Detective Wolf and the Flatwoods Fighter

The catfish sped over to the painting, making a cone-like pattern as it did so. Wolf focused. He had to make the shot. As dust and debris was kicked up from the bottom of the bog, hiding the creature's appearance. Wolf swam in front of the painting. Dust filled the area. Wolf aimed the speargun, and squeezed the trigger. He felt the spear fire from the gun, and not a moment later, he felt something crash into his stomach. He felt his ribs fracture as he was sent spinning back. Through dazed eyes he saw the catfish, a mere inch away from the painting. They locked eyes. Then, the creature turned on its side, as its intestines spooled out, making a red haze around its form. As the corpse floated to the surface,and broke apart, Wolf realized what had happened. He struck the beast through its cheek, and the spear went straight through, ripping it in half like a folded tortilla filled with pasta sauce, and feces, as the catfish released it bowels upon death. He turned to the boat up ahead. Another corpse swayed near the dead catfish. It was the bloated body of the sailor. His stomach was peppered with bullet holes. The roar of the boat's engine started. Wolf cursed to himself. The culprit was about to leave. He could try to follow him but he'd be at a huge speed disadvantage, or he could look to get the painting, though that could leave him vulnerable to other marine life