DISCLAIMER: I do not own any affiliation with the "Cloverfield" franchise and/or consisting of its entertainment branches. They are rightfully owned by Paramount Pictures and Bad Robot Productions. However this is fan fiction and I do not want my work to be published for profit. I understand that the "Cloverfield" franchise will continue to thrill the next generation of monster lovers and that this piece is simply for pleasure in which I present my take on what might be story behind the film.
Please note: this story is inspired by true event, believe it or not. Google "The Bloop" to find out more about it's interesting properties . It is both fascinating and terrifying to wonder not if there is a creature similar to "Clover" in the depths of the oceans, but when will we see it? I have taken facts and the mythologies of the film and more to construct the back story of "Cloverfield". In fact, I encourage you to research this phenomenon for yourself. Everything I include in this story is "research authentic" through viral marketing and real programs and organizations. I also encourage you to review my work with any comments regarding the story itself or its legitimacy. Enjoy!
"Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?"
-Friedrich Nietzsche, German Philosopher
"It's alive. It's eating people."
-Marlena Diamond, "Cloverfield" 2008
February 25th, 1995
A pair of large black scissors bit the velvet red ribbon swinging inches in front of it and its two halves fluttered away from each other as a thunderous roar of excitement and applause broke way. Dozens of people wearing black and olive business attire clapped and cheered, but the two halves of the ribbon fluttered off into the misty, sea air never to be one again.
"Mr. Yoshida, I believe you will have no problem with your legacy now." An older looking man with a thick German accent shook hands with a younger Asian man who was shaking hands and talking with people left and right. "I believe this station will hold many wonders in the near future."
Yoshida smiled and bowed. "It is you I must thank, Mr. Möltken. Your company's partnership with Tagruato has many benefits and can only grow stronger as the years descend upon us. Just look at this station we've built together." He raised his hand towards the towering machines above the crowd. Crates, arms, pulleys and freights moved in a cohesive motion. A tower pointed a hundred feet into the sky and workers in orange jumpsuits and others in white coats scurried about in their own worlds. Each one doing their part as planned. The platform they stood on the ocean floor fifty feet over the cold, crashing waters below with reinforced legs. They knew they were safe.
"Well, my good friend," Möltken began," your Kogen Station is beautiful and i'm sure your expeditions for deep sea petroleum will lead us both in bright days. This is your ninth station opened and your fifth one today?"
"That is correct. I have plans for sixteen stations, " Yoshida paused to shake a passing man's hand, "Thank you Dr. Wellz, and each one will maintain to their primary objectives, however with individual "uniqueness", so to speak."
Möltken's eyes furrowed. "Sixteen? I'm sure I am mistaken but I recall fourteen stations total, with five more on the way."
Yoshida smiled and patted his back as he led him away from the bustling crowd consuming refreshments and conversing with one another. "I can assure you that there is still much to talk about but you can be rest assured that there are two more with special intentions." Yoshida stopped in front of the rail, overlooking the giant, icy monster that is the Southern Altantic Ocean. "There is so much to explore in these waters and they all hold keys to magnificent wonders. Wonders which can be able to transform not one but millions of lives."
"Mr. Yoshida, what are you saying?" Möltken grew curiouser. He held on to the cold bars in front of him and looked at him intently.
"I am saying, Mr. Möltken," Yoshida's smile faded as he gazed off into the ocean, "there are places out there that have to be explored, barriers that have to be broken, and things that must be changed to truly benefit the human race in its raw form."
Möltken sighed as his mind heavied with thoughts. "Well, remember you have my allegiance to Tagruato. I will stand beside you-"
"Thank you my friend-"
"-as long, as you keep to the agreement, Mr. Yoshida." Möltken's eyes locked with Yoshida's and the stare was broken with a small vibrations in the rails that he was holding. Yoshida looked down at the bars and then at the tables and chairs on the open platform and a look of shock erupted over his face. "Mr. Yoshida-
A sudden burst of tremors erupted beneath the station, violently shaking it. Crates fell, steam spewed from pipes and the crowd shouted and ran for cover. Mr. Yoshida gripped the railing and fearfully looked at the station around him as the tremors shook the floors.
Then in an instant, the shaking stopped and the people slowly rose from under the tables and corners. They whimpered with each other and quickly made their way towards the helicopter bads and docking stations.
