The Neighbors Complained. The Police Responded. Igor Answered the Door.

Chapter One: Something Rotten Above the Village

For thirty-seven years, the villagers had regarded the abandoned castle on the mountain as a harmless local eyesore.

Its towers leaned at suspicious angles. Its windows were broken. Its iron gates had rusted shut. And the occasional scream drifting down from the battlements was generally attributed to foxes, owls, or the wind.

Nobody went near the place.

Then, several months earlier, things began changing.

The windows glowed at night.

Strange vehicles arrived after dark.

Enormous crates disappeared through the gates.

Thunderstorms seemed to gather over the castle even when the rest of the valley enjoyed clear skies.

And most recently, a brilliant green glow had begun pouring from the roof.

At precisely 2:17 on a Wednesday morning, Mrs. Gertrude Wimpleton decided she’d had enough.

She picked up her telephone.

“Police? I wish to report squatters in the old castle!”

The dispatcher sighed.

“What makes you believe there are squatters, madam?”

“Because there are PEOPLE IN IT!”

“Have you actually seen anyone?”

“YES! A hunchback carrying a glowing dinner plate, a man with hair like an electrocuted hedgehog, and a gigantic green fellow who waved at my grandson!”

“Perhaps they’re renovating.”

“At THREE IN THE MORNING?”

“Madam, people sometimes work unusual hours.”

“THEN EXPLAIN THE GREEN LIGHT COMING OUT OF THE ROOF!”

The dispatcher paused.

“Green light?”

“YES! THE WHOLE CASTLE LOOKS LIKE A RADIOACTIVE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

“Have you heard any disturbances?”

“DISTURBANCES? Last night the entire mountain shook, the church bells rang by themselves, and my husband’s dentures fell out!”

“Was anyone injured?”

“Only his pride!”

The dispatcher took a deep breath.

“I’ll send someone to investigate.”

“GOOD! AND TELL THEM TO BRING A BIG CAR!”

“Why?”

“BECAUSE ONE OF THE SQUATTERS IS EIGHT FEET TALL!”

---

Chapter Two: Inspector Graves Gets the Call

Inspector Arthur Graves had served the local police department for thirty-one years.

He had investigated burglaries, assaults, livestock thefts, missing persons, and one particularly unpleasant incident involving a drunken mayor and a stolen donkey.

He believed he’d seen everything.

He was wrong.

Graves was enjoying his first cup of coffee when his young partner, Constable Perkins, entered the station.

“Sir, we’ve had another complaint about the old castle.”

Graves lowered his newspaper.

“What now?”

“Suspicious occupants, excessive noise, and an unexplained green glow.”

“Sounds like somebody’s having a party.”

“Mrs. Wimpleton thinks they’re squatters.”

“She’s thought that castle was haunted since 1983.”

“Sir, she says one of the occupants is a giant green man.”

Graves considered this.

“Perkins, how long have you been on the force?”

“Six months, sir.”

“Then there’s something you should know.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Never believe anything Mrs. Wimpleton says before breakfast.”

“It’s three in the morning, sir.”

“Exactly.”

Perkins hesitated.

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“The electricity company reported unusual power consumption at that address.”

“How unusual?”

“Apparently, the castle used enough electricity last month to power half the district.”

Graves stared.

“An abandoned castle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Using electricity?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Half the district?”

“Yes, sir.”

Graves put down his coffee.

“Get the car.”

---

Chapter Three: Knock, Knock. Who’s There? The Police!

The two officers arrived at Castle IGORITHMS shortly before dawn.

The enormous Gothic structure loomed above them, its towers disappearing into swirling mist.

A faint green light pulsed behind the highest windows.

Somewhere inside, machinery hummed.

Then came an explosion.

A shower of sparks erupted from a chimney.

Perkins swallowed.

“Sir, are you sure we should go in?”

Graves adjusted his cap.

“Of course. We’re police officers.”

Another explosion shook the battlements.

“Although,” Graves added, “I may reconsider that statement.”

They approached the enormous wooden doors.

