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[Argembarger]

I'm shocked we don't have one of these active right now.

Continue the story. EASY.

Rules:
1. There are none.
2. Rule 1 is a lie; try not to write more than a paragraph or so.
3. No derailing, and try not to write total non-sequitors. I'd prefer that every entry be at least superficially related to the entries that have already gone before.
4. The story ends when it is dramatically appropriate to end.
5. Otherwise, there are no rules. Be as silly or as serious as you want, and anything can happen.


On a cold, foggy night in a cabin in the backwoods of New England, a man was preparing a supper of raccoon stew. This man had lived out here as long as he can remember, and knows these woods as intimately as a lover knows his or her mate. He's been hearing strange noises out there for the past couple of weeks, but only during nights of heavy fog, like tonight. He goes to stir his stew, looking forward to eating the hell out of it, when out of the corner of his eye, he notices through the window...

[KaguroDraven]

A large hulking figure that disappears as fast as it appeared. The man shakes his head, telling himself it was a figment of his imagination, or he had a bit too much to drink. He hears a strange howl from near by, and calms himself by saying it's just a pack of wolves, who can't get in. He hears a scratching sound at the door, before hearing the door smash in. He turns around to see...

[Strife26]

Shaggy, unkempt brown fur. A heavy-set body. And the gleam of an axe-head.

[Retro]

The woodsman was careful not to panic. In his years out here he had dealt with all sorts of things, and this was no time to suddenly lose his head. Both figuratively and literally. The shotgun was only a few feet away, leaning against the fireplace.

One hand reached down under the table and patted the head of his large deerhound, Zeke. "Wake up, fella. We got a vis'ter."

[Armok]

The monstrous rodent-thing in the doorway suddenly leapt forward at hearing him speak, screeching, as if that ability enraged it.

[Phantom]

The man dodged the rodent, while the he grabbed his shotgun. Zeke barked and eyed the creature heavily, and the man aimed his shotgun at it. As he realized it had no shells inside, he hurriedly loads it, while the creature got up. When he finally finishes loading it, the creature leaps at him, and a large boom is heard...

[Weirdsound]

"I'm telling you Pete, it can't be possible. We know how fast and how far the Xenorodents can travel. There shouldn't be sightings in New England until October."

Dr. Peter Johnson leaned back on his chair. "There is no other explanation William. They found a charred corpse in an old cabin. Some old man shot one in the Hydrogen Sack. Killed himself, his dog, and of course the dammed beast. Your flying into Logan Airport in Boston tomorrow to try and figure out if there is a nest in the region. The agency has no office in the area, so you'll be working with those clueless FBI whelps at their feild office. Try not to blow their minds.

Agent Bill Lopez shook his head. "Its winter, and they actually get snow there. I hate the cold."

"Then pack some long undies, because your flight leaves from LAX at 1:00 AM." 

[Phantom]

Bill Lopez arrived at the area's field office, sighting two prominent FBI Agents and 2 other unidentified individuals. He enters.
"Gentlemen."
One of the FBI Agents, a small stocky asian man, puts down the folder he was carrying. He holds his hand out to Mr. Lopez.
"Greetings, Mr. Lopez. My name is Ben Tran, and my partner here is named Barnaby."
Mr. Lopez shakes his hand, and asks about the two other men in the room.

[Argembarger]

"These are our escorts," Tran replies, "Military personnel. Sworn to secrecy. I don't really understand the fuss, myself. None of the recent events warrant such measures."

One of the two men steps forward. Bill could see the butt of his rifle peeking over the man's shoulder. "Mr. Tran, I assure you, you will require our services many times before these affairs are concluded."

"Poppycock," Barnaby suddenly quips, "All of this talk about... giant rats, bioterrorism, bah! Just a bunch of silly, scared county cops that have had one too many drinks. I'll be glad when this is over; I've been looking forward to retirement for a long time... mumblegrumble..."

Bill shakes away a twinge of foreboding. "Well, gentlemen, would you mind taking me to the scene of the crime?"

[Phantom]

"Yes, Mr. Lopez, we'll head there right now. If by chance, any of you see any GRU Agents, alert them, they've been having a problem with these xenorodents for quite a while and this event piqued their interest."
All the men in the room enter Bill's car, and Ben drives them to the area. The cabin is quite burned, and none would suspect anyone lived in it recently.
"Well, Mr. Lopez, this is your forte, why don't you inspect the area or something? Me and Barnaby will go check the old mans corpse and what ever is left of the creature."