A man in a red jumpsuit hurried over to Yoshida and pulled him aside. "Sir, you're needed in the control room."
Yoshida looked stunned but nodded as he gave a quick look at Möltken. "I suggest you hurry with the rest of them. I need to tend to this." He didn't shake the frightened man's hand but quickly left with the worker. "I'm sure there's an explanation to your "indestructible" materials." He finally said, leaving the poor man at the railing.
Möltken didn't say anything but tightly held the bars that supported his shaking body. He looked down at the darkening waters and noticed the waters to be awfully calm after the tremors. Too calm. Möltken finally let go of the rails and joined the rest of the frightened crowds alongside the helicopter pads.
Paramount Pictures and Bad Robot Productions present...
A fan fiction written by moises08
Perfect. Flawless. Devious. Hidden beneath the darkest of shadows and empowering its might with the a fraction of what is Cthulhu's rage, the ocean is God's gift and curse. An enigma filled with wonder and terror, the abyss has even the heavens cowering in regret. Where the deepest dwellers lie silent, thriving for movement. Creatures of both wondrous and horrific proportions. Truly, a monstrous perfection.
For the past half-century the mega-tycoon "Tagruato-CORP.", a world leader in energy resources, medical research, advanced technology production and consumable product, has challenged the world to reach in itself for the advancement of technology and energies. Having founded its roots in underwater drilling stations, Tagruato committed itself to the search of sub-oceanic wonders which may hold the key to disease, war and static development. It wasn't until the late twentieth century that Tagruato had decided upon global expansion of its drilling projects. The corporation became even more defensive from outside resentment to its rising expansions. There were those who were curious to its projects and Tagruato defended that right as a world power; sometimes, all too aggressively.
100 miles West of Puerto Montt
July 17, 1997
Jonas West reached a point on the rope and observed the barnacles foaming over the torn end. Somehow he imaged millions of microscopic sea plantae busying themselves. These minuscule creatures unsuspecting to the larger world, had no idea that a monster watched intently from afar. With final tug he was able to loosen the crates from the upper deck. Large metallic boxes, smaller than freights, began sliding down towards the stern.
These crates were tightened over by tarps. They collided atop the first deck, hidden beneath the roaring of the early morning waves. The air riddled with sea salt and noise had no effect on Jonas West, a marine biologist of the older days. He steadied his feet on the rocking ship of the "Abrams", owned privately by Captain Stephan Cower and Regis Landle.
West shield his eyes from the hovering sun and looked up. "What's cookin'?" The taste of sea salt tickled his mouth.
"Alten wants a word with you about the efficiency of the machine." Loomis, a long time partner and friend, stood over the rail of the upper deck. He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed. "He said something about not having the right rods."
"What?" West dropped the ropes and made his way around the crates and towards the stairs, gripping the guardrail of the ship. "I already told him those rods were the right size. We've already went through with this, just this morning!"
Loomis raised his hands in innocence and made an "I don't know" expression. "Talk to him about it. He seemed pretty ticked though."
West took off his gloves and shook his head grumbling. "I don't give a rats ass what he is." He walked into the pilot house with Loomis following. "Tagruato slime," He grumbled, "Where is he?"
"I'm right here Jonas."
West walked around the control monitors, machines and gyroscopes to the farther room in the back. Alten Stevens, a man in his mid thirties sat around table with an older man. For a second, Alten's eyes met with West and then he went back to a map of the southern South American coast lines. Stevens bore the erosion of sleepless nights and the corruptive stench of exploitive power.
"So you see here Captain, these schematics of Tagruato's Deep Sea Drilling Stations show that there's no record of its station in this thousand mile range. My first indication was that we were sailing from Montevideo to the Kogen Station, but soon found out that we were both mistaken." Stevens looked up at West discomfortingly. "Where are you taking us, Mr. West?"
"Hmm, I see." Captain Cower leaned back and then smiled as he found West standing in the doorway. "Yes, Jonas would you care to explain me this miscalculation."
West paused for a moment stunned and then pointed a quick finger at Stevens. He looked at the Captain calmly and walked over towards the map. "Captain, I thought we had made it clear that the coordinates that I had were legitimate."
"Yes, we did but if it is so legitimate then why doesn't your Kinto Station show up on the company's records?" The Captain suddenly became intense. "I don't feel comfortable sailing this far without a legitimate source."
