The Black Lake: Tales of Melancholic Horror (10 page)

***

Anna strolled down the unusually eerie hall. The melancholic shadows danced in every dim corner, surrounding her timorous body with a funereal ambiance. The stairs creaked with each meticulous step as Anna delved into the living room. She stopped and listened to her parents as they stood by the console table near the front door.

With the phone planted on his rosy ear, Charles said, “I'm telling you, it was an accident. I pushed him, but he shouldn't have been there. I didn't mean to hurt him.” He paused and nodded as he seemingly listened. Charles continued, “I checked up on him... he's not looking good. I mean, he fell on his back from the second story for crying out loud. He's bleeding out, coughing up blood and everything. Probably a broken spine or something. I don't know. Just send an ambulance and a detective or whoever. Just,
please,
send someone.”

Karen whispered, “I can't believe this is happening. We should of let him in...”

Anna raised her shoulders and tiptoed through the archway to her left, quietly slipping into the kitchen without alarming her parents. Her bare toes wiggled and wormed from the frigid linoleum flooring. She persevered through the chilly cold and opened the back door. She scrunched her face as the door squealed like a pig in mud. Anna held her breath and bit her bottom lip. To her utter surprise, her parents were unaware – her father was still talking on the phone and she could still hear her mother's sobbing.

Anna whispered, “That was close...”

The moist grass tickled her feet and the cool breeze caressed her body as Anna walked through the backyard. Her grubby feet sank into the moist grass with each plodding step. She slowly approached the body on the floor. The diabolical silhouette was not a monster of the night – he was a mere man cloaked by the forbidding darkness.

The young man stood six-one with a slim physique. He wore a black hooded sweatshirt, begrimed black jeans, and dilapidated black-and-white sneakers. His buzz cut hairdo was apparent from the crack in his hood. From his visible face, Anna could see a contrasting scar under his right eye – a slice from his cheek to his jaw. The man looked starved and ill, like if he had been to hell and back.

Anna asked, “Are you the bogeyman?”

The man grunted and groaned from the insufferable pain striking his back. He squirmed on the moist grass like a worm in dirt. Yet, he couldn't help but chuckle from Anna's innocent question. He shook his head, then coughed. Blood spurted from his mouth, trickling down his lip and spattering on his cheeks.

As he cleared his throat, the man responded, “N–No... I–I–I protect... I protect you from the bogey–bogeyman.”

Anna knelt in front of the injured man and furrowed her brow as she inspected him. Anna asked, “Really?” With veins bulging from his throat and brow, the man nodded. Anna tilted her head and inquired, “Who are you? What's your name?”

“Ju–Junior. My name... My name is Junior.”

Anna smiled and extended her arm for a handshake. She said, “My name is Anna. It's very nice to meet you, Junior.”

Junior struggled to lift his arm to grab Anna's tiny hand. His body shuddered from the agony. He dropped his arm to his side and simply smiled as he gazed into Anna's eyes. Her innocence was inexplicably reassuring. Her genial welcome was appreciated.

Anna pouted as she lowered her arm and said, “I'm sorry. This is all my fault. If I didn't scream, you wouldn't be hurt. Daddy wouldn't have done all of this if I didn't scream. I'm sorry, Junior. I didn't know you were here to help. I really didn't know.”

Junior chuckled, then responded, “Don't... Don't worry about it, kiddo. Your daddy and I have a long history. A history of... of fighting. Some of it was my fault, some was his. It's... It's not your fault. It's never your fault.”

As she sniffled from the sadness and cold, Anna asked, “Why do you protect me?” Junior's head swayed as he dozed in-and-out of consciousness. Anna placed her tiny hands on his chest and gently shoved him, then said, “Junior... Junior...”

Junior's eyelids fluttered as he grappled with death. He stared at Anna and explained, “I have to... I have to protect you. It's my... It's my responsibility, no matter what. It's something people like me have to do.” He chuckled, then said, “Don't call me 'Junior' anymore, kiddo. Forget about that. Just call me... Just call me
brother.
”

Junior gazed at the hypnotizing moon as he panted. The moonlight dawned onto him like a beam of light from Heaven. His breathing was fast and irregular. He could feel his palpitating heartbeat pulsating through every limb. His eyesight slowly diminished, blurring and darkening with each passing second. Death was approaching to collect his soul.

