YARA-MA-YHA-WHO

An Aboriginal Dream-Time monster stalks Glen Hartwell forest, killing & eating people

Ellody and Anne-Marie Deetz walked hand in hand with their boyfriends, Geoff and Noah Preston, through the sweet-smelling pine and eucalyptus forest a kilometre or so outside Glen Hartwell, in the Victorian countryside. It was mid-March, and the weather was still warm in the afternoon, straight after school. The teenage girls had told their parents they were staying back at school to research an assignment; actually, they were planning to finally let their boyfriends take their virginities.

"So what'd you want to show us out here?" asked Noah, at seventeen, the oldest of the four teens. A tall, wiry, raven-haired boy.

The two blonde sisters giggled and blushed red.

"We could be doing our homework at the library," said Geoff, a tall, lanky sixteen-year-old with long red hair.

"Wouldn't you rather be having fun with us?" teased Ellody, sixteen, the oldest of the twin girls by forty-odd minutes.

"Depends on what you mean by fun?" asked Noah.

"What have you two been bugging us to do since last year?" demanded Ellody, like her sister, a full head shorter than the Preston brothers.

"What, to show us your tits?" asked Geoff, more from hope, than expectation.

"Sure, why not?" asked Ellody.

The Deetz sisters exchanged a look, then, giggling from embarrassment, opened their blouses and pulled down their bras, so their boyfriends could see their breasts.

"Holy crap," said Noah, reaching for his phone.

"Uh-uh, no pictures," said Anne-Marie, "Mum and Dad would skin us alive if they ever got back to them.

"Okay," said Noah, reluctantly putting his phone into his schoolbag.

"Can we touch them?" asked Geoff, hopefully.

The two girls exchanged looks, giggling again, then Ellody said, "Sure, but don't squeeze too hard."

"To you they're tits, but to us they're flesh and blood," said Anne-Marie.

"No sweat, girls," said Noah, in his excitement, almost falling over.

The two boys put their hands on their girlfriend's breasts, somehow resisting the urge to squeeze hard.

Giggling, Ellody said, "You can squeeze a little harder."

Squeezing Ellody's breasts firmly with both hands, Geoff leant forward to suck one of the nipples.

"What're you think, Sis, should we let them suck our titties?" asked Ellody with a laugh.

Anne-Marie had backed away when Noah first tried to suck her nipples, but giggling, she stepped forward again, and said, "Sure, why not?"

So intent were the boys on sucking their girlfriends breasts that they didn't even notice when the girls sneaked off their blouses and bras, to stand topless in the forest.

"Hey," said Ellody, backing away a little. "The least you two could do is get topless also."

Staring at their topless girlfriends, the teenage boys hurried to oblige.

Giggling like the schoolgirl she was, Anne-Marie asked her sister, "Should we strip off completely, Sis?"

"If we're gonna let them fuck us we'd better," said Ellody, pretending not to notice the wide-eyed looks of the two boys.

"Yeah, only tramps let boys fuck them with their clothes still on," agreed Anne-Marie.

The girls hurriedly stripped to the buff, careful to drop their clothes onto their schoolbags, so they would not get any tell-tale pine needles or gum leaves on them.

For a while, the two boys, not believing their luck, stood staring at the two naked girls. Then finally, they started toward them, hands raised breast-height.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" called Ellody. "You boys, too."

"Yeah, you're not fucking us with your clothes still on," protested Anne-Marie.

Almost drooling from excitement, the two boys hurried to strip off their clothes, and both boys fell over from excitement, their legs tangled in their trousers. The two girls stood giggling in delight as the boys had to fight their trousers to remove them.

Finally naked, the two boys climbed to their feet and advanced excitedly toward their girlfriends.

Looking worried for the first time, Ellody asked, "So, how are we gonna do this? Doggy-doggy? Or on our backs?"

"Doggy-style," said both boys.

"Okay," said Anne-Marie, "but none of that sticking it into the wrong hole accidentally, on purpose."

"Honey, what kind of animals do you think we are?"

"Well, you are boys, aren't you?" said Ellody.

The two girls giggled as they went down on their hands and knees on the thick carpet of pine needles and gum leaves.

As the teens started to couple, the girls cried out in pain as their hymens were burst, but did not tell the boys to stop.


In an old-growth blue gum tree a couple of metres away from the mating teenagers, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who watched in interest. Perhaps a hundred and fifty-five centimetres tall, the creature was mainly stomach, and an oversized head, with long, thin arms and legs, with suckered toes and fingers to help to cling on, and to draw blood from its victims before devouring them. Its jaws weren't hinged at the back, so it could swallow whole small children. It had blood-red skin, blood-red hair, and gleaming red eyes, all of which helped to terrify its chosen prey.

The Yara-Ma-Yha-Who watched the coupling for a moment, then leapt from its branch on top of Noah Preston. Landing with a thud, it slammed its suckered fingers into his neck to drain the teenager's blood, before it chewed a great chunk out of the dark-haired boy's neck, causing him to scream and start gyrating.

"What's happening?" cried Anne-Marie, still having not seen the monster.

By way of answer, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who chewed off her face and most of her brain tissue, then began draining her blood through the suckers in its finger tips. Then, the creature went back to Noah to finish draining his blood, then devoured his genitals before returning to eat away at Anne-Marie's breasts and stomach. Slobbering in blood lust, the creature rolled the girl over, so it could devour her fatty buttocks.