West sighed furiously and pulled out a map from the inside of his jacket and slid it next to the other two maps on the table. "Tagruato's records publicly show nine drilling stations placed all over globe thus far. Here's one in the the Inland Sea, here's another on the Ionian Basin and another placed right below the Kosho Station in the Sea Of Okhotsk. There are plenty more."
The Captain looked at the maps curiously.
West continued. "But, there are a few stations that aren't publicly admitted."
Stevens' hands flew in the air and he grunted. "Captain Cower this is ridiculous! He's talking about imaginary stations here."
"Let him speak Mr. Stevens." The Captain calmly allowed West to continue.
"There are two that I have coordinates of. Two that aren't shown on the records. One is Kinto Station with the coordinates somewhere 60° South 95° West and the other is the Quang Station located 11° North 142° East. Yes, I said that we were looking Kinto Station. Yes, that station isn't on the public records. But I have my sources that convince me that Kinto Station exists in these waters."
The Captain paused for a moment and studied the three maps. West's map showing the handwritten coordinates and two dots placed in the lower and upper part of the Pacific Ocean, Stevens' map with the Tagruato Logo on the upper left hand corner with all the shown Deep Sea Drilling Stations, and the other map showing the schematics of longitudes and latitudes. He looked up Stevens and nodded, then at West. "But does it convince me? I'm afraid not."
West turned around furiously and placed his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. Loomis stood next to the door with folded arms. "Captain Cower, if my colleague says the station exists, then there should've be a problem. I have never been let down by him once."
"What happened here?" West continued regardless. "I thought I had paid you to take me out here with no questions asked."
"Not when it involves danger to my ship." The Captain's voice became louder and stern.
"There's no danger here." West shouted. "We're heading for a station with food and equipment if you're worried about that."
The Captain rose to his feet. "Mr. West, I've been sailing on these waters for thirty years and I know it takes more brawn than brain to sail into a pole of inaccessibility with limited recourses."
Stevens finally broke the silent pause between them. "Captain Cower, I know we established the pointlessness of this exhibition but one might be curious enough to wonder how his mission would be carried out without event the proper equipment."
"What are you talking about?" The Captain looked back between Stevens and West.
"Jonas, you haven't told the Captain the entirety of your mission?" Stevens said slyly.
"Alten, you slick son of a bitch." West grumbled. "This wasn't part of the trip." He said louder. "I was going to tell you when we got to the station."
"What are you doing, Man?!" The Captain exclaimed. Captain Cower walked over to the window over the lower deck of the Stern where the crates slightly slid back and forth. "What are you carrying on my ship? I can't risk my ship on these waters."
West sighed and swept his hand through his hair. "They're disassembled parts of a miniature sub designed for deep sea exploration."
"What for?" The Captain angrily looked at West. "You told me you wanted a ride to this Kinto Station and back, not for some exploration!"
West felt more and more uncomfortable. "I told you a part of my mission, the rest doesn't concern you or the ship."
"What is your mission then?"
Loomis tightened his fist and felt a wave of dread over him. West looked uncertainly at him and sighed, turning back towards the Captain. "My benefactor needed to see the area of the station for any environmental hazards, for the well-being of Tagruato's objectives."
Stevens had a look of bewilderment on his face.
"Well, even if this Kinto Station existed, how could you complete your mission taking into account what Stevens had said."
"I don't know what he's saying Captain. I made it clear to him that the machine is fully functional and ready for quick assembling."
Stevens stood up as well and shot a finger at West. "Liar. I checked the crates this morning and found that you are missing two of the six needed hydrogen rods."
"You've been sneaking around the crates haven't you?" Loomis charged forward.
The Captain slammed his fist on the table and barked. "Enough! I will see to this personally that this voyage is over. We are returning to Puerto Montt immediately." The Captain took out his walkie, staring at the West and Stevens furiously. "Regis?"
After a second of static, a voice crackled over the radio. "Yes, Captain."
"Reduce velocity forty-five degrees South-Southeast." The Captain continued to look at the men, studying them.
"Yes sir." Then the voice crackled and the radio died.
"As of now our contract is terminated between us Mr. West."
"Under what grounds?" West shouted.
"Under the grounds of suspicious activity and false pretenses!" The Captain turned and headed out the door. "Good evening gentlemen, I would advise you to pack up your materials and equipment. We won't be long."