Graves hammered on the iron knocker.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“POLICE! OPEN UP!”

From inside came a muffled voice.

“Who ith it?”

“THE POLICE!”

“The polith?”

“YES!”

“Mathter! We have company!”

A distant voice thundered through the castle.

“WHO IS IT, IGOR?”

“The polith, Mathter!”

“WHAT DO THEY WANT?”

“They haven’t thaid!”

“THEN TELL THEM WE’RE CLOSED!”

Graves pounded again.

“OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY!”

Igor shouted back.

“Mathter! They thay we mutht open the door!”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! I’M CONDUCTING AN IMPORTANT EXPERIMENT!”

Graves stepped back.

“Perkins, prepare to force entry.”

Inside, Igor panicked.

“Mathter! They’re going to break down the door!”

“THEN TELL THEM TO USE THE SIDE ENTRANCE! THAT DOOR COST A FORTUNE!”

Igor hurriedly pulled a lever.

The enormous doors swung inward.

Unfortunately, he’d pulled the wrong lever.

A trapdoor opened beneath Constable Perkins.

He vanished.

“AAAAAAAH!”

A tremendous splash followed.

Graves stared at the empty space where his partner had been standing.

“GOOD GOD!”

Igor peered down.

“Oh, dear.”

Graves grabbed him by the collar.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY CONSTABLE?”

Igor smiled apologetically.

“Thorry, Offither. That’th the crocodile moat.”

Graves went white.

“THE WHAT?”

“Don’t worry! We haven’t got crocodileth yet!”

From below came Perkins’ furious voice.

“THEN WHAT JUST BIT MY BOOT?”

Igor thought for a moment.

“Perhapth the electric eelth.”

Graves closed his eyes.

He had three years until retirement.

Three very long years.

---

Chapter Four: A Question of Ownership

Twenty minutes later, Perkins had been rescued, dried off, and wrapped in an enormous laboratory towel bearing the words:

PROPERTY OF CASTLE IGORITHMS — DO NOT INCINERATE

Inspector Graves stood in the Great Hall facing Dr. Samuel Altmanstein.

“Your name?”

“DOCTOR SAMUEL ALTMANSTEIN!”

“Occupation?”

“GENIUS!”

Graves looked at Perkins.

“Write down scientist.”

“YES, INSPECTOR! BUT MAKE IT A CAPITAL S!”

“Doctor, we’re investigating reports that this abandoned property has been illegally occupied.”

“ABANDONED?”

“Yes.”

“ILLEGALLY OCCUPIED?”

“Yes.”

“MY DEAR INSPECTOR, I OWN THIS CASTLE!”

Graves raised an eyebrow.

“Do you have proof?”

“OF COURSE!”

“May I see it?”

“IGOR! FETCH THE PROPERTY DEEDS!”

“Yeth, Mathter!”

Igor hurried away.

He returned several minutes later carrying a shovel.

Altmanstein stared.

“IGOR! WHAT IS THAT?”

“A thovel, Mathter!”

“I ASKED FOR THE DEEDS!”

“Oh! I thought you thaid weeds!”

Graves rubbed his temples.

“Doctor, perhaps someone else handles your paperwork?”

At that moment, Abby Normal entered carrying a folder.

“I do, Inspector.”

Graves looked relieved.

Finally, a normal person.

Or so he thought.

“Madam, can you establish legal ownership of this property?”

“Certainly. Dr. Altmanstein purchased the castle several months ago.”

“Then why does the municipal register still list it as abandoned?”

“Because the municipal office rejected our change-of-occupancy paperwork.”

“Why?”

“They said the address didn’t exist.”

Graves stared at her.

“But we’re standing inside it!”

“That’s exactly what I told them.”

“And what did they say?”

“They suggested I submit a photograph.”

“So?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“They said it looked haunted.”

Graves slowly removed his spectacles.

“Good Lord.”

Abby opened the folder.

“Here are the purchase documents, payment receipts, and correspondence.”

Graves examined them.