With Noah no longer crying out, and Anne-Marie having been killed too quickly to scream, Ellody and Geoff kept rutting like animals, both enjoying their first sexual experience. Unaware that their siblings had been killed.

The Yara-Ma-Yha-Who watched the coupling teens for a moment, then raced across, knuckle walking to chew away Geoff's buttocks, then genitals.

Screaming, Geoff rolled off Ellody, who found herself face to face with the Dream-Time monster.

Screaming shrilly, the girl rolled away, just in time to avoid having her face chewed off. Then, forgetting her clothes and schoolbag, the naked teenager raced back through the forest, shrieking shrilly as she desperately tried to escape the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who.

However, when the girl fled, rather than chase her into town and risk being seen, the creature settled for draining and killing and devouring most of Geoff Preston, before returning to digest more of Anne-Marie Deetz, then Noah. Then, finally sated, it knuckle walked deeper into the forest, knowing that the naked girl would bring people back looking for it.


Over at the Mitchell Street Police Station in Glen Hartwell, they were having tea or coffee with homemade jam doughnuts, sitting around the huge blackwood desk just inside the front door.

"Wow, Mrs. M.'s doughnuts leave the shop-bought ones for dead," said Sheila Bennett. At thirty-six, Sheila was a Goth chick with orange-and-black striped hair and was the second-top cop of the area.

"Yeah, she really should be selling them," said Suzette Cummings. At eighteen, Suzette had long, black hair and was a trainee cop only.

"Hey, don't give her any ideas," said Terri Scott. Also thirty-six, the ash blonde was the top cop of the area, and was engaged to Colin Klein.

"Yes, she might start charging us," said Colin. A tall, lean redhead, Colin had worked as a London crime reporter for thirty years before moving to the area and being employed by the Glen Hartwell Police Department.

"You know, we really should be starting back to work," said Terri.

"There are still five doughnuts left," said Sheila. She quickly grabbed two of them, then said, "I mean three doughnuts left, one for each of you."

"We'd better grab one each, before the walking stomach eats them all," teased Colin.

"Hey, I burn off all the excess kilojoules at the gym every Saturday," insisted the Goth chick, "so I need to eat lots."

"That's her excuse anyway," said Suzette, before she, Terri, and Colin each grabbed one of the remaining raspberry jam doughnuts.

They were still talking and eating their doughnuts when the door to the police station burst open and the naked figure of Ellody Deetz raced into the front room.

"Red pig!" gasped Ellody, before collapsing to the floor.

Racing across, Colin picked up the teenage girl in his police coat and carried her across to the table.

While Colin checked her pulse and breathing, Suzette rang through to the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital for an ambulance.

Fifty minutes later, Ellody was in a ward at the hospital with Tilly Lombstrom and Topaz Moseley attending to her.

"How long before we can talk to her?" asked Terri Scott.

"Not until she comes to, of course," said Tilly. Tilly, an attractive fifty-something brunette, was a top surgeon at the hospital.

"Even then, she might be too weak to talk to you," said Topaz, a gorgeous, thirty-something platinum blonde.

"But we need to know why she was running naked through Glen Hartwell," said Sheila.

"And what she meant by 'red pig'," said Colin. Then, when the two medics stared at him, "That was all she said before collapsing."

"Red pig?" repeated Tilly, puzzled. "Are there any wild boars in the forest around Glen Hartwell?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Terri. "And we've encountered almost every kind of creature, real or mythical, that you could imagine."

"You don't think it's a werepig?" asked Sheila. Then when the others stared at her, "Well, we've encountered werewolfs, werebison, a weremoose ... you name it!"

It was nearly two hours before Ellody finally revived and told them falteringly what she had seen. By then, her parents had been called and were seated beside her bed, while the medics and cops stood around.

"A huge red pig ate your sister and the Preston boys?" asked Terri, astonished.

"I think it was a pig. I only saw it for a few seconds before I was running naked, screaming in terror through the forest, expecting it to run me down and eat me too."

"Where exactly were you when it attacked?" asked Colin.

"About a kilometre straight outside the Northern end of Glen Hartwell," said Ellody. Trying to avoid the accusing eyes of her parents, having told them why she was naked.


Half an hour later, the three cops, plus Tilly, Elvis Green, and Jesus Costello, were at the death site, along with three ambulances and their crews.

"Yeech," said Sheila Bennett, looking at the gutted remains of the three teenagers,

"The red pig, or whatever it was, certainly devoured most of the teens," said Elvis Green, the local coroner, an avid Elvis Presley fan.

"Although how any one animal, short of a whale, could devour so much in one feeding is a mystery," said Jesus Costello, administrator and chief surgeon at the hospital.

"Maybe there was more than one," suggested Sheila. "Ellody said, after Geoff rolled off her screaming, she came face to face with the pig, or whatever it was, and span out of its reach, then took off without stopping to grab her clothes."

"So maybe there were others and she just didn't see them?" opined Colin.

After Sheila had taken numerous crime scene pictures with her phone, the paramedics moved in to shift the remains of the three teens to the rear of the ambulances to transport them to the hospital.