Junior whispered, “Just call me
brother
...”

With one last exhale, Junior's head swayed to the side. His breathing abruptly stopped. He had passed away with his eyes wide open. Anna's teeth chattered as she gazed into Junior's bloodshot eyes. His glistering brown eyes were familiar. She recognized them as a reflection of her own.

Anna stood and stared at the strange prowler. Her mind raced with uncertain thoughts like never before. As a young child, she had never faced such a shocking revelation. As she contemplated his role in her life and his unfortunate death, Anna knelt down and planted a soft kiss on Junior's damp and bloodied forehead.

She stared into his somber, dead eyes, and whispered, “I'm sorry. Thank you, brother...”

The sand scattered across the barren desert land, pummeling the makeshift shed with the granular dirt. The flimsy door rattled in the doorway with the brutish gale from the sandstorm. The wind whooshed and howled over the grating with each powerful gust. Simon sat at the farthest wall from the door in the compact shed. He gazed at the slit of balmy sunlight seeping through the dilapidated wall.

Simon whispered, “I could end it. I could end all of my misery now.” He looked towards the top of the adjacent wall and said, “The sun is my enemy, but it may be my greatest ally. I could end it all with the sun...”

Simon protruded his bare hand into the sunshine. He watched as his skin gradually reddened. He could feel his blood boiling in his palm, like if his hand were directly above a searing flame. He grimaced as he endured the unfathomable pain. Yet, the physical pain couldn't match the emotional torment.

Simon whispered, “But, I won't... I won't end it now.”

He gritted his teeth, then pulled his wounded hand towards his stomach. He wheezed as he despondently stared down at himself. Simon stood five-eleven with a slim figure. A web of thick veins bulged on his forearms and his brow. His eyes were black, like chasms of sinister darkness. He wore a white t-shirt with holes punctured throughout, dusty blue jeans, and begrimed black boots. His black hair was buzz cut.

With dejected eyes, Simon stared at his damaged hand as it miraculously regenerated. The scorched, crimson skin whitened before his very eyes. The insufferable pain dwindled with the transformation. He was not awed by the change – it was nothing new.

Simon said, “I can't die like this, I can't die now. There has to be something out there for me, there has to be someone out there for me. I can't die here. I will
not
die here.”

He planted his ovoid dome on the brick wall behind him and gazed at the penetrating sunlight. The blistering heat of the golden sunshine dwindled as time passed – minutes turned into hours with each blink. As dusk approached, Simon stood from his makeshift seat and padded the clinging dirt from his clothing.

“It's time for another night,” Simon murmured. “I need to hear someone's voice other than my own. I have to find civilization. I must eat something soon...”

Suddenly, a booming cracking sound pierced into the shed. Simon's eyes widened as he turned towards the door. The L-end of a rusty crowbar punctured the sealed door at the knob. As the crowbar settled on the entrance, Simon bolted towards the darkest corner of the room. With one mighty tug, the door snapped open. The twilight sunshine poured into the grimy shed, burning the shadows away with light.

From the darkest corner, Simon shouted, “Don't break anything else! Please!”

Simon covered his face with his hands and squatted in the corner – a precautionary measure. He glanced towards the breached door through the slits in his fingers. An inquisitive woman and a merciful man stood at the doorway with furrowed brows. Simon's erratic behavior was blatantly unexpected.

The man said, “Listen, we're just looking for shelter. We don't want any trouble, we're not going to rob you.”

Simon lowered his hands as he examined his uninvited visitors. Both carried blue bags with several compartments on their weary shoulders. The man stood five-nine with a gentle demeanor. He had light blonde hair, bright like the sun during a cloudless day. His crystal blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in the snow. He wore a short-sleeve button-up shirt opened down the center, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. His khaki pants and his brown hiking boots were filthy. Simon did not respond to the man's message – he could not decipher the sincerity of his words. Trust was a notion of the past.

The woman stepped forward and said, “We're not going to hurt you, I promise.”