Everything appeared legitimate.

Altmanstein folded his arms triumphantly.

“THERE! SATISFIED?”

“About ownership, perhaps.”

“EXCELLENT! THEN GET OUT!”

“Not so fast, Doctor. We still have several complaints to investigate.”

“COMPLAINTS?”

“Yes. Noise, suspicious lights, possible hazardous activity—”

“SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS, INSPECTOR!”

“—and an unexplained green glow coming from your roof.”

Altmanstein smiled.

“AH! MY ARTIFICIAL SUN!”

Graves stared.

“Your what?”

“MY ARTIFICIAL SUN!”

Perkins began writing furiously.

Graves glanced at his notebook.

“Constable, what are you writing?”

“Possible mental instability, sir.”

“Make that probable.”

---

Chapter Five: The €47,000 Question

Graves and Perkins followed Abby into the laboratory.

It was the most extraordinary room either officer had ever seen.

Enormous electrical coils lined the walls.

Strange machinery blinked and hummed.

A mechanical cabbage rotated slowly beneath a glass dome.

And on one table sat a machine bearing the label:

B.E.A.N.E.D.

BRAIN EXCHANGE AND NEUROTOXIN EXPERIMENTAL DOSAGE

Graves pointed at it.

“What is that?”

Altmanstein beamed.

“ONE OF MY GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS!”

“What does it do?”

“EXCHANGES BRAINS!”

Graves looked at Abby.

“Madam, are you being held here against your will?”

Abby considered the question.

“That’s becoming increasingly difficult to answer.”

Graves sighed.

“Let’s discuss the electricity.”

Abby produced a bill.

“Certainly, Inspector.”

Graves read it.

His eyes widened.

“FORTY-SEVEN THOUSAND EUROS?”

“That was last month’s bill.”

“FOR ONE MONTH?”

“Yes.”

“What are you running here? A steel mill?”

“A SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH INSTITUTE!” declared Altmanstein.

“What kind of research?”

“CLASSIFIED!”

“By whom?”

“ME!”

Graves stared.

“And the electric company didn’t question this consumption?”

Abby shook her head.

“Quite the opposite. They’ve been delighted.”

“Delighted?”

“We’re their largest customer in the region.”

Igor nodded enthusiastically.

“They thent uth a Chritthmath card!”

“And a refrigerator magnet,” Abby added.

Altmanstein slammed his fist onto the table.

“A DEFECTIVE REFRIGERATOR MAGNET!”

Graves looked confused.

“Defective?”

“IT DOESN’T STICK TO THE REFRIGERATOR!”

Abby sighed.

“Doctor, our refrigerator is stainless steel.”

“THEN THEY SHOULD HAVE SENT A STAINLESS-STEEL MAGNET!”

Graves turned to Perkins.

“Call the electric company.”

The constable dialed.

Several minutes later, Graves took the telephone.

“This is Inspector Graves. I’m investigating an electricity account associated with the old castle.”

A cheerful voice answered.

“Oh, Castle IGORITHMS! Wonderful customers!”

“You’re familiar with them?”

“Of course! Our biggest account!”

“And you didn’t find their electricity consumption suspicious?”

“Suspicious? Inspector, those people practically paid for our managing director’s new yacht!”

Graves closed his eyes.

“Good Lord.”

“We were thinking of sending them a fruit basket.”

Graves hung up.

“Doctor, I’m beginning to understand why the neighbors called.”

---

Chapter Six: Remove Your Mask, Sir

As the investigation continued, a large shadow appeared in the laboratory doorway.

Constable Perkins turned.

And screamed.

Standing before him was MONSTER 1.0.

Eight feet tall.

Green-skinned.

Enormous hands.

Heavy boots.

And a plate of chocolate-chip cookies.

“MONSTER SAY HELLO.”

Perkins stumbled backward.

“INSPECTOR!”

Graves turned.

He stared at MONSTER.

MONSTER stared back.

Graves cleared his throat.

“Very impressive costume, sir.”

“MONSTER NOT COSTUME.”

