The swamp was Bdubs’ home. Most of his kind preferring the open ocean or sea, the prime place to find their prey: sailors. But Bdubs’ always found the moor more enticing… there was something eerily alluring about the bayou which no man could resist. Like a crocodile, Bdubs’ kept his mouth underneath the swamp’s waterlevel as he lurked. Glowing, yellow pupils peered out from the darkness, piercing the fog’s veil was he searched for his next target, camouflaged in the reeds and milkweeds.