Night of the Ripper
Bill dropped into the sewer with a splash, spraying water against the dingy walls. Aldo scurried down the ladder afterwards, pulling the gatorhole cover back in place before joining his friend in the muck. The two stood still, tense as boxers and listening fixedly. They cringed at the sound of the hungry mob stampeding over their heads, the shouts and footfalls accompanied by the clinking of cutlery. After what seemed like enough time for every alligator in Swampwood to stomp over the street, the din finally faded. Eventually, the two were left listening to the sound of dripping condensation.
Aldo let out a heavy sigh. He turned to his friend and fixed him with an exasperated expression, which the duck met with a chagrined smile.
"Bill, I'm starting to think you like coming to Swampwood to run for your life" Aldo remarked.
"Hey, I didn't plan for this" Bill said half-heartedly. "Besides, it wasn't my fault. This was unconstitutional of them, you know."
"How did you think they were gonna react when they found out they'd elected a duck for mayor?" Aldo replied. "Ugh. Now they're gonna have a revote. Just when I thought election season was finally over…"
Bill hung his head in concession. Aldo was right, of course. It had been a foolish plan.
"I'm sorry…" he muttered. "I should've thought more of what this would mean for you. And thanks for saving me again."
Unable to stay mad at his pal, Aldo shook his head and put a hand on Bill's back. As Bill looked up, the smile was already returning to the gator's mug.
"Don't worry about it. Voting for a friend was fun, for a change… But we should get back to Ducktown. I don't think it's safe to go up just yet, so whaddaya say to a stroll through the sewers?"
"It's not how I planned to celebrate my victory, but sure" Bill replied, feeling chipper again. "Wait 'til the others hear about this. How many other ducks can say they were elected to office by gators?"
"None who live to talk about it" Aldo said with a chuckle. "C'mon."
The sewers were smelly but surprisingly navigable. They seemed to have the same layout as the streets overhead, and Aldo was able to steer them from the town square down A L'Orange Avenue and onto Foie Gras Street. Though the going was slow, Bill and Aldo were surprised by how bearable the trip was in good company. Before long, they were chatting with typical ease, as though nothing out of the ordinary had led them to this predicament.
However, neither knew yet just what kind of a predicament they were in.
Aldo was laughing at a joke Bill was trying to finish when an unexpected sound rent the easy mood and shocked them both into silence. It was the sound of something hard and sharp scraping across stone, and it caused both friends to freeze. They stared ahead, in the direction from where the sound had come - from around the corner that would have brought them to the final stretch of sewer.
"…That was probably nothing" Bill asserted, after several long moments of silence.
"Heh heh… Y-Yeah" Aldo agreed weakly. "These old sewers, am I right?"
The two started forward again. They had gone less than five steps before the noise recurred – long, drawn-out, and undeniably intentional. Bill felt Aldo cower at his side. Putting a shivering wing on the gator's leg, he leaned forward and called into the dimness.
"Hello?... Is anybody there?... M-My friend and I were just passing through, but we can go another way if this is private property…!"
His voice echoed into silence. Nobody replied. For what seemed like the longest time, duck and gator remained rooted, too wary to move.
"Bill…" Aldo finally whispered. "Let's go back. I don't-"
Aldo's words were lost in his throat as the passage before them lit up. The light cast an enormous silhouette on the wall, displaying a duck's form with large, jagged fangs protruding from its open bill. As surprise knotted Bill and Aldo's airways, a fearsome roar blasted through the sewer, its bloodthirsty tremor going through their bodies like electricity: "QUAAACK!"
Aldo screamed. He took off running, with Bill scurrying in his wake. They were going back the way they came, but Aldo was too terrified to navigate. He ran with the sole intent of putting distance between himself and the silhouette, and didn't stop until he had turned three corners and left Bill out of breath. The duck came to a panting stop beside his friend, who was shaking like a tall tree in the wind. Aldo couldn't have looked more terrified if he had been headed for the electric chair.
"It's him! It's him!" he whimpered, holding his hands over his jaws in terror.
"Aldo-" Bill began, but was interrupted by his terrified comrade.
