"Claws, ye say. I be tellin' ye that fish people have no claws t'speak of an' this be the truth. So, if claws it be then somethin' clawed must 'ave been the death o' that traveller, whate'er 'is name were. An' claws is somethin' that beasts o'the night are well known to 'ave. So if it be claws and eatin' o' flesh I reckons we be stalked by a creature I 'eard tell o' in me time in the Americas. Wendigo, they called it. Part man, part demon, all terrifin' bad news!"
Captain Storm shivers, like someone just walked over his grave.
"An' if in declarin' that this Wendigo be among us I die then know this: Wendigo takes o'er a man and make 'im a monster and that monster could be right 'ere and we'd not know 'im from Adam. I'm watchin' fer ye, Wendigo. Watchin' an' waitin' and ready to beat ye wi' this 'ere cutlass."
He rattles his cutlass, likely rusted into its scabbard, and his eyes mist over with memory.
Suddenly, he blurts, "A strike, quick an' true, is what we need to save ourselves from the perils of Wendigo! Strike down the man, strike down the demon! I cannot say I know which one of ye is the demon, but seems to me that an undertaker is as like as not to be in thrall of demonspawn. Dr. Agon, I call ye a monster and demand ye prepare yerself!"