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Description
A Lonely Spot

The car was parked far behind them along the country road and the two men hoped it wouldn't get crushed by a coal or logging truck.

"How'd you ever find this place?" The hidden road was a ruination of cracks under Mike's boots. Dave didn't answer as he gazed across the lake to inspect the trees; what foliage remained shone in the muted reds and yellows of the fall season. Leaves crunched underfoot as they each found a comfortable spot from which to cast their line.

"This area always looks so dead to me."

"This ain't dead." Dave grinned and cocked a thumb towards the decrepit gravestones that seemed to march down into the lake. "That's dead."

"What possessed you to ever come down here in the first place?"

Dave shrugged.

"I'm very curious by nature."

"But how did you find it?"

"I saw the break in the trees past the guardrail and decided to check it out."

"But there's no sign or anything along the main road."

"Nope." Dave drew back his rod to cast. Mike watched his friend's lure sail through the air and strike the surface of the black water. Meager ripples spread outward from that point.

"Why would it be blocked off?"

"Dunno." Dave sat back, satisfied with his cast. "There used to be a town."

"Right here?"

"No, just some tarpaper cabins up in the valley. A few families and a trading post… we're talking about eighty years ago or so."

"What a place to live." Mike shivered. "Middle of nowhere."

"They were farmers, I suppose. Some folk like privacy."

"Any of them still around?"

"No one lives near here anymore and this," he pointed to the gravestones beside and beneath the water, "was their cemetery."

"And they let it get flooded?"

"Not their idea. The lake is only here because of the dam."

"I knew that." Mike lifted his pole and brought it back, mindful of the low branches. He cast, but failed to release the line in time and the lure hit the water pitifully close and with a slap that echoed back to them from the opposite bank.

"Hey! Give me a chance to work my magic before you scare the fish away."

"Sorry." Mike scowled more at his own clumsiness than Dave's chiding. The ripples on the water were aggressive; both men both watched the pattern until Dave stood up.

"I'm gonna get the coffee."

"Need the light?"

"I'm good. Don't go anywhere."

"Very funny." Mike felt better about his own mistake and he watched Dave vanish into the darkness.

The sky was as black as the water now and Mike felt a chill in his bones that had crept up suddenly. He huddled within his quilted jacket for warmth. He could use some of that hot coffee and made ready to cast out his line again, but then he noticed the ripples still lapping the mud near his feet. Surely they would have died down by now. He couldn't have disturbed the water that much, even from such a bad cast.

Mike was still examining the ripples when he realized that something had risen from the water in front of him and blocked the sky.

Mike was nowhere to be seen when Dave returned with the coffee.

His first guess was that his friend had felt the call of nature, but then Dave noticed Mike's pole on the ground, half buried in mud up to the reel. More puzzled than concerned, he reached down to tug it loose when the bank lurched under his feet and the water parted to expose a massive… something.

It flowed upwards until the shapeless mass was taller than a man. It was luminescent and it stank and pulsed wetly like a monstrous jellyfish. Darkness robbed the nameless horror of detail until Dave stumbled back and the lantern gave it stark definition: an unspeakable mass of mud and slime jammed together with ribcages, thighbones, tibias and femurs. Roots and dead algae and shreds of cloth held the translucent form together and skulls ignored Dave's plight in their sightlessness. There were very few whole skeletons; just pieces floating in a ghastly jumble, but when the hideous thing canted to one side, Dave noticed one particular body, almost intact, just inside the membranous surface. The color of Mike's quilted jacket was horribly obvious by the glow of the lantern.

When it surged towards him, Dave found the breath for only one scream.

The End

Description
A Lonely Spot

The car was parked far behind them along the country road and the two men hoped it wouldn't get crushed by a coal or logging truck.

"How'd you ever find this place?" The hidden road was a ruination of cracks under Mike's boots. Dave didn't answer as he gazed across the lake to inspect the trees; what foliage remained shone in the muted reds and yellows of the fall season. Leaves crunched underfoot as they each found a comfortable spot from which to cast their line.

"This area always looks so dead to me."

"This ain't dead." Dave grinned and cocked a thumb towards the decrepit gravestones that seemed to march down into the lake. "That's dead."

"What possessed you to ever come down here in the first place?"

Dave shrugged.

"I'm very curious by nature."

"But how did you find it?"

"I saw the break in the trees past the guardrail and decided to check it out."

"But there's no sign or anything along the main road."

"Nope." Dave drew back his rod to cast. Mike watched his friend's lure sail through the air and strike the surface of the black water. Meager ripples spread outward from that point.

"Why would it be blocked off?"

"Dunno." Dave sat back, satisfied with his cast. "There used to be a town."

"Right here?"

"No, just some tarpaper cabins up in the valley. A few families and a trading post… we're talking about eighty years ago or so."

"What a place to live." Mike shivered. "Middle of nowhere."

"They were farmers, I suppose. Some folk like privacy."

"Any of them still around?"

"No one lives near here anymore and this," he pointed to the gravestones beside and beneath the water, "was their cemetery."

"And they let it get flooded?"

"Not their idea. The lake is only here because of the dam."

"I knew that." Mike lifted his pole and brought it back, mindful of the low branches. He cast, but failed to release the line in time and the lure hit the water pitifully close and with a slap that echoed back to them from the opposite bank.

"Hey! Give me a chance to work my magic before you scare the fish away."

"Sorry." Mike scowled more at his own clumsiness than Dave's chiding. The ripples on the water were aggressive; both men both watched the pattern until Dave stood up.

"I'm gonna get the coffee."

"Need the light?"

"I'm good. Don't go anywhere."

"Very funny." Mike felt better about his own mistake and he watched Dave vanish into the darkness.

The sky was as black as the water now and Mike felt a chill in his bones that had crept up suddenly. He huddled within his quilted jacket for warmth. He could use some of that hot coffee and made ready to cast out his line again, but then he noticed the ripples still lapping the mud near his feet. Surely they would have died down by now. He couldn't have disturbed the water that much, even from such a bad cast.

Mike was still examining the ripples when he realized that something had risen from the water in front of him and blocked the sky.

Mike was nowhere to be seen when Dave returned with the coffee.

His first guess was that his friend had felt the call of nature, but then Dave noticed Mike's pole on the ground, half buried in mud up to the reel. More puzzled than concerned, he reached down to tug it loose when the bank lurched under his feet and the water parted to expose a massive… something.

It flowed upwards until the shapeless mass was taller than a man. It was luminescent and it stank and pulsed wetly like a monstrous jellyfish. Darkness robbed the nameless horror of detail until Dave stumbled back and the lantern gave it stark definition: an unspeakable mass of mud and slime jammed together with ribcages, thighbones, tibias and femurs. Roots and dead algae and shreds of cloth held the translucent form together and skulls ignored Dave's plight in their sightlessness. There were very few whole skeletons; just pieces floating in a ghastly jumble, but when the hideous thing canted to one side, Dave noticed one particular body, almost intact, just inside the membranous surface. The color of Mike's quilted jacket was horribly obvious by the glow of the lantern.

When it surged towards him, Dave found the breath for only one scream.

The End