed a black leather case in front of him. The latch clicked open. He analyzed the presidents looking up at him with their green eyes. He laid back on the chair.
"Name?" He asked.
"Mira."
"That all?"
"All you need to know at the moment. There's another twenty thousand in it. If you're to take the job."
She took off her black hat, revealing an ocean of red hair. The hat no longer obscured two green eyes, alive and bright like the jungle tropic. Arthur's heart skipped a beat when he gazed at her Venusian features. His blood rushed. A small bump under the table was heard. She didn't notice, or didn't care. She wasn't picking up anything from him, actually. He was good at hiding his emotions. That's one of the rules in this job. Never get attached to the client.
"Lemme guess. You want me to find your, what, father, husband, son...?" He listed.
"You were right the first time. Yes, my father. But I know where he is."
"Ah, you want me to drag him back home." He mused.
"I didn't know you specialized in graverobbing."
So, a simple murder investigation.
"Before you say anything, I know how he died. Morphine overdose." She told him.
"So, you want what exactly? To find out why?"
"I'll make it easy for you, Mr. Curry. This was one of the reasons."
She reached into her coat and pulled out something long and small, wrapped in handkerchief. Too small to be a gun, too big to be a knife. She placed it next to the briefcase, and unwrapped it. Arthur didn't know what he was looking at. It was a statuette, or some sort of idol. He picked it up, and loathed every second he held it in his hands. The feeling he registered from that small stone piece was one he never wanted to feel again, a cold, clammy feeling like handling a bloated, waterdredged body, at the bottom of the sea for months.
It was dark green and heavily worn down, possibly by sea water. It was made out of a substance he didn't recognize, and covered in markings that looked like the designs of a schizophrenic artist. It vaguely resembled a man, but no man he had ever seen, and no man he would ever want to meet. Scaly arms reaching outwards, fangs, and what looked like slime carved into it. The stone eyes burned with malevolence, but carried an air of a religious icon. It was repulsive in every sense of the word, and he wondered why anyone would carry this loathsome thing with them.
"And this..." Mira said as she pulled the briefcase back to her, and pulled something out from underneath the money.
"Is another."
A leatherbound journal. He creaked open the cover, and began to read the sad, strange story of Mira's father.
To be continued...?