"Him! It's…Quack the Ripper!"
Still trying to catch his breath, Bill placed his wings on Aldo's torso. He remembered the time when Waddle dressed up as the urban legend to scare the residents of Swampwood. He had never taken the tale behind the prank seriously, even though it petrified Aldo. Whatever had happened that night, it was more important now to remain calm than to speculate on spook stories.
"Aldo! Listen to me" he demanded. "I don't know what that was, but I don't think it's what you think. Quack the Ripper is just a story!"
"You weren't there that night! You don't know!" Aldo moaned, glancing anxiously around. "If me and the guys hadn't run, we'd've been pated! Now he's come back for me!"
Exasperated and agitated, Bill knew there was no chance of calming Aldo while they were underground. He forced one of the gator's hands into his wing and began to lead him.
"C'mon. We're getting out of here" he said forcefully. "There's bound to be a gatorhole around here somewhere. We'll risk the street, and then we'll go to my place. This'll all look better in the morning, when- Ah, here we go!"
They had turned a corner, and halfway down the passage, a ladder led up to a covered opening. Bill tugged Aldo's hand and led him forward – perhaps a little faster than he would have were he not scared, too. Though it was easy to put on a brave face when Aldo was frightened, he admitted to himself that he was spooked, too. He wasn't keen on finding out who or what had caused the silhouette, and was certain that he'd be able to assess the situation more logically from the comfort of his couch with a big mug of hot chocolate between his wings.
However, they didn't make it to within ten feet of the ladder. At the opposite end of the passage, there was another burst of light – as though a flare had been lit – and the same horrifying silhouette appeared on the wall. The shadow of its long wing reached down the passage, right at them.
"QUAAACK!"
Aldo lost it. With a shriek, he took off in the opposite direction, too afraid to risk going up the ladder if it meant moving closer to the shadow. Bill was yanked off his feet and pulled through the air as Aldo tore through the sewers, kicking up water and letting his screams echo through the maze. He had lost all sense of direction, and so had Bill. The duck realized that they were indeed being stalked, by something with teeth as sharp as Aldo's that scared Bill more than the mob of alligators.
Aldo finally came to a stumbling stop in front of a gated runoff pipe, too out of breath to run any further. Bill fell facedown in the water, and as he picked himself up, he saw the unfamiliar expression of despair crossing Aldo's face. The gator had clearly been thrust into a waking nightmare. Struggling to his feet, Bill tried to put his wings on Aldo, but the gator jumped and cowered at his touch. He hunkered down in the water and put his hands over his eyes.
"It's not happening, it's not happening, it's not happening, it's not happening…" he chanted in a whimpering mantra.
"Aldo!" Bill cried to his friend's aural disc, loud enough to get his attention. "Come on! You need to keep it together! Look at me!"
Aldo's eyes met Bill's, and Bill saw that they had become a vortex of misery.
"Oh, Bill" the gator whimpered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"
His friend opened his beak to reply, but before he could speak, an unfamiliar voice penetrated their midst. A deep, cold chuckle wafted through the sewer passage, making Bill's feathers stand on end. He looked around hurriedly, but saw no one there. It was impossible to determine how far away the voice was or even where it was coming from. Aldo clapped his hands over his eyes again and curled his tail around his knees.
"Sorry doesn't begin to describe it" the voice said, in a horrible crooning tone. "Gluttonous… Inexorable… Greedy… Piggish… Disgusting… Foul… Worthless… I could go on."
Bill kept a wing on Aldo's shoulder as he looked around. He was certain that the voice belonged to whoever had cast the silhouette, and he hoped that because they could speak, they could be reasoned with.
"H- …Hello? Wh-Who are you?... A-And what do you want?" he called, each fading echo sounding more frightened than the one before.
"The tail-dragger knows who I am" replied the voice. "His scaly ilk knows me as…Quack the Ripper. I've got no business with you, duck. Leave me alone…with my prey."
Aldo sobbed with fear while Bill felt his former certainty slipping away. Before now, if he had heard someone declare themselves to be Quack the Ripper, he would have believed that Waddle and his brothers were playing another prank. This, however, could not feel less like a prank.