"Well, we've done our bit," said Tilly, climbing into one of the ambulances. "Now you three can figure out what really happened."

"So what's next, Chief?" asked Sheila.

"Check with the local pig farmers to see if they've had any stock escape and go feral over the last five or six years," suggested Colin.

"Good thinking, babe," said Terri. Taking out her mobile, she said, "I'll ring through to Louie Pascall to see if we can rent his helicopter to get round to all the pig stations in the area."

Over the next few days, they checked out more than forty pig stations without success.

"They're too valuable for us to take any risks with," said Paulie Cody, one of the station owners. "We have metal corrals for them now, with the poles going too deep for them to dig under. Plus, we have as quick a turnaround as possible from raising to slaughtering. We have to now, we're paid so little by the supermarket chains we can't afford to dawdle. And Albanese has made it plain he won't do anything about the price gouging by the big two."

Returning to Glen Hartwell from the Cody Pig Station, Colin saw something large climbing in a gum tree.

"What the Hell is that?" he asked.

Looking round, Terri said, "I don't know. It looks far too big to be a koala."

"Probably a tree kangaroo," said Louie Pascall. "It's amazing how those big buggers can scale trees, leaping from branch to branch."

"You'd think their huge feet would trip them up scaling trees?" said Sheila.

"They don't climb in the usual sense," said Louie. "They hop from branch to branch. There are many tree kangaroos around G.H. and the surrounds."

"How come we've never seen them, then?" asked Colin.

"Do you spend much time looking up trees, in the expectation of seeing kangaroos?" asked Louie.

"Well ... no," admitted Colin.


The Yara-Ma-Yha-Who looked up from its perch in a red gum tree and watched the helicopter, wondering whether the passengers could see it. Over the last century or so its kind had learnt many of mankind's strange habits. But flying in metal contraptions was something it was worried about. Its kind had always been all but invisible, unknown except through Aboriginal Dream-Time legends, but now man's ability to fly threatened their ability to remain unseen.

After a while, the helicopter sped on, to the relief of the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who. Still, it leapt from tree to tree to get further into the forest, for now.


Alexander 'Alex' and Jude Douglas were walking hand and hand through the forest outside Glen Hartwell. The two men had been lovers for twelve years and had been married since December 2017, when gay marriage had finally been legalised in Australia.

Alex, the husband, carried a heavy picnic basket, while Jude carried a large lilac, floral blanket to sit on while they ate their lunch.

"This looks like a good spot," said Jude, a tall, thin blond man of thirty. He spread out the blanket before Alex could disagree. Not as strong as his husband, Jude was starting to pant from the long country walk.

"Okay, honey," said Alex, a tall, muscular man with short black hair.

Between them, they laid out salad, a cold collation of meats and cheeses, and some crusty buns, already spread with Flora margarine.

Sitting, Alex patted the blanket beside him. Jude sat, then jumped away a little.

"What's the matter, honey?" asked Alex.

"The ground is lumpy there under the blanket."

"You could always sit on my lap," said Alex, patting his left thigh.

"Your lap tends to be lumpy too, when I sit on it."

Laughing, Alex said, "It's not my fault, your magnificent derrière gets me excited."

"Yes, well, my magnificent derrière is staying over here, where it's safe ... At least until we've finished eating."

"So who's hungry?"

"You are, so eat up."

"Tease," said Alex with a laugh.

Despite Alex's obvious arousal, Jude did his level best to keep his husband's urges at bay until they were finished.

Putting away the empty dishes, Jude said, "I'm full."

"Not as full as you're about to be," said Alex, crawling like a big cat toward his wife.

"Now calm down, honey, we can't do it here."

"Why not?"

"People might see us ... You know I'm shy."

"I know, you didn't come out until you were twenty. For the first couple of years when we dated, we had to pretend just to be mates."

"There you are," said Jude, hoping that was the end of it. "We can make love when we get home."

"But I'm horny now, I can't get that magnificent derrière of yours out of my mind. Besides, we're a couple of kays into the forest, and there is no one around to see us. Why can't a man and his wife make love in the forest?"

"I think there's a law against public indecency."

"What public, we're in the bush?" He looked around to check. "See, no one there."

Jude looked about carefully first, then said, "Well, I promised never to say no to you unless I was genuinely ill."

"And headaches don't count," said Alex, "since sex is the best known cure for headaches."

"Yes, honey," said Jude with a laugh, "you proved that to me the last time that I had a headache."

Looking around the pine and eucalyptus forest again, the blonde man stood up and slowly started taking off his clothes.

"That's my boy," said Alex, staring in lust as Jude slowly undressed.

"Hey, aren't you getting naked too?"

"Not yet, I'm enjoying the view too much."

"Stop teasing me, I'm nervous enough as it is."

"Sorry, honey," said Alex. He started undressing while still watching his wife.

Finally, they were both naked, and Jude went down on his hands and knees on the blanket before looking up.

"Uh-oh, I've just thought of something. Do we have any lubricant? You know I can't take that big Kransky sausage of yours without lubrication."

"What do you mean 'Kransky sausage'?" asked Alex, offended. "What I've got is more like a large salami."

"All the more reason why I can't take it without lubrication."

"I think there's still some mayonnaise in the basket."

"Mayonnaise?" asked a startled Jude.

