Serena Blackwood, freshly handed the case file and FIR, glanced at the television in the corner of the briefing room. News reporters were still relentlessly criticizing the FBI for its perceived inaction, their voices brimming with indignation. Without wasting another moment, Serena gathered her team of three seasoned agents and set off for Marina Bay.
As soon as their black SUV rolled to a stop near the entrance, every media camera in sight pivoted towards them. The car door opened, and Serena stepped out, immediately absorbing the chaotic scene before her. The once-vibrant bay area was now a grim tableau of devastation—debris littered the ground, bodies were being carefully covered, blood stained the pavement, and the air was thick with the cries of the injured and mourning. Paramedics were still tirelessly working to save those they could.
Serena strode purposefully toward the site where the tragedy had unfolded, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. A half-torn banner flapped weakly in the wind, now smeared with blood a haunting reminder of the festive event that had turned into a nightmare.
The media, like vultures circling a carcass, quickly surrounded her, bombarding her with questions. "What caused this? How is the FBI planning to investigate?"
Serena, undeterred by their aggressive questioning, shot back with a hint of sarcasm, "You all got here before us, and you're asking me the questions? Let us do our job first, and then maybe you'll get your answers." Her words, though sharp, carried an underlying message: let the professionals handle it.
She made her way to the makeshift paramedic clinic and sought out the head doctor, Peter. As she approached, she could see the exhaustion and disbelief etched on his face. "Dr. Peter," she began, "What do you think caused this?"
Peter shook his head, still grappling with the reality of the situation. "I can hardly believe it myself," he said, his voice heavy with a mix of disbelief and resignation. He pulled out a series of photos taken earlier and zoomed in on one, revealing distinct bite marks. Adjusting his glasses, he spoke with gravity, "The cause of this... is piranhas. These bite marks they're unmistakable. I've also reviewed footage from earlier today." He showed her the videos grainy but clear enough to reveal the ferocious piranhas attacking with terrifying speed and aggression.
Serena's expression hardened as she watched the footage. "How do we get rid of them? How do we stop this?"
Peter sighed, his knowledge falling short of a concrete solution. "I wish I had a clear answer for you. But I know someone who might." He handed her a business card. "Call this man. His expertise is in studying and researching piranhas. If anyone can help, it's him."
Serena took the card, her fingers brushing against the raised lettering. Wasting no time, she dialed the number. The phone rang twice before a calm, composed voice answered on the other end. "Yes, this is Henry Carter speaking."
Serena steadied herself, knowing that this conversation could be crucial. "Mr. Carter, this is Special Agent Serena Blackwood with the FBI. We need your expertise. We've had a mass casualty incident at Marina Bay, and it appears to be caused by piranhas. Dr. Peter referred me to you, and I need to know how to stop this before it gets any worse."
YOU ARE READING
The Dread Piranha
General Fictionthis story is about how a mutated piranha is brought into existance, the chaos it caused, and how the police officers tackled the situation once they dove in