"Listen! We don't want any trouble!" he called. "My friend and I just want to go home!"
"You can go. The gator stays" demanded the voice. "He needs to be punished."
Bill felt his stomach turn to ice. He didn't consider leaving Aldo behind, and as a result seemed to share in his fear. In an effort to remain active, he began trying to force Aldo back to his feet so they could start fleeing again.
"What do you want to punish him for? He hasn't done anything!"
The burst of derisive laughter was enough to momentarily petrify Bill. He recovered, but had a harder time getting Aldo to unfreeze.
"That's priceless. He's as guilty as the rest of them. The kidnappers. The murderers. The duck-eaters."
They were dealing a vigilante, thought Bill. That was easier to digest than the thought of a supernatural monster that ate gators. Not by much, though.
"No! You don't understand!" he cried, trying to force Aldo to his feet by pushing him up under the elbows. "Aldo's my friend! He's got tons of friends in Ducktown! He hasn't eaten ducks for as long as I've known him!"
"And what about before you knew him?"
Bill faltered in responding, and it was enough for the voice to go on. Bill would have sworn on his life that Aldo had never so much as salivated over a duck, but he realized within the next few moments that such a lie wouldn't have made a difference.
"Don't let a gator fool you. They're all the same. They respect their appetites more than our lives. They exist only to feed, and they don't care if it's your mother, your brother, your duckling, or you. The history between ducks and alligators is written in blood and baking grease, and your experience doesn't wash it away. If he hasn't eaten you yet, then your days are still numbered. I'm here to make sure he never again has the opportunity."
Bill was too busy trying to get Aldo to stand up to listen intently, but as he glanced into the gator's face, he realized that Aldo had definitely been listening. Terror compounded with guilt in the big guy's features. There was shame in his eyes as he saw Bill looking at him, and he glanced away even as the duck managed to get him to his feet. Quack had gotten into his head.
"Don't listen to him" Bill demanded, trying to shake the gator. "He doesn't know you. He doesn't know what he's talking about."
"He does" Aldo insisted miserably. "Everyone knows. It's the reason we're down here in the first place. Because gators and ducks have always been…"
Tears came to Aldo's eyes so suddenly that it scared Bill. If Aldo went to pieces now, it gave Quack more opportunity to catch them. If he were taller, Bill would have slapped his friend to return him to his senses. In lieu of being able to even reach his collar, he shook Aldo more vigorously by the hips.
"Hey! He doesn't know us! I don't care if every other gator is like he says, so long as you're the way you are!"
Aldo sniffed pathetically, looking wretchedly down at his best friend.
"I still fight it, Bill" he murmured. "Every now and then, when I'm not expecting it. I think about…eating. We've been friends for years, and I'm still like that! I haven't been able to change… Oh Bill, if you knew what a carnivore I used to be…!"
The gator put his hands over his eyes and wept, compounding Bill's alarm with sympathy for his traumatized pal. He knew that Aldo struggled with his instincts, and the thought troubled him at times, but he also trusted Aldo more than anyone else. He tried think of a way to convey his faith in his friend, but in the midst of his anxiety, the words didn't come to him fast enough. Quack spoke again before Bill could.
"You're right to cry, gator" he said, his voice wafting about like a poison. "But you owe us more than tears. You…owe…us…DINNER."
A pair of wings shot out from the pipe behind Aldo, reaching through the gaps in the gate. They wrapped around the gator's neck, and Aldo screamed as the sharp claws protruding from the feathers scraped across his throat.
"Biiiiill!"
Bill sprang into action. He jumped onto Aldo's front, clinging to his body with his knees, and tried to wrench the wings off the gator's neck. Their grip was like steel cord, and in his desperation, Bill bit them as fiercely as a duck could. To his great relief, they loosened and Aldo stumbled free. Still holding onto him, Bill looked over the gator's shoulder and saw a pair of glowing red eyes glaring at him from the pipe.