"Why not?" asked Alex, opening the basket to take out a small bottle of mayo. "Brando used butter as lubricant before sodomising Maria Schneider in Last Tango in Paris."

"Oh ... all right, but make certain you use plenty of mayo."

"Don't worry, honey," said Alex, creeping up behind his wife.

Jude jumped a little as his husband inserted a mayonnaise-covered finger into his rectum, then squirmed around the finger, which was soon joined by a second.

"Slowly does it," pleaded Jude.

"Don't worry, honey," said Alex, although his manhood was getting painfully hard as he continued to lubricate his wife with mayo.

Then, after dousing his penis in mayo, Alex placed the glands of his penis against Jude's sphincter.

"Don't clench," he warned. "Once I start in, I won't have the control to stop again."

"Well, just go slowly at first," pleaded the blond man.

"I'll try my best," promised Alex, leaning forward to start the penetration.


A few metres away, Dakota Menzies, a thin, mousy blonde, and Tyler Mannering, a tall, dark-haired man, were walking hand in hand through the forest. They almost stepped out into the small clearing where Alex and Jude Douglas were making love.

"Look at that," whispered Dakota, "a couple of pooftahs going at it right in front of us."

"I've gotta get a video of this," said Tyler. Taking his mobile phone out of his shirt pocket, he started to video the two men."

"You pervo, you're getting off on this, aren't you?" accused Dakota. "Two pooftahs bumming each other."

"Nonsense, I thought maybe I could put it up on YouTube or something."

"Bullshit, you're a closet pooftah, getting off on it!" accused Dakota. "You probably wish it was you bumming the blond poof."


A few metres up a grey-white ghost gum tree, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who watched the two men making love, not seeing Dakota or Tyler, standing in the forest also watching the two men make love.

The creature watched the two men until Alex screamed in climax and Jude squealed as his bowels were filled with hot semen. Then, when the two men were at their most vulnerable, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who leapt from the tree and landed upon Alex's back.

Alex collapsed from the weight of the creature, taking his wife down to the ground beneath him. Before either man knew what was going on, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who began draining Alex's blood through the suckers on its fingertips, even as it chewed out the back of his head, along with half of his brain, then tossed the larger man aside like a rag doll, before ripping off Jude's face, and again, much of his brain matter. He then slowly drained the blond man's blood away through his suckered fingers, then returned to draining Alex.

Then, with both men dead, the creature started to devour them, staring with the brains, genitalia, then buttocks, before slowly devouring most of the muscles, organs and fat from their bodies, leaving behind little more than bloody bones.


"What the Hell is it?" asked Dakota, staring in horror at the blood red creature with scruffy red hair and bright red eyes. She covered her mouth with her hands, afraid of throwing up, in case the creature came after them next.

"Some kind of pygmy, I think," said Tyler, although he had never seen a pygmy in his life. "I hear pygmies are man-eaters."

He looked down to where he had dropped his camera in shock when the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who had dropped from the ghost gum onto the two men. It's a pity I didn't keep my wits and keep filming, he thought. Then I'd really have a video to put up on YouTube!

"Let's get outta here, I think I'm gonna chunder," said Dakota. She took off at a run back toward Glen Hartwell, projectile vomiting as she ran.

"Right behind you," said Tyler. Although he struggled to keep up with the terrified young woman.


Over at the Yellow House on Rochester Road, Merridale, they had just started lunch when Terri Scott's phone rang.

"Oh, no, not again," moaned Sheila Bennett. "Always at meal times."

Terri shooshed the Goth chick, then listened on the phone for a minute or so before saying, "I think it's happened again."

"Another red pig attack?" asked Colin Klein.

"No, according to the witnesses, it was a red pygmy this time."

"A pygmy?" asked Leo Laxman, a tall, thin Jamaican who worked at the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital.

"That's what the witnesses say."

"And the witnesses are?" asked Freddy Kingston, a tall, stout retiree.

"A young couple named Dakota Menzies and Tyler Mannering."

"Oh, yeah, I know Dakota and Tyler," said Sheila. "They live together in a small house in Dien Avenue. They've promised to let me be a bridesmaid if and when they get married."

"Sheils, one day we're going to have to crack open your giant head to get at your brain, to try to figure out how you always know this stuff!" said Colin.

"What do you mean 'giant head'?" asked Sheila, as the three cops abandoned lunch to head outside.


Twenty minutes later, they were at the Mitchell Street Police Station talking to Dakota and Tyler, who were drinking scalding cups of tea, served to them by Suzette Cummings.

"Tell us again what you saw," asked Terri.

"We saw too poofs ..." began Dakota, "two gay men having anal sex in the forest. Then this blood red pygmy jumped out of a gum tree, landed on them, and brutally slaughtered them..." She stopped looking as though she were about to throw up again.

"Then the thing ate them, incredibly quickly," said Tyler.

"You're sure it was a pygmy, not a wild pig?" asked Colin.

"Definitely it was a pygmy!" insisted Tyler. "I can tell a human being from a wild pig. Even a freaky looking human being!"

"Tyler's uncle breeds pigs," explained Dakota.

"Oh, that's right," said Sheila. "We visited your Uncle Howard yesterday."

How does she know this stuff? mouthed Suzette.

"Could you lead us back to the murder site?" asked Terri.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly!" insisted Dakota.