“Right. Very funny. Halloween isn’t for another few days, though.”

“MONSTER NOT HALLOWEEN.”

Graves stepped closer.

“Would you mind removing your mask?”

MONSTER blinked.

“MONSTER NOT WEAR MASK.”

“Sir, I’m asking politely.”

MONSTER reached up and tugged at his own cheek.

“FACE STUCK.”

Perkins whispered, “Sir, I don’t think that’s a costume.”

“Nonsense, Constable.”

MONSTER held out the plate.

“POLICE WANT COOKIE?”

Graves hesitated.

Then took one.

“Thank you.”

MONSTER smiled.

“MONSTER LIKE POLICE.”

Graves took a bite.

“These are rather good.”

“ABBY MAKE.”

Graves turned toward Abby.

“Madam, who exactly is this gentleman?”

“MONSTER 1.0.”

“His legal name?”

“That’s what we call him.”

“His surname?”

“We haven’t given him one.”

“His date of birth?”

Altmanstein interrupted.

“THE DATE OF HIS CREATION!”

Graves stared.

“Creation?”

“YES! I BUILT HIM!”

Graves slowly lowered his notebook.

“Doctor, are you telling me this enormous gentleman was manufactured in your laboratory?”

“PRECISELY!”

Graves looked at MONSTER.

MONSTER waved.

“MONSTER WANT MORE COOKIE.”

Graves turned to Perkins.

“Constable, add possible human experimentation to the report.”

Altmanstein exploded.

“POSSIBLE? INSPECTOR, I INSIST YOU WRITE DOWN SUCCESSFUL!”

---

Chapter Seven: The Inspector Meets the Artificial Sun

“Now,” Graves announced, “I want to see the source of this green glow.”

Altmanstein straightened proudly.

“WITH PLEASURE!”

They climbed the spiral staircase toward the castle’s upper laboratory.

As they ascended, the air grew warmer.

Then hotter.

Then considerably hotter.

Graves loosened his collar.

“Doctor, why is it so warm in here?”

“SOLAR ENERGY!”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“PRECISELY WHY I INVENTED MY OWN SUN!”

They reached the upper chamber.

In the center stood an enormous glowing sphere surrounded by machinery.

It radiated an eerie greenish-yellow light.

The stone walls shimmered with heat.

A palm tree was growing out of a flowerpot.

Igor had placed two deck chairs beside the machine.

Graves stared.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS THAT?”

“MY ARTIFICIAL SUN!”

“You’ve built a sun?”

“A MINIATURE ONE!”

“In your castle?”

“WHERE ELSE WOULD I BUILD IT?”

Perkins wiped sweat from his forehead.

“Sir, I think my eyebrows are curling.”

Igor smiled.

“Would you like thome thunthcreen, Offither?”

Graves pointed at the glowing sphere.

“Doctor, that thing is illuminating the entire valley!”

“MAGNIFICENT, ISN’T IT?”

“The villagers think the castle is radioactive!”

“TECHNICALLY—”

“DOCTOR!”

“—THEY’RE BEING UNNECESSARILY ALARMIST!”

Abby stepped forward.

“Inspector, I’ve been trying to convince him to shut it down.”

“Then shut it down!”

Altmanstein gasped.

“SHUT DOWN THE SUN?”

“YES!”

“INSPECTOR, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF THE REAL SUN SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED?”

Graves stared.

“Doctor, this is not the real sun!”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES MINE SUPERIOR! IT’S PORTABLE!”

At that moment, Skankella entered wearing sunglasses and carrying a beach towel.

“Samuel, darling, when are you installing the swimming pool?”

Graves turned toward her.

“Madam, who are you?”

“Skankella.”

“Your surname?”

“Just Skankella, darling.”

“And what are you doing here?”

“Sunbathing.”

“At four in the morning?”

“Obviously. There’s less competition for the deck chairs.”

Graves looked at Perkins.

Perkins looked at Graves.

Neither spoke.

Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

Graves wished he’d become a postman.