"Run! Run!" he cried, dropping back down and clasping the reptile's hand. When Aldo was slow to follow, he yanked as hard as he could and momentarily unbalanced the cowed predator. This was enough to get him to start moving, and Bill led him around the nearest turn at top speed.
They had barely cleared the corner when they heard the gate being ripped off its hinges.
Bill ran as fast as he could, trying to find a way out. Panic poked at his mind, but he tried to outrun this too and regain his orientation. He knew that if he didn't keep a cool head, his friend would be a goner. Bill was ready to fight for Aldo, but he already knew that a confrontation with Quack the Ripper would be a losing effort. He could be plucky, but he couldn't rip metal or subdue a gator with his wings. He had to get them out of there, even if it meant running for the rest of the night. He swore that he would never make Aldo save him again if only he could save Aldo tonight. The thought of losing his soulmate in these sewers was inconceivable; he didn't know what he would do if he couldn't protect the gator.
Again and again they turned corners. Bill tried to will himself to know where they were. Surely they were right by the bowling alley now, weren't they? He thought that if only he could find a ladder, Aldo would have a safe haven to hide in – even if it meant Bill had to subject himself to more hungry gators. It would be worth it. Clenching his beak, the duck put on an extra burst of speed as they rounded another corner. He was certain this would bring them beneath the alleyway that ran alongside the building, where there definitely was a gatorhole.
But instead, Aldo and he ran into a dead end. They faced a terrifyingly short passage with a tiny grate in the wall – just large enough for Bill to fit through, but definitely not a full-grown gator. No doors, no ladders – just a flat, stone wall and the realization that they didn't have enough time to turn around and head down another way. They were trapped.
"Oh, Bill" whimpered Aldo. "Bill… Bill…"
The alligator's words were interrupted by the sound of footsteps trudging through the water in their direction. Bill pushed Aldo against the wall and positioned himself in front of him. He didn't know the first thing about fighting, but was ready to give it all he had. Perhaps Aldo would think to flee if Bill was able to efficiently occupy the monster. Bill certainly wouldn't hold it against him. The beast might not be interested in another duck, but Bill was willing to tempt him if it meant that his friend could get away.
Splash, splash, splash came the sound of Quack moving through the water. However, just when Bill was certain the creature was about to round the corner and enter his sight, the sound abruptly ceased. Once again, the duo was plunged into terrifying silence. Bill held his wings out to shield Aldo, who cowered against the wall. There was nothing to do now but wait for their pursuer to make his move.
The move began with the glowing red eyes opening up in the shadows at the head of the passage. The Ripper was standing barely ten feet away from Bill and his charge.
"Move" Quack demanded.
Bill gulped. It was like trying to swallow a tennis ball.
"…No" he whispered.
"Move" Quack said again.
Bill tried to repeat his answer, but he couldn't speak. Instead, he shook his head.
"Gators don't change their scales, brother" Quack growled. "Once a duck-eater, always a duck-eater."
Something about the presumptuousness with which Quack addressed him fanned the remaining sparks of bravery in Bill. Steadying his expression, he clenched his wing tips into fists and glared indignantly at the glowing eyes.
"You're not my brother" he said firmly. "Aldo's more my family than you'll ever be, for more reasons than you'll ever know."
The eyes angled sideways, as though their owner had cocked his head.
"Sometimes I get mad, too. When I think about it, I have plenty of reason to not be with him" Bill went on, the words pouring from him in desperation. "I know why you're angry, but he still doesn't deserve what you want to do to him. Aldo did change, even though it was the hardest thing for him to do! He gave up his job! And his club! His friends! …Because I was more important to him. Whatever you think he's done, he's made up for it so many times. He makes up for it every day, by being the best friend anyone could ever have. If I were in the sewer with…with Jack the Gator instead of Quack the Ripper, he'd be the one protecting me right now. I know he would…!"
Quack said nothing. He blinked, and tilted his head to the other side, as though studying the scene before him. Bill didn't know what to think of this, but he had almost run out of things to say. There was only so much he could do before needing to protect Aldo through force.
"I'm not moving. You'll have to go through me before you make me move. I'm not letting you at my Aldo. If you think otherwise, you're dead wrong."