"I can lead you there," said Tyler, "but I won't go right up to the remains."

They heard the sound of sirens approaching, then stopping, before footsteps, then Derek Armstrong, a tall, black American-born paramedic, who was Sheila's boyfriend, opened the door, and said:

"We heard there have been more killings?"

"Yes, Tyler here is going to lead us there," said Colin.

"So you won't be able to beat us there, as you usually do," teased Sheila, grinning broadly at her boyfriend, who returned her grin.


Half an hour later, they were at the death site, with Tyler having stayed in Terri's police-blue Lexus, a hundred metres away.

"Yeech, it hasn't left much of them, our red pig," said Tilly Lombstrom.

"According to Tyler Mannering and Dakota Menzies, this time it was a red pygmy," pointed out Sheila.

"Oh!" said Tilly. "Either someone can't tell the difference between a pig and a pygmy, or we have both a red pig and red pygmy running through the forest eating people."

"Well, Ellody Deetz was so hysterical, she could easily have mistaken what she was seeing," said Elvis Green.

"And she only saw it for a couple of seconds before turning to run," added Jesus.

"Have you made any progress with the remains of the Deetz and Preston kids?" asked Terri.

"All we can say for certain," said Elvis, "is that something or someone ate them."

"Although we can confirm there were teeth marks over the remains, and no sign of any marks from a blade or other weapon."

"So either it's a red pig eating them, or a cannibal pygmy?" asked Colin.

"Looks that way," agreed Jesus.

Sheila took the usual crime scene pictures, then the mainly skeletal remains were taken away in two ambulances.

Walking across to the large blanket laid out on the ground, with the wicker basket upon it, Sheila said, "I think I recognise this blanket. It belongs to Alexander and Jude Douglas, the first married gay couple in Glen Hartwell."

"Oh, come on, Sheils," said Terri.

"She's definitely making it up this time," insisted Colin.

"No, seriously, they live, or rather lived, in Theobald Street. Right across the road from the railway station."

"Okay, let's go there," said Terri, as they headed back to the Lexus. "But, if you're making this up, Sheils ...?"

"No, I'm not!" insisted Sheila. She picked up the rug and the wicker basket and placed them in the boot of the Lexus before climbing into the driver's seat.

Half an hour later, they were knocking on the door of 44 Theobald Street, Glen Hartwell. After a few minutes, a blue-rinsed old lady came from number 42.

"Are you looking for Alex and Jude?"

"Yes, Mrs. Winchell," said Sheila. "Are they about?"

"No, they went out earlier for a walk through the forest."

"Did they take a blanket and picnic basket with them?" asked Terri.

"Yes, Jude's favourite lilac, floral blanket."

"This one?" asked Colin, taking it from the boot of the Lexus.

"Yes, how did you get that?" asked the old lady, looking surprised.

"I'm afraid they've had an accident," said Sheila, for once being diplomatic.

"I hope it's not too serious," said Mrs. Winchell, "I was planning to introduce them to my grandnieces, both around the same age as Alex and Jude."

Exchanging puzzled looks, the police decided not to comment as they headed back to the Lexus.

"Either Mrs. W. is in denial," said Sheila as she started the car, "or Jude and Alex never got around to telling her."

"I'm guessing the latter," said Colin.

They went to the Mitchell Street Police Station to put the wicker basket and the floral blanket in the evidence room before returning to the Yellow House for a very late lunch.


That Saturday, Oswald Pullman herded his two teenage nieces into his red Citroen to 'take them for a short ride in the forest'. A polite euphemism, which the girls knew meant he intended to sexually abuse them again. As he had been doing since their parents both died when they were only five and six, respectively.

"Can't we stay home and watch telly instead?" asked Izzi, a fourteen-year-old redhead, Uncle Oswald's favourite.

"No, honey, we'll go for a nice drive, a few kays into the bush ... where no one can see us."

"But we don't want to," begged Michelle, a thirteen-year-old brunette.

"Don't you dare say no to me!" shouted Oswald, no longer even pretending to be congenial. "After all I've done for you since Kev and Lily died."

"After all you've done to us!" insisted Izzi.

"You cheeky, ungrateful witch!" cried Oswald.

Slamming the car to a stop, he leant across the seat to try to slap the redhead's face. However, she pressed hard into the back seat, and he was unable to reach her.

"Ungrateful witch!" he repeated, before starting the Citroen again.

"I wish I were, so I could turn you into a frog," whispered Izzi, making Michelle giggle.

"That's more like it, Micky, enjoy the ride," said the paedophile, not knowing why she had giggled.

"It's starting to get dark already," pleaded Izzi.

"Nonsense, we've got another hour of daylight yet. Besides, the darkness will keep us safe from prying eyes."

If only it could keep us safe from you! thought Izzi.

Forty minutes later, they stopped under the shade of a broad, spreading Lemon-Scented Gum, which gave off a strong lemony aroma.

"Is that a lemon tree?" wondered Michelle aloud.

"No, honey, a Lemon-Scented Gum tree," corrected her uncle. "Now, girls, get your clothes off, we can't play with our clothes on."

"Most people do," said Izzi, receiving a glare from Uncle Oswald.

"You might be my favourite, Izzi, but that won't save you from getting your bum whipped, if you're cheeky!"