---

Chapter Eight: The Case of the Missing Deeds

Back in the Great Hall, Graves announced his findings.

“Doctor, your property ownership appears legitimate. However, the noise disturbances and hazardous conditions are another matter.”

Altmanstein folded his arms.

“SCIENTIFIC PERSECUTION!”

“I’ll also need to verify the original property deeds.”

Abby frowned.

“The originals should be in the archive.”

“Should be?”

“Yes.”

Altmanstein turned toward Igor.

“IGOR! WHERE ARE THE DEEDS?”

Igor looked thoughtful.

“The deedth, Mathter?”

“YES!”

“The old parchment papert h?”

“YES!”

“With the fancy theal?”

“YES!”

Igor smiled.

“Oh! I know where thothe are!”

“EXCELLENT!”

“I put them in Mr. Whithkerth’ litter box.”

Silence.

Graves stared.

Abby stared.

Altmanstein stared.

“YOU DID WHAT?”

Igor shuffled his feet.

“The cat needed clean paper, Mathter.”

“YOU USED THE PROPERTY DEEDS TO LINE THE CAT’S LITTER BOX?”

“Yeth, Mathter. But only the old oneth.”

Altmanstein made a strangled noise.

Abby covered her face.

Graves slowly sat down.

“Constable,” he whispered, “I need another coffee.”

Perkins nodded.

“Strong, sir?”

“Industrial strength.”

Igor brightened.

“Mathter hath a machine that maketh coffee with lightning!”

“NO!” shouted everyone.

---

Chapter Nine: Just One More Thing

With the original deeds apparently destroyed, Graves prepared to contact the municipal authorities for further verification.

Altmanstein was furious.

Abby was exhausted.

Igor was apologizing to Mr. Whiskers.

MONSTER 1.0 sat quietly beside the fireplace, eating cookies.

Graves paced.

“I can’t conclude this investigation without proper documentation.”

“BUT YOU’VE SEEN THE PURCHASE CONTRACT!” roared Altmanstein.

“And I’ll verify it, Doctor. But until then—”

“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!”

MONSTER looked toward an old wooden cabinet beside the fireplace.

One of its drawers was slightly open.

Inside, beneath a pile of yellowed scientific diagrams, lay a thick parchment envelope.

MONSTER set down his cookie.

He stood.

Walked to the cabinet.

Opened the drawer.

And removed the envelope.

He examined the wax seal.

Then glanced toward the arguing adults.

Nobody was watching.

MONSTER quietly placed the envelope on the table beside Inspector Graves’ notebook.

He returned to his chair.

Picked up his cookie.

And resumed eating.

A moment later, Graves reached for his notebook.

He noticed the envelope.

“What’s this?”

Abby turned.

“What?”

“This document.”

She opened it.

Her eyes widened.

“Doctor! These are the original property deeds!”

Altmanstein snatched them.

“HA! I TOLD YOU I OWNED THIS CASTLE!”

Graves examined the seal.

The signatures.

The registration numbers.

Everything was in order.

“Well,” he admitted, “that settles the ownership question.”

Altmanstein puffed out his chest.

“AS I HAVE BEEN SAYING ALL ALONG!”

Abby looked puzzled.

“I could have sworn those were in the archive.”

Igor shrugged.

“Maybe Mr. Whithkerth didn’t like the paper.”

MONSTER smiled at his cookie.

Nobody noticed.

---

Chapter Ten: Three Weeks Until Retirement

By sunrise, Inspector Graves had completed his investigation.

The castle was legally occupied.

The electricity account was legitimate.

The Doctor’s experiments were another matter entirely, and Graves had compiled a substantial list of concerns for the appropriate authorities.

But the immediate suspicion of squatters had been resolved.

Graves stood at the front door.

“Doctor, I strongly recommend you reduce the noise and shut down that artificial sun.”

“INSPECTOR, YOU ARE STANDING IN THE PRESENCE OF SCIENTIFIC GREATNESS!”

“I’m standing in the presence of a headache.”