Quack's gaze righted itself, and Bill felt himself being fixed with a particularly fierce stare. Nevertheless, he stood firm. When he swallowed again, it was easier than before.
"You seem…very sure of yourself" Quack growled.
Before Bill could answer, the eyes darted forward. Just as the figure was about move out of the darkness, Bill squeezed his eyes shut in reflex and thrust his wings forward, prepared to hold off the attacker with all his might.
…But nothing happened. Bill opened his eyes moments later, peering out to find the sewer passage empty. He couldn't even sense Quack's presence even more; it was as though he had disappeared into thin air.
Bill spun around and found Aldo slowly lowering his hands from his eyes. Though still quite frightened, the alligator was okay.
A trickle of intrinsic relief slowly spread through Bill's body. He didn't let down his guard completely, but he did take both of Aldo's hands into his wings. He knew that he must have succeeded, because his prize was standing in front of him.
"C'mon, Aldo" he said quietly. "Let's get out of here."
The gator didn't stop holding his breath until they finally breached the street top. Confit Avenue had never seemed more appealing to Bill than when he saw his best friend finally relax and utter a long sigh of relief.
"You feeling okay, now?" he asked, patting Aldo on the elbow.
The gator looked around cautiously before directing a nod at his friend. The vestiges of a smile moved across his face.
"Yeah. Probably gonna need twelve showers, but I'm entirely uneaten. That counts for something."
"Nobody eats my pal when I'm around" Bill declared smoothly. "C'mon. Let's go to my place."
He tried to lead on, but the gator didn't move. Bill looked up in surprise, and found a curious expression on the reptile's face.
"…Are you sure you're okay?" the duck asked.
"Yeah, I am" Aldo replied. "But…what he said down there… It kinda got me thinking."
"You're not taking what he said seriously, are you?" Bill asked earnestly. "Aldo, I already told him-"
"And I've been thinking about what you said, too" Aldo interrupted. "That was really something, Bill. You reminded me how much you appreciate me. You actually made me feel proud, in the middle of everything… But what he said reminded me of what most gators are like. Really put it into perspective. Maybe there are a few others like me, but Quack the Ripper has plenty of reason to be angry. So… I think I'm gonna start trying to change that. If there were more gators that had ducks as friends instead of dinner, there'd be no reason for Quack to exist. I'm going to start trying to change their minds."
Surprised and impressed that Aldo had rebounded from his terror with something so inspiring, Bill smiled at Aldo. Once again, he thought, the gator was proving his antagonist wrong.
"That's absolutely wonderful, Aldo… But how do you think you're going to do it?"
The gator shrugged. "Well, you already gave me the idea. Not sure I could get my name on the ballot now, but there'll be a new election soon. I think it's time for a new platform."
Bill beamed. "I'm really, really proud of you."
Aldo grinned. "Hey, when my best friend's so brave and heroic, I have a lot to live up to."
Under the moonlight, they held hands in silent celebration. They'd survived their ordeal and come out of it better than they were before. With luck, this would be the night that relations between their species began improving, overall.
"It feels like there should be a hug, here" Bill murmured after a while. "…But let's wait 'til we've had a chance to wash."
"You got it" agreed Aldo. "The way I look now, I'm surprised Quack could even think of eating me. Gotta feel a little sorry for the guy, if he thinks I look tasty…"
In the sewers, Quack the Ripper's silhouette moved through the passages towards an old service room. The little chamber was furnished with a bed, a table, and a little cabinet standing in the corner. A candle cast the inhabitant's shadow across the walls.
Standing still in the middle of the room, the figure reached into its beak and pulled out a pair of fanged dentures. It set the sharp jaws down on the cabinet, where they joined a dusty tambourine and a torn photograph. The fading countenance of an alligator grinned up at its visitor.
"Well, Armand…" muttered the figure. "They're actually going to try. Reminds you of two guys we knew, huh? Well, here's to hoping. Who knows? Maybe they'll actually make it…"
Quack the Ripper picked up a second tambourine, identical to the one lying by the photo, and began to play a tune meant for a duet.
The End