The woman stood five-two. She had a slim body with wide hips and broad shoulders – curves at every corner like Lombard Street. Her beach blonde hair was tied in a tousled bun, the strands protruded every which way from the wind and the haste. Her blue eyes twinkled like stars at night.

She donned a matching blue flannel shirt opened down the center, revealing a white tank-top underneath. Her denim shorts sat at her thighs, leaving her unclad legs vulnerable. Like her male companion, she donned brown hiking boots. Simon was immediately struck by her beauty – her elegance shined through the soot and disaster.

Simon asked, “What do you want? Who are you people?”

The man stepped forward and responded, “My name is Aaron Horn.” He pointed at his partner and continued, “This is Brenda Hoover. She's my girlfriend. We're just looking for shelter. We're harmless, really.”

“
Girlfriend?
” Simon murmured in a dubious tone with downcast eyes. He glanced back at the couple and said, “Well, my name is Simon. It's... It's nice to meet you. This was only a temporary home. I'll be out of your hair soon.”

Brenda asked, “You're leaving? Why?” As Simon fidgeted in the corner, Brenda scanned the room to no avail. She continued, “You don't have any supplies. How are you going to survive out there at night? You'll
freeze.
”

Simon sniffled and shook his head as he responded, “No, no. Actually, it's best to travel at night. It's cold, sure, but no one else is traveling, so there's less trouble. And, you know, whatever plague killed off the people, it's not as potent at night.”

Aaron waved his hands and said, “Wait a second. How would you know that?”

“It's obvious, isn't it? The people in those hot, tropical locations died off first. As the climate changed, everyone started to die. The heat killed us. You've heard the rumors, right? You can buy time in Alaska. It's still cold there. I know you've heard them before.”

Brenda scratched the back of her head and said, “Well, we've been traveling for a few hours. Maybe we can shift our schedule and start traveling at night...”

Aaron glared at Brenda, then leaned towards her ear. He whispered, “Don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

Brenda whispered, “I think he does. He's right about those rumors and he isn't dead like the rest of them. Let's be honest, we don't know what we're really doing out here. This...
This
is at least worth a shot...”

“It's certainly worth a shot,” Simon interrupted from afar. “If you'd allow me to join and perhaps advise you, I think we should begin tonight. There's a gas station a few miles up the road. The sun is already going down. We should begin our trek now.”

Brenda nodded in agreement as she tossed her bag to the floor. She retrieved a pair of navy blue sweatpants. She quickly slipped into the warm garment, then shuffled through her bag. Aaron watched her in disbelief. Simon watched her majestic movements, hypnotized by her grace.

Aaron shook his head and asked, “How the hell did you hear us from so far?” As Simon hesitated, Aaron said, “Forget that, just forget it. Tell me: why should we trust you?”

Simon nonchalantly shrugged and said, “Well, I didn't kill you already. I'm not armed. And, I know what I'm doing.”

“That's not good enough...”

Brenda interrupted, “Well, it's good enough for me. We need to get out of here. We need to leave. We've lost Michael, we've lost Sarah, we can't lose each other. This is our best bet. You want to go to Vegas. Well, we can go to the gas station. If there are no cars or if there's no fuel left, we'll go to Vegas – you have my word. If we find supplies there, I say we head to the cold land.” As she saw the reluctance in Aaron's eyes, Brenda said, “We're better off with more people with those maniacs around. I love you and I don't want you to be alone if something happens to me...”

Aaron sighed, then said, “Alright, alright, we'll go to the gas station. If there's nothing there for us, we'll spend the night there, then
we head to Vegas.
No more detours.” He gazed into Simon's uncanny eyes and said, “You can join us. We can work together. But, listen to me, I've got my eye on you...”

Simon nodded and said, “That's good. Let's get moving.”

***

The trio trudged down the side of the road, surrounded by the barren and arid desert – departing the flimsy shed and heading towards uncertainty. The temperature dropped with sundown, plummeting to a wintry cold. An impenetrable darkness doused the desert with gloomy shadows and an ominous ambiance.

Aaron sauntered three meters behind Simon and Brenda, his torso veiled by layers of hooded and crew-neck sweaters. He tightly gripped his flashlight and brightened his path. He tried to inconspicuously illuminate the friendly pair. He had his eyes locked on Simon as he analyzed the situation. He was suspicious of his new companion.