"How is pointing out most people play with their clothes on, cheeky?" asked Micky, jumping back, squealing as her uncle tried to slap her across the face.

Taking his thick, leather belt from his trousers, Oswald ordered, "Get back here, Micky, or you'll wish you were never born."

"I already do," said Michelle, crying.

Angry at the teen, Oswald reached forward and grabbed her by her long, blonde hair, making Michelle squeal as he pulled her toward him.

"Leave her alone," cried Izzi, hitting at her uncle with her fists.

Oswald easily pushed the redhead away, then pulled Michelle across his lap. He pulled up her skirt, then down her panties and began lashing her backside with the thick, leather belt.

As Michelle began screaming, Izzi shouted, "Leave her alone, you arsehole!"

Face flushed red from anger and excitement, Uncle Oswald said, without stopping the lashing, "Your turn next, hot bitch!"

"Like Hell, you bastard!" said Izzi.

Looking around, she saw a fallen branch from a blue gum tree. Picking up the branch, Izzi raced around behind her uncle and bashed him hard three times on the back of his head.

"Urk!" cried Oswald, before collapsing across Michelle, who screamed in terror, not knowing what was going on.

Dropping the branch, Izzi raced around to pull Michelle out from under the remains of their uncle.

Staring down at the bloody mess at the back of Oswald's head, Michelle asked, "What the Hell happened?"

"I killed the bastard," said Izzi, face flushed red from excitement and shock at what she had just done. "And I'm glad I killed him."

"Come on," said Michelle, grabbing the redheaded by an arm, "we've gotta get out of here, in case he's only unconscious."

"Oh, God, he'll kill me for sure," said Izzi, finally realising what she had done.

The two girls raced across to the Citroen.

"Where are we going?" asked Michelle.

"I can drive this thing," insisted Izzi, "Dagma, a friend at school, has been giving me lessons."

"Okay, let's get outta here," said Michelle as they climbed into the French car.

Watching from a few metres up the Lemon Scented Gum, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who had been about to leap upon Michelle and Oswald, when the redhead had raced around to bash her uncle's head in with the branch. But now it decided it was time to take action.

The monster leapt down upon Oswald Pullman but quickly realised that he was dead. Yara-Ma-Yha-Who only eat prey they have killed and will never scavenge corpses. So, abandoning the paedophile's corpse, it raced across toward the two girls in the red Citroen.

"Oh, my God, what is that?" asked Michelle, squealing in terror as the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who raced across toward them.

"Some kind of an ape, I think," said Izzi, turning the key to start the car. "A baboon, possibly, I think they're red."

"What would a baboon be doing in the Aussie bush?" asked the blonde.

"Maybe escaped from a zoo, or safari park," said Izzi as she gunned the Citroen and they took off, leaving the frustrated Yara-Ma-Yha-Who behind.

The creature ran after them for a few minutes, then, conceding it could never catch the car, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who turned round and headed back toward where Oswald Pullman lay upon the pine needles and gum leaves. It rolled Oswald over onto his back to check him carefully to ascertain that he was dead before, in frustration, abandoning the corpse and heading off, knuckle-walking deeper into the pine and gum forest outside Glen Hartwell.


"So what do we do now?" asked Michelle. "We can't go home."

"That place was never home," insisted Izzi. "Not with that pervo abusing us. It was Hell on Earth."

"But we have to live somewhere."

Izzi considered for a moment, then headed the Citroen toward the Mitchell Street Police Station.

Inside the station, they found Paul Bell, a tall, lanky, dark-haired sergeant, and Suzette Cummings.

"Is Terri Scott, or Colin Klein about?" asked Izzi, looking ghost white, the reality of what she had done finally striking home.

"Maybe we can help you?" said Paul Bell. He lifted two high-backed wooden chairs for the girls to sit down.

Sitting, the girls exchanged worried looks, then Izzi blurted out, "I just killed our Uncle Oswald."

"In self-defence," added Michelle hurriedly. "He was whipping me and intended to sexually abuse us both."

"How do you know he intended to sexually abuse you?" asked Suzette.

"He's been doing it since our parents died, when Micky was five, and I was six," said Izzi.

"Um, maybe we should ring through to Terri," said Suzette, reaching for the phone on the blackwood desk.


Over at the Yellow House, they were just sitting down to tea.

"What have we got for tucker tonight, Mrs. M.?" asked Sheila.

"Your favourite, Duck a L'Orange," said Deidre. "And guess what's for dessert?"

"Let me guess," said Colin Klein. "Her favourite, Cherries Jubilee."

"Correct," said Deidre. "You know she's my favourite house guest."

"And I've gotta keep up my strength for work, and gym work on Saturday," insisted Sheila.

"Well, I'm not complaining," said Tommy Turner, "as long as she puts plenty of brandy on the Cherries Jubilee."

"So do we, except for the gym work," said Terri, "but we don't always get our favourites. When is the last time we had rum trifle for dessert, my favourite."

"Oh, yes, I love that too," said Tommy, "As long as she uses plenty of rum."

"I'm surprised you lot can eat anything, having had such a late lunch," said Freddy Kingston.

"Who says we're gonna get to eat it?" asked Sheila.

"Don't be so cynical," said Natasha Lipzing. A grey-haired old lady of seventy-one, Natasha had spent just over half of her life at the Yellow House.