After a long pause following the closing door, West shouted as he threw the table aside. Papers and the maps flew violently and West lunged towards Stevens, gripping his collar and slamming him against the wall.
"God Dammit, Stevens! I knew better than to hire Tagruato's slime!" West gritted through his teeth.
Stevens also breathed furiously. "There's more to this mission than you told the Captain, isn't there?"
"I'm not saying anything to you, especially to you."
"I wonder Jonas, who's your benefactor?" Stevens smiled arrogantly. "Is it T.I.D.O.wave? Striking down against Tagruato since 1945? Or has the motto changed?" Stevens sneered and pushed West aside. "Go back home, forget about this and tell your "benefactors" to lay off."
West glared at Stevens as he made his way out of the room.
There was only the thunder of the waves and the rocking of the ship. Loomis walked over to West and patted him on the back.
"Damn. We should've known better than to bring Stevens here." West sighed. He sat down and placed his head on his hands.
"It couldn't be helped. We needed a Tagruato employee in order to gain access to it's territories."
"What I don't understand though, is how he found out? We made it clear that we were on a simple voyage to Kinto Station and then this."
Loomis helped him up and brought the table right side up again. "Well old friend, "he paused for a moment as he saw Stevens shoot a glance from outside the window, "there's nothing we can really do now."
West said nothing but looked at the maps littered on the floor. On the map with the Tagruato logo, exactly on the waters they were sailing on, was a pink circle labeled "TAGARON PROJECT".
Later that night, West sat hunched over a journal on his desk.
"July 17, 1997," he wrote, "Everything was going so well. According to the coordinates, we were less than three days away. Unfortunately, my suspicions about Stevens came true. The Tagruato swine proved all too troublesome yet it's how he obtained the knowledge about the mission that bothers me: who can I trust? Loomis, my long time partner and friend, knows better than to confide in Tagruato employees. Everyone else seemed so cooperative. What happened this morning? T.I.D.O.wave sent me a letter concerning the Tagaron Accident. I didn't lie to the Captain and his company but there would've been such a cost had I spilled everything. Several weeks ago a contact notified T.I.D.O.wave of a recent chemical spill. A spill of what? I'm not sure. T.I.D.O.wave refused to disclose that information to me but my mission was set regardless. I was dispatched to explore the extent of the damage caused by the spill and the hot zone is no where other than Kinto Station. Coincidence? I'm not sure right now, but I have to find some way to turn this ship around. Tagruato's stations have done enough of destroying this earth. The problem lies in awareness. Where the media fails to uncover the truth, we will expose. I must not fail. There are thousands of potential species at risk. Hell, because we don't know what the chemical is it makes it even more dangerous. Hopefully, with the machine that can put the Alvin to shame, I can manage to delve deep enough to see. And when I do, everyone will know."
West put down his pen and walked out of his cabin. He went through the ship, up towards the Stern until he saw Loomis leaning on the rail. Loomis was watching the waves rush behind the ship as it sped on and away from their target. He drunk from a small can that was labeled "Slusho."
"What do you see?" West asked in the brisk sea air. He walked up next to his chubby friend and watched the glimmer of the night sky.
"Nothing. I checked the crates and believe it or not," Loomis looked uneasily at West, "we've got missing rods."
West sighed and laid his head against a nearby pole.
"I'm just wondering, how could such a force cause so much devastation and we don't even know about it? The world doesn't know about." Loomis had then imagined Tagruato's projects.
West turned to him and sighed. "There has to be a way of going back. A sign, anything."
"What are you thinking, pal?' Loomis asked curiously, slurping the drink.
"The Tagaron Accident is too big to go unnoticed. Tagruato's mistakes have always been swept away in secrecy but not this time. I believe that something big is going to come out of this, whether it be for the worse of Tagruato or for us."
Loomis laughed and shook his head. "You need a break man." He caught another glimpse of Stevens from the corner of his eye.
West began laughing but stopped as he yanked the drink from Loomis' grip. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Hey, that's mine!"
West read it and tossed it into the sea.
"Loomis, you got some balls drinking that crap."
"Well, that crap was good for your information."
West ignored him and watched the seas unfold. That crap, West though, was the one thing that kept Tagruato running powerful in the public. Curious.