As he stared at Simon and Brenda, Aaron whispered, “Don't try anything stupid...”

“The same to you...” Simon whispered.

Brenda glanced at Simon with a furrowed brow and asked, “What was that?”

Simon simply smiled and shook his head –
it was nothing.
Brenda shrugged and zipped up her black parka jacket, hopelessly trying to adjust to the frigid weather. She glanced back at Aaron and shook her head in disappointment. She felt his blatant distrust was discourteous and unnecessary. She retrieved her flashlight from her pocket and illuminated the road ahead.

Brenda turned towards Simon and asked, “Aren't you freezing?” She crossed her arms and vigorously rubbed her shoulders as she said, “I'm sorry, this is my last layer and I'm freezing. Aaron would probably kill me
and
you if I gave it to you anyway. I'm sorry.”

Simon responded, “Don't worry about it. I prefer the cold. I only travel at night, so maybe I've just grown accustomed to it. Maybe it's in my genes...”

Brenda smiled as she inspected Simon, running her eyes across his body. His tattered white t-shirt and blue jeans couldn't possibly provide enough warmth to survive the gelid cold. There wasn't a single bump on his skin or a shudder of his body. The weather did not disturb him.

Brenda asked, “Can you actually get us to the cold land?”

“Of course. I was waiting until November to head up to Point Barrow in Alaska. You see, the sun will go down for two months. That's more than enough time to regroup and... and try to recreate ourselves. It's difficult to only travel at night, though.”

Brenda furrowed her brow and asked, “I mean, couldn't you just risk it every once in a while? I understand the idea, but you must travel at least some time during the day, right?”

Simon sighed, then explained, “No, I only travel at night and I only rest in the shadows. Nowadays, I'm afraid of the sunlight. I'm afraid of dying alone. The cold doesn't affect me, the light will probably kill me. And, I can't die yet. Now that I've got you, I refuse to die...”

Brenda narrowed her eyes as she watched Simon. Simon was unexpectedly tender and sincere. His honeyed words wooed her, winning her over as a trustworthy friend in a world of suspicion and doubt. She couldn't help but smile as she walked beside him. She moved closer and gently rubbed her veiled arm against his bare forearm, inconspicuously trying to transfer some of her heat.

Simon whispered, “Thank you...”

Abruptly, Aaron hopped between the pair, shoving his way through the measly crack in their arms. He shook his head as he glared at Brenda and shoved Simon off the road. His daunting stare was fueled by jealousy and anger.

Aaron whispered, “What do you think you're doing?”

Brenda nonchalantly shrugged and responded, “Nothing, nothing. We were just talking about our plans.” She furrowed her brow and continued, “What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you're going to kill me.
Please,
calm down.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I should. You're over here with this guy we don't know and you're...”

Before he could finish, he felt a tight grip on his wrist. He stopped and turned towards the darkness. Simon glowered at Aaron, his eyes darker than the night. His sharp fingernails pierced through Aaron's layered clothing, sinking deeper into his skin with each passing second. Aaron was frozen by the fear. His teeth chattered as he gazed into Simon's furious eyes.

Brenda gently planted her fingertips on Simon's hand and said, “It's okay. I'm okay.”

Simon loudly swallowed as he released Aaron and slowly stepped back. He said, “I'm sorry. I just can't... I can't risk losing more friends. We can't turn against each other during a time like this. It would be foolish to kill each other off. We have enough problems trying to survive already.”

Brenda held Simon's wrist with both of her hands and said, “You're right. You're completely right. We can talk through our problems. We can't shove each other and you can't go around grabbing people like that. We can't provoke each other like that.” She leaned forward and softly whispered, “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

Aaron stomped and kicked as he stepped towards the center of the road. He shouted, “I can't believe this!” He turned back towards the pair and said, “I don't care about this crap anymore. You said there was a gas station. We've been walking for miles.
Where is it?
Where are you leading us? If you're leading us to an ambush, I swear...”

Simon turned his head and disregarded Aaron's whiny protest. He squinted as he peered into the darkness and contemplated. Realizing his complaints were futile, Aaron stopped his fussing and shook his head. Brenda watched Simon with a raised brow.