Night of The Crabs — a short story for English reading and speaking

Laura Denham had never seen anything like it in all of her career.

As a marine biologist, she had photographed some of the most incredible sights anyone could wish to see in the oceans of the world.

But to see all of this on a beach in a small town in the south-west of England was something else.

At this time of year, the beach was usually filled with red-skinned tourists.

Now it was filled to capacity — with crabs.

And not just the usual kind of crabs that naturally lived in Cornwall.

These were huge things. She wasn’t even sure what species she was looking at.

All she could see so far were their huge glittering shells as they crawled over each other. Their great, thick legs clawing over each other to gain purchase.

And the claws.

As big as a man’s body. And strong enough to snap any of the tourists in half.

They had reached the promenade wall and could not get any further.

“So far, that is the only thing holding them back,” said the police officer to Laura. “There are the two pathways leading down to the beach, but we have successfully blocked those.”

He pointed to the pathways at either end of the promenade.

Big steel drums had been placed in the way.

Crabs clawed at the rows of drums but could not move them out of their way.

“We need to know what to do with them,” said the young cop. “That’s why we called you.”

Laura gazed out at the beach filled with crabs.

It was an incredible sight.

“I am not sure what species these crabs are,” she said. “But I think we can safely ascertain that they are not from here.”

“Just let us know what to do to get them back in the sea,” said the policeman.

A young man had climbed over the promenade railing, aiming for a close-up shot of the crabs. Their large claws reaching up to him from below.

The policeman jogged towards the guy and pulled him back. His two friends laughing and enjoying the show.

Laura pulled her camera up to her face and started to take pictures of the large crabs on the beach.

She was able to get a few close-up pictures using her zoom lens.

Back at the B&B, Laura wasted no time uploading the photos.

She sat in front of her computer, comparing her own pictures to pictures she found online.

The crabs on the beach resembled a species of crab from the Pacific Ocean. But what were they doing here? Cornwall was miles away from their home.

Why had they travelled all this way?

And the species she found online were all black. These crabs had reddish claws.

She flicked through website after website, crab database after database, but couldn’t find anything that exactly matched the crabs she saw on the beach.

Finally, she sent her pictures to someone she knew.

She hated asking for help. Pride told her she should identify the species herself.

She had always forced herself to work alone, determined to find answers using only her own research.

Laura had worked with Professor Edmund Price in Greece a few years back and since then they had been in regular contact. The professor’s expertise lay in crustaceans.

“I have been knee-deep in crabs most of my life,” he said.

It was true that there was very little he did not know about crabs.

She sent the email and then had dinner in the local area. She ate fish and chips alone.

In the small restaurant, she overheard some of the town residents talking about the huge crabs that had taken over the beach.

A combination of fascination and fear. Some wondering where they were from and how they got there. Others wondering what the police would do about it.

The owner of the fish and chip shop injected some humour by saying maybe he could cook up a load of crab and make a few quid out of it.

After a restless dinner, she felt compelled to see the beach again under cover of darkness.

Laura walked back along the seafront.

Police marked the territory. They didn’t allow anyone too close to the beach area.

Laura showed her card and was allowed to peer over the edge of the railing. In the darkness, the crabs had a far more sinister appearance.

The sound of claws scraping over shells. And the eerie hissing and clicking from their mouths.

Like they were waiting to enter the town itself.

Laura wandered back to the bed-and-breakfast. She watched TV for a little while — some late-night drama was on — but then she felt sleepy and went to bed.

She fell asleep almost immediately.

Her dreams were filled with strange luminous crab-like creatures, taking over a small town in the English countryside. Using their huge machine-like claws to rip cars in half.

After what felt like just a few minutes of sleep, Laura was awoken by the sound of her computer beeping.

It was the sound of an incoming email.

Laura knew she had work to do, and she dragged herself out of bed. She plugged the small kettle in to boil some water, while she went to the bathroom.

Outside, she could hear the sound of people calling out to each other. Their voices raised in alarm.

Word had clearly spread about the crabs. Now, people wanted a better view.

A police siren wailed down the street.

Laura poured herself a cup of instant coffee and sat down at the computer.

There was a narrow street just outside her window and she could hear the neighbours yelling at each other.

Then a scream — sharp, panicked. The street below erupted in chaos.

She clicked open the email window on her computer and saw a reply from Professor Price.

She read it once. Then again. The words didn’t make sense.

Laura blinked at the screen.

‘Extinct for over ten thousand years…’ the professor had written. ‘Toxic claws capable of killing sharks.’

Her eyes fell to the illustration. Red claws. Massive bodies. Exactly what she had seen on the beach.

Then came the unmistakable sound — the clatter of giant claws on stone.

A thud. Then another.

Laura rushed to the window.

And saw them.