Abby shook his hand.

“Thank you for your patience, Inspector.”

“Madam, I suspect you deserve a medal.”

Igor waved enthusiastically.

“Come back any time, Offither!”

Graves froze.

“I sincerely hope that won’t be necessary.”

MONSTER 1.0 appeared behind Igor.

“POLICE WANT COOKIE FOR ROAD?”

Graves hesitated.

Then accepted two.

“Thank you, MONSTER.”

“MONSTER LIKE POLICE.”

Graves smiled despite himself.

“Well, at least someone here does.”

He climbed into the patrol car.

Perkins started the engine.

For several seconds, neither officer spoke.

Then Perkins glanced at his superior.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Constable?”

“Do you think that giant green fellow was really a monster?”

Graves stared straight ahead.

“Perkins, I have spent thirty-one years in law enforcement.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ve dealt with murderers, thieves, smugglers, and politicians.”

“Yes, sir?”

“And I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“That green fellow was the most normal person in the entire building.”

Perkins nodded.

“Shall we go back to the station?”

“Please.”

They drove through the iron gates.

Behind them, the castle’s upper tower suddenly flashed bright green.

A thunderous explosion shook the mountain.

The patrol car’s rearview mirror fell off.

Perkins slammed on the brakes.

“INSPECTOR!”

Graves closed his eyes.

“Keep driving.”

“But sir! The castle!”

“KEEP DRIVING!”

“Shouldn’t we investigate?”

Graves opened one eye.

“Perkins, I have three years until retirement.”

“Yes, sir?”

“If that castle explodes, catches fire, floats into space, or grows legs and walks into the village, I want you to remember something.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“WE WERE NEVER HERE.”

---

Epilogue: Another Call from the Castle

Back at the police station, Inspector Graves finally sat down with a fresh cup of coffee.

He removed his cap.

Loosened his collar.

And began writing his report.

Incident: Suspected illegal occupation of abandoned property.

Finding: Property legally occupied.

Additional observations: Unexplained scientific equipment, excessive electrical consumption, unusual biological specimen, possible hazardous energy source, questionable laboratory practices.

Recommendation: Further inspection by qualified authorities.

He paused.

Then added:

Personal recommendation: Transfer to traffic duty.

The telephone rang.

Graves sighed.

“Graves speaking.”

“Inspector, this is dispatch.”

“What now?”

“We’ve received another complaint from the village.”

“About what?”

“The moon, sir.”

Graves stared at the wall.

“The moon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about it?”

“Apparently, it’s turned green.”

Graves slowly lowered the telephone.

Perkins looked up.

“Sir?”

Graves took a long breath.

“Tell them to call NASA.”

A pause.

Then the dispatcher’s voice returned.

“Inspector?”

“What?”

“NASA just called us.”

Graves put his head on the desk.

And somewhere high above the village, inside Castle IGORITHMS, Dr. Samuel Altmanstein was making an important announcement.

“IGOR! I HAVE SOLVED THE PROBLEM OF THE ELECTRICITY BILL!”

“Wonderful, Mathter! How?”

“WE SHALL HARNESS THE GRAVITATIONAL ENERGY OF THE MOON!”

“Yeth, Mathter!”

“AND WE SHALL BEGIN IMMEDIATELY!”

Igor thought for a moment.

“Mathter?”

“WHAT?”

“Do we need to athk the moon for permithion?”

Altmanstein threw up his hands.

“IGOR! DON’T BE RIDICULOUS!”

Meanwhile, MONSTER 1.0 sat beside Abby in the kitchen.

She handed him another cookie.

“It’s been quite a night, hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

MONSTER nodded.

“MONSTER LIKE POLICE.”

Abby smiled.

“So do I. Especially when they leave.”

MONSTER took a bite.

And for the briefest moment, his eyes drifted toward the laboratory.

Where the Doctor was already preparing his next catastrophe.

At Castle IGORITHMS, the police may close a case. But the madness never closes.

Intelligence Not Guaranteed.

---

---

---

---