"Yes, it's not like every meal you're interrupted by work-related phone calls," said Deidre.

"No, only two a day on average," said Sheila.

"Sheils, you are such a pessimist ..." started Terri, stopping as her phone rang.

"Told you!" said Sheila.

"It's your own fault, mad Goth chick," said Colin.

"Yes, it's like you willed it down upon yourself by your cynicism," said Leo Laxman.

"Nonsense," insisted Sheila.

"I don't know," teased Colin. "The Swahili of Kenya believe ...."

"Ah, I can tell when you're making it up!"

"She got me this time," said Colin, making them all laugh.

"That was Paul Bell at Mitchell Street," said Terri, disconnecting. "He's doing night shift. It seems it's happened again."

"Damn those Swahili of Kenya!" said Sheila.

Forty minutes later, Terri, Sheila, and Colin were at the police station, listening, Sheila recording on her phone, as Izzi and Michelle Pullman repeated their tale.

The two girls had almost finished when Izzi suddenly said, "Oh, yes, I almost forgot. As we were driving off, a big red baboon dropped from a Lemon Scented Gum Tree and sniffed at Uncle Oswald's corpse, before chasing after us in the car."

"A baboon?" asked Terri in surprise. "You're sure it wasn't a red pig?"

"Or a red pygmy?" asked Sheila.

"No, I'm sure, sort of, that it was a baboon, or some other kind of ape."

"Actually, a baboon is an old-world monkey, not an ape," corrected Colin.

"So what do we do now?" asked Michelle.

"Well, first we'll take you to the hospital for now," said Terri. "Then tomorrow we'll ring the Department of Children's Affairs, to decide who will take care of you till you finish your schooling."

"Am I going to gaol for murder?" asked Izzi.

"No," said Terri, "sounds like your uncle got what he deserved."

An hour later, the two girls were in a ward at the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital, and Terri, Colin, Sheila, Tilly Lombstrom and an ambulance crew were standing around where the corpse of Oswald Pullman lay on the thick carpet of pine needles and gum trees.

"That gum tree does smell like lemons," said Sheila. "Very nice."

"Don't stand too close, Sheils, in case a red baboon drops onto you," teased Colin.

Glaring at Colin, Sheila hurried forward a few metres.

"So what's the verdict, Tils.?" asked Terri.

"He's definitely had the back of his head bashed in," said the brunette. Then, pointing to a gum branch with blood on it, "Presumably with that."

Sheila took numerous pictures, then the paramedics took away the corpse of the paedophile, plus the tree branch for testing.

"Just one thing?" asked Tilly. "If this red baboon is the same creature as the red pig, and the red pygmy, why didn't it nosh on Oswald Pullman's corpse?"

"Maybe it likes its food living?" guessed Colin correctly.

"Good thinking, babe," said Terri as the ambulance started.

"That would explain it chasing after Izzi and Michelle," added Sheila.


Bulam-Bulam was a grey-haired Elder of the Gooladoo tribe, outside the township of Harpertown in the Victorian countryside. Although he lived in a lean-to in his tribal village, he owned and worked a small grocery shop in Chappell Street.

An early riser, he had been up for hours. As he restocked the shelves of his shop, he could hear the sound of a car pulling up outside shortly after 7:30. Looking out the window, he saw Terri, Colin, Sheila, and Paul Bell alighting from Terri's police-blue Lexus.

"Tare, Col, Sheils, Paul," said the old man as he stepped out into Chappell Street.

"Our old made," said Sheila, racing across to hug the Elder.

"Enough of that 'old' stuff?" said Bulam-Bulam.

"We know," teased Sheila, "'Since sixty is the new forty', you're really only forty-six."

"And therefore middle-aged at most," said the Elder with a broad grin. "So, is this a social visit, or am I likely to earn some moola today?"

"Definitely earning some moola today," said Terri, hugging him.

They went on to tell the Elder of the events of the last couple of days.

"So it's either a red pig, a red pygmy, or a red baboon?" asked Bulam-Bulam.

"In fairness to the witnesses," said Paul Bell, "at least they all agreed that it's red. Even that is rare with half a dozen different witnesses."

"And it refused to eat a corpse?" asked Bulam-Bulam. When they nodded, he said, "It sounds like we're dealing with a Yara-Ma-Yha-Who. A particularly vicious Dream-Time monster. They are indeed like bloated red Pygmies, and could be mistaken in panic as a red pig. They are blood red, with red hair, and demonic red eyes. And they only eat prey they have killed themselves. Supposedly, you can save yourself by lying completely still, and they will think you are dead."

"Couldn't they tell by body heat?" asked Sheila.

"A corpse will retain most of its body heat for up to thirty minutes," said Colin. "Longer in a very hot summer, or in a desert."

"But you may have to lie there until sundown," said Bulam-Bulam. "They are very active by day, but not by night."

"So if it jumps down near you at breakfast time, you may have to play possum for twelve hours or more?" asked Sheila.

"Yes," agreed the Elder.

"Longer in summer," teased Colin.

"Can it be killed?" asked Terri.

"I imagine a rocker-launcher would destroy it," said Bulam-Bulam. "But I doubt if a handgun or rifle would hurt it much. Legends say spears or boomerangs only make it angrier and more determined to eat you. It will pull spears out and throw them back at you. However, it has weak arms and poor aim."

