A/N – I have to thank everyone who has reviewed. When I started this story…well, it was a little thing Random Insights and I were just joking around about. It has now become a serious story, though I hope that I have put in enough comedy to make people smile. I am glad that this story has turned out different. I shall try to keep it that way. I still have no clue what is going on – so, enjoy the ride. I know I will.

The Legend of Bigfoot

Walking slowly, he scanned the forest floor. Unlike the tropical forests of Costa Rica and the Anaconda – the American/Canadian forest didn't have a thick rug of leaves, sticks and other debris. There were also no man-eating ants. He shivered at that, he had two occasions to deal with the man-eating ants and it wasn't fun at all.

Teddy grinned, carefully he disturbed the leaves that were on the ground. Below this thin level of leaves was a giant print. Taking out his tape measurer he took down the scientific facts of the print. It was 5'4, there were six toe imprints and one long claw. He wrote this down, but left the species of animal blank. Then, Teddy took out his water bottle and dry plaster flakes. With him he had a plastic bowl, a brush and a spoon.

He mixed the plaster together and poured it into the foot imprint. The sutu-mold held up well. Imprints were very delicate to work with. Sometimes they would hold up well, sometimes they would crumble and sometimes you only had a partial which really didn't give you much of anything.

Teddy wrote down that he was taking a plaster mold and noted the time. He had to wait thirty minutes for the mold to set and dry.

If one has ever been into horror movies and actually paid attention, this would be the part of the story where everything goes quiet. Not a bird is chirping, the wind blows icy and the tree branches above your head scratch together. Fear's that you haven't thought about since you were thirteen, at that gentle age were fact and fiction intermingle and yet you know you must leave youth behind; well, this is when everything goes to hell in a hand basket.

The snorting was the first thing Teddy heard. The rustling of leaves was next. As his curiosity got the better of him, Teddy began to part bushes at intervals. He was sure the snorting had to be that of a wild pig, for there were stories of wild pigs that had been domesticated. As Teddy rooted around for the source of the flickering leaves. He heard a series of thumps. This coupled with the rustling made him lose the smile he had on his face. He held still for several moments before he turned.

He stared into slathering rows of teeth…

Then, all was black.

--

Tom yawned. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. It had been ages since he had childish nightmares; however, these had crept up on him like someone running with scissors. It sliced him in the heart so he couldn't breathe. His heart beat like a drum in the Beatles Band.

Now, he sat on the couch in the living room with a mindless movie playing. The sound was down low so that he wouldn't wake Doug who had some how fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon. This left Tom with a lot of time to think. Somehow his thoughts had come full circle to Doug's pronounced Werefoot.

They hadn't gotten a good view of the creature when they drove down the road. Tom had stopped a great distance away from it and fired two shots to make it run; which it did, which in turn made Doug a "believer". He rolled his eyes at this thought. Doug had gone out and gotten any and all books he could find about Bigfoot and Werewolves. Tom had opted to stay at the cabin and straighten it up. It wasn't polite to stay in someone else's home and not at least clean it once in a while. Tom planned a thorough one before they left.

He shifted into more of a reclining position on the couch and reached for his soda. The movie got to the credits and the next movie of the marathon was announced. "Police Academy 4" was one of his favorites, Tom couldn't remember the last time he had watched it. It might have been with Judy when he was depressed over Amy's death. Or the first time he and Doug had their first date. Things like that tended to meld together in such ways that he couldn't exactly decipher which went where.

Tom glanced away from the television set to the window set behind and to the side of the entertainment studio. Two glaring stale, leeching eyes stared right back to him. Breathe from the muzzle fogged up the window to a point where all he could see was the eyes and the top of the furry head.

"Doug! DOUG GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" Tom yelled, he pushed himself over the top of the couch to land hard on the floor behind. Feeling frantically under the couch he came up with a shot gun that he had put there the night before. It was all ready loaded and so all he had to do was aim and shoot.

When he popped back up and aimed at the window….the creature was gone.

Doug came stomping down the stairs: "What the hell's the matter?" he asked. He was still half asleep and half dressed.

"I saw that…thing!"

"The…thing…?"

"Your Werefoot!" Tom replied indignantly.

"Oh,"

"It was staring at me…through that window!" Tom pointed to the window in question. Doug went over and looked out.

"I don't see anything but…footprints…!"

"Footprints?!"

Doug raced outside, Tom followed with the shot gun. No way was he going to be out there with some feral animal on the run. Even if it was a hoax, it was a bloody good one and he hoped he didn't kill any kids in the process of protecting himself and his boyfriend.

"Wow…look at these prints…they're huge!"

"How huge?"

"King Kong Huge!" Doug grinned.

"Oh god save me!" Tom shook from head to toe.

"Come on, we're gonna make a plaster imprint!"

"Is that legal?"

"Yes, it's perfectly fine. Gee, stop being such a wet blanket!"

"Whatever you say Dr. Jones!" Tom replied sarcastically as they moved back inside the house.

--

"We figured if anyone would know what it was, it would be you, Dr." Doug explained as the older man leaned over the plaster imprint. Dr. Van Caelon muttered to himself as he measured the mold and made some notes.

He was a man in his late fifties, about to retire but not wanting to do it empty handed. He needed something for the New York Museum of Natural History and this was it. He needed a carcass of this new species for historical research. It would be the talk of the world when he made the announcement.

"Interesting. Where exactly did you find it?" Claude asked.

"By the cabin, apparently it's a peeking tom," Doug replied. He gave a look to his boyfriend as he did so.

"He likes my friend here a lot,"

"So, this wasn't the first time you saw it then?" Claude asked, his attention turning to Tom.

"No, I saw it once when we were hiking and again on the road, this would be the third time," Tom explained.

"My, my, it seems to like you," Claude chuckled.

"Apparently," Tom glowered.

"Well, your Werefoot as you call it, must be enamored with you. Maybe you could help me," Claude smiled secretly.

"Help in what way?" Doug asked.

"Penhall! Don't get excited!"

"Help me catch the creature, you two would have your names all over the papers with this discovery!" Claude replied.

"No! no! Doug, what about our jobs?" Tom tried to interrupt.

"Tell you what, you keep our names out of the papers and you have a deal," Doug said.

"Done!"

"NOT DONE!" Tom grabbed his boyfriend, "Excuse us," he said as he dragged Doug away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tom asked angrily.

"Oh come on! It'll be fun!"

"No it will not!"

"What could go wrong? It's not like we're facing Nazi or anything," Doug waved his hand.

"It's me who has to be the bait!"

"So? I'll be right there. What can go wrong?" Doug asked with a smile.

"A lot can go wrong," Tom replied.

--

A/N – Okay, I went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls. So, I am slightly inspired. I hope its enough to keep this fic off track!