The Black Lake

in #writing7 years ago (edited)

firehole-lake-871616_640.jpg

Through the trees, I beheld it. The Black Lake was just ahead, and atop a tall tower erected at its edge stood the Witness. His long coat and large brimmed hat gave him an unmistakable appearance. He saw me, as he saw all things. He did not look directly at me, as he did not look directly at the lake, or any one stone on the ground. One could not be noticed by the Witness. One could not escape his notice.

I had sought this place as a final act of desperation, as the only reason anyone sane would seek it. A full week had passed since everyone I knew ceased to be. They hadn't died, or traveled away, they had ceased in any physical sense. More than that, they now never existed at all. There were no homes where there were once homes. Their voices, how they looked, how they lived, their personalities were confined to my mind. I no longer knew for certain if what I thought happened actually had, or if I had gone mad.

For these past nights, I dreamed of the Black Lake. It was in my dreams that I learned its location, and learned of the Witness. I made my way past the trees, and approached the water. It was only when I stepped closer, that I realized the water was not black at all, but the clearest I had ever seen. The lake was filled with black snakes. It was more snake than water. They crawled atop one another, intertwined with one another, but not one leaving the water. I knew the answer I was searching for was in this lake.

I stepped one foot into the water, then another. I could not feel the snakes against my skin. I took one step backward, noticing in the corner of my eye a lone snake emerging from the water. As I took another step forward, the snake continued forward. When I took a step back, the snake went backward back into the water. I knew I must press on, and with all the courage I could muster, I went several more steps in. I wanted to see where the snake had gone, but found myself frozen in place. I could not turn. I was panicked. Terror overcame me and I wanted more than anything to escape. I sank deeper down, and deeper still until I was nearly submerged. In that final moment, the Witness snapped his attention to me. He spoke. At last I knew the truth.

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If I'd noticed the horror tag, I'd not have read it. The writing is very powerful. But I dislike the lack of resolution in the ending. Sorry. It's my nature to be honest. It may just be because it's a genre thingie and since I avoid horror, I don't "get" it.

Nothing to apologize for. I actually agree with you. I don't really read horror and I've never written it. I wanted to stay out of my comfort zone a little bit longer and try a few more new things, as a "just to see if I can" sort of experiment. I've noticed a lot of horror endings tend to leave you with negative feelings, a feeling of bitterness or loss, or frustration over a lack of real resolution. It was actually hard for me not to elaborate on the ending. I wrote out what he actually said to her several times before ultimately deleting it. This story was also based off of a dream a friend of mine told me about having, and I ultimately concluded that being cut off just before you get the clear answer felt very dream-like. Another "deleted" alternative ending was going to be her simply failing to hear what he said before drowning. Maybe that would've been more fitting to a true horror style. Maybe a horror fan could set me straight on this.

I'm glad you accidentally read it and commented though. You helped clarify something I was already feeling.

I really like the hook of the first paragraph!

I like your story. It has the bare bones of a psychological mystery. The ending actually works for me. At last I knew the truth - to me that is resolution. But then these are the sort of stories I tend gravitate to.

Glad you liked it. Thanks for taking the time to read it.

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