Aggie Park’s Aquatic Beast: Myth or Monster?

In its short life Aggie Park has already spawned a number of traditions that will surely endure well into future generations. One growing legend is that of Ol’ Sarge, a mysterious aquatic beast that dwells in the depths of Aggie Park’s twin ponds. It’s said to be a fish of such size, ferocity and malice that many a student fisherman has met their end at its fin. 

Ol’ Sarge supposedly lives in the deepest waters of the pond, where little survives and sunlight rarely reaches. Only surfacing to feed, some claim to have seen its shadowed form stalking the shores in the early morning, while others believe that the first group just had too much to drink. So many rumors abound of this scaled horror that it’s hard to distinguish fact from fiction. I endeavored to do just that by going out seeking the truth about Ol’ Sarge, and by the end, I wonder if I should have just let sleeping dogs (or fishes) lie. 

The only one willing to share their story was a grizzled old boat captain, who can be found tucked into a corner booth at Carneys on particularly foggy nights. With a Fisherman’s Brew in one hand and a hook where the other would have been, he looked like a man who had seen plenty of rough waters, but even the most experienced angler isn’t prepared for the story he had in store. 

“In those days we were young, eager, and terribly naive,” he began. “We believed the campus our domain, to explore and plunder to our heart’s content. We were naught but pond hoppers, barely out of our freshman dorms, when we thought ourselves ready to tackle the new Aggie Park pond, with its clear crisp waters and manicured shorelines. What fools we were…” 

His voice trails off, eyes going hazy, as if he was returning somewhere he’d rather not be. With a snap he returns. 

“Fools! We had barely swam halfway out to the pond’s center, freezing cold in that fall night, when the first sign arose that something was wrong. Will jerked underwater for a brief moment and came back up gasping, telling us he was now missing a sock. We figured he’d just caught his foot on some underwater branch. But Will wasn’t convinced, and he continued forward a little more slowly than before.

“It didn’t take long until Timothy went under, all at once, with barely a sound made. We saw bubbles rise sporadically from where he had submerged, then they just…stopped. Will and I didn’t say a word —  we just paddled as fast and as hard as any man had ever done. I don’t know when Will disappeared, he was just no longer there when I looked back. I made it to shore in a daze, falling onto the grass, gasping for air. I yelled for my friends, and I waited and waited, while the water just sat there in front of me, perfectly still.”

“The worst part is that I never even got a good look at it. I hope Will and Tim didn’t either, for their sake. I swore to myself to never again underestimate those dark waters, for in their depths lives a beast, a monster from the depths of hell itself, that goes by the name of Ol’ Sarge.” 

Finishing his drink in one swift gulp, he looks a bit unnerved, as if telling the story had brought back some of the fear of that night. 

“Oh, and the hook? It’s a Halloween prop, see? I’ve got a costume party to go to later tonight.” 

– Graddlesnake