"Well, that's something," said Sheila.

"So who do we know with a rocket launcher?" asked Colin.

"Well, not quite a rocket launcher," said Terri, "but we do know a couple of girls with a military helicopter that fires rockets."

"Babs and Jenny!" said Sheila. "It must be weeks since we've seen them?"

"Yes, they do seem to bail us out a lot," admitted Terri. "I might wait until 10:00 before ringing the Assistant Commissioner in Russell Street."

"Why, doesn't he come on duty until late?" asked Bulam-Bulam.

"Damned if I know, but it gives me a couple of more hours before he shouts at me."

"Ah, come on, babe," said Colin, putting his hand around her. "Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet."

"I'd rather bite a bullet, or a grenade for that matter, than have the Assistant Commissioner of Police shouting at me again."

"You should be used to it by now, Tare," teased Sheila.


Late that afternoon, they were seated around the huge blackwood desk at the Mitchell Street Police Station, having tea, or in Colin's case, coffee, and homemade Anzac Biscuits, when they heard the whur-whur-whur of helicopter rotors outside.

"That sounds like our girls now," said Sheila, racing across to the doorway.

As they waited upon the lawn of the station, they saw an RAAF A25 Sikorsky S-70 Blackhawk helicopter approaching. After landing, out stepped its female pilot, fifty-something Jennifer Eckles, an attractive brunette with pixie-cut hair. Followed by her daughter and co-pilot, Barbara Eckles, also a brunette, but with long, flowing brown hair.

"Babs, Jenny!" cried Sheila, racing across to give them each a hug.

"Sheils," said Jennifer, hugging her back.

"So what are we up against this time?" asked Barbara. "Zombie polar bears, giant ice-skating mongooses, killer koalas?"

"A Yara-Ma-Yha-Who, according to Bulam-Bulam," said Colin Klein. When mother and daughter looked perplexed, he explained, "It's sort of like a cross between a giant, red, blood-sucking frog and a cannibal pygmy."

"Only in Glen Hartwell," said Jenny with a laugh, as they all climbed into the Blackhawk helicopter.

Over the next few days, they spent twelve hours a day searching through the forest without a sign of the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who. On the plus side, there were no more people slaughtered during that time. On the fourth day, they were getting ready to give up for the day, when Sheila spotted something large in a towering Salmon Gum, so named due to having smooth salmon-coloured bark during the summer that turns grey in the winter

"What's that?" asked Sheila, pointing toward the Salmon Gum tree.

"Should I nuke it?" asked Barbara Eckles as the large creature climbed higher up the tree.

"No, it could be a tree kangaroo," said Colin. He went on to repeat what Louie Pascall had told them a few days ago.

"Australia does have wacky and wonderful wildlife," said Jennifer.

She took the helicopter down low enough so they could confirm it was a tree kangaroo, which, unhappy at the whur-whur-whur of the chopper, hopped higher up the Salmon Gum.

"Just a tree kangaroo," said Terri.

"But, that's not!" said Sheila. She pointed to where the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who crouched three metres or so up a Lemon Scented Gum tree, ten metres or so away, waiting for a victim to pounce upon.

"I see what you mean about it being a cross between a giant, red, blood-sucking frog, and a cannibal pygmy," said Barbara.

"Arm weapons systems!" ordered Jennifer.

Barbara pressed some buttons on the console, then said, "Weapons systems armed."

"Wait on, how rare are Lemon Scented Gum Trees around here?" asked Sheila.

"According to Louie, there are two or three thousand outside Glen Hartwell and the surrounding towns," said Colin.

"Then blow the crap out of the sucker!" said Sheila, making them laugh.

"Fire!" ordered Jennifer.

Barbara was still laughing when she fired, hence the rocket exploded into a blue gum tree beside the Lemon Scented Gum.

Screeching like a terrified monkey, the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who jumped down from the gum tree and started knuckle running deeper into the forest.

"Get the sucker!" cried Sheila.

"I give the orders in this chopper, Sheils," said Jennifer. Then to her daughter, "Get the sucker!"

Barbara fired a second rocket, which landed close enough to send the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who flying through the air. But, despite its ungainly design, it started running again at a surprisingly fast pace.

"It can really motor for a cross between a giant, red, blood-sucking frog and a cannibal pygmy," said Barbara as she prepared to fire again.

This time, the rocket landed centimetres behind the creature and sent it flying high into the air. With no obvious sign of serious injury, Jennifer ordered, "One more, Barbara."

Barbara fired a final rocket before the Yara-Ma-Yha-Who could escape. The creature exploded like the overly full, red frog that it partly resembled. As it exploded, a vast amount of blood, guts, and organs flew out of the creature, as though it were disgorging every person it had ever eaten.

"Phew, stinky," said Sheila as they were almost overwhelmed by the stench of rotting flesh. "Let's hope we don't have to clean that up."

"No, I'll get George, Eunice and the Department of Building and Works to clean it up," said Terri, as Jennifer reversed the chopper to take them out of range of the hideous stench.

"Sooner them than us," said Colin Klein.

"You'd better warn them to wear gas masks," said Sheila Bennett, making them all laugh.

THE END
© Copyright 2025 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia