Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26525489-20161115004342/@comment-28266772-20161117161529

Trevor shouldered his backpack, grabbed his sleeping bag and the case of beer, and closed the car door with his foot. He stepped around the “No Camping” sign and hurried along the overgrown path. Looking ahead, he could just see his friends rounding a bend in the trail through the growing shadow of the trees as the sun slowly sank in the sky. He knew his way to the site, they scouted it out before they began unloading, but he still had no particular desire to try remember it alone. He quickened his pace, hoping to gain some ground.

Even though they were briefly out of his sight, Trevor could still hear Max’s voice clearly cutting through the ambient woodland sounds. He was laughing at some joke Brian had made and commenting that tonight was their last chance to get crazy before Brian signed away his freedom forever. Trevor smiled. Brian might be getting married tomorrow, but if anything Kate was likely to encourage him to be even more crazy [feels clunky; I think ‘crazier’ is a simpler word choice].

Trevor turned the corner and jogged the last thirty feet to catch up with his friends.

“About time,” Brian smiled as Trevor joined the group. “I was afraid we were gonna have to start the party without you.”

“You might have been able to start without me,” Trevor laughed. “But you wouldn’t be able to get very far without these.” He indicated the large case of beer in his left hand.

“Ahh, you know our weakness,” Max laughed. “All right, all right. You can stay.”

Trevor grinned in response, but he couldn’t help but take Max’s words a little personally. Trevor and Brian had been almost inseparable when they were kids, but Max and Brian had lived together in college and gotten very close. Trevor couldn’t help but feel a little left out. Nowadays it seemed like he and Brian didn’t click as well anymore and Trevor was fighting just to be accepted by his best friend. Tonight wasn’t the night to be thinking about that, though. Tonight was about celebrating Brian starting a new life with Kate.

The three young men cleared the line of trees and stepped out onto a small beach on the edge of the lake. The sand was a little rough and littered with rocks, but it still made for a beautiful scene as the sunset reflected orange and purple across the water.

Trevor gazed across the water and noticed not the sunset, but the sand lining all sides of the lake. This made him a little worried that their campsite could be easily seen by park rangers looking for campers violating the park rules. Max, being the best man, had insisted on this location. Trevor would have preferred something closer to home, but Max had a buddy that told him there was no better camping than at the Hallowroots [Hallowroot’s] lake. Trevor begrudgingly agreed, but told Max that he could be the one to explain to Kate why she had to bail Brian out of jail on their wedding day.

Max was right that the site was perfect, the tent would fit snugly just on the edge of the water, but Trevor couldn’t shake this feeling that something was going to go wrong. Of course, that could be attributed to his tendency to overthink and worry. It had been a long time since he had broken any rules and he was a little out of practice.

It didn’t take long for Trevor to set up the tent or for Brian to make a fire from the wood Max had gathered. That was probably a good thing because in a matter of minutes the sun had completed its trip below the horizon and the only light remaining was the warm glow of the campfire and the pale reflection of a waning moon.

A few beers loosened Trevor up quite a bit. The three young men spent hours around the fire laughing and cooking brats. Trevor still wasn’t terribly comfortable with Max, but he was enjoying himself nonetheless. They had begun trading stories of past adventures and eventually made their way into ghost stories and then on to the myths and legends of the town of Hallowroots. Growing up an hour or two south of Hallowroots, depending on the day, Trevor had heard a few stories of this unusual town. Max on the other hand was somewhat of an expert. He knew every story Trevor could tell and filled in the blanks when Trevor missed something. Eventually both Brian and Trevor permanently relinquished the floor to Max who was more than happy to recite as many tall tales as he possibly could.

“Okay, guys, this next one’s a true story,” Max began, crushing and empty beer can and tossing it out of the ring of light from the fire. The boys fell silent for long enough to hear a slight splash informing them that the beer can had found its mark.

“That’s what you’ve said about the last four,” Brian laughed.

“I know, I know, but this one actually is,” Max replied, feigning offense at the suggestion.

“Just tell it,” Brian insisted between a grin and swig of beer. “If it’s a good enough story, who cares?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“It’s more of a general fact,” Max corrected in his best storytelling voice, opening another can. “The Hallowroots lake was actually man-made on accident.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Is that it?” Brian mocked after Max paused dramatically. “Tell me more tell me more, like did the guy who made it have a car?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Make your jokes, but it’s actually a great mystery of nature,” Max defended. “See, this used to be a somewhat successful mining town back in the day. This company kept buying up a bunch of land to use for their mines and drilling down into the hills. There was already a natural valley in this area when they bought it, but they had no plans of making [it] into a lake. They dug down really deep to make a mine and suddenly water started pouring out of one of the holes and filled up the tunnel. They tried to pump it out but the water just kept coming and coming until it eventually flooded the whole mine and kept rising until it formed this. The company had no use for a lake, so they bought more land elsewhere and tried drilling again. A few years later they went out of business and the town inherited this land and that is the story of the Hallowroots [Hallowroot’s] lake.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“A real nail-biter,” Brian commented sarcastically. “That’ll be really useful information in case I ever decide to write a history textbook about this town.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“This is why I tell you all the fake stories,” Max shot back. “I tell you a real one and you hate it.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I thought it was interesting,” Trevor jumped in. He had planned to say more, but lost his nerve intruding on their rapport.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I like this guy,” Max shouted, clapping Trevor on the shoulder. “Thank him, Brian. He’s the only reason I’m willing to keep gracing your ears with my stories.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Damn it, Trevor,” Brian muttered causing all three boys to erupt into laughter.

<p class="MsoNormal">This exchange boosted Trevor’s confidence a little and he immediately felt more included as part of the group, though he still felt a little resentment toward one of the members. He watched Max finish his new beer, crumple the can and toss it towards the lake. Trevor listened for the splash but heard only silence this time. He realized Max must be getting pretty drunk if he couldn’t even hit the lake anymore.

<p class="MsoNormal">A few more hours and many beers later, the three boys retired to the tent and nearly immediately passed out. Maybe it was something about the gentle lapping of the water on the shore or maybe the warmth of the late summer evening but it was incredibly easy to fall asleep. The tent was large enough that they could all have their own space and neither of the other two boys awakened when Trevor shot up to a seated position from his slumbers.

<p class="MsoNormal">He was still a little intoxicated, but he was sure he had heard some sound in the distance. He cocked his head to the side and listened more carefully in the direction from where he thought it came. Through the side of the small waves and the chorus of bugs, something stuck out again. He couldn’t make out any distinct words, but it sounded a little like two male voices yelling back and forth to one another. Feeling instantly sober and wide awake, Trevor strained his ears to listen more carefully, but it was if nothing had ever happened. He heard no more of the voices.

<p class="MsoNormal">The source of the sound seemed to be near where they had parked earlier that evening. Trevor realized it was most likely a team of rangers who had found their car and deduced that there must be people camping in the area. It was only a matter of time, before they followed the path and found the site.

<p class="MsoNormal">The sounds of the other two boys stirring in the tent made Trevor jump slightly. It was possible that they had also heard the sound [feels like repetition of ‘sound’] and maybe they were waking up. Maybe then they could make a plan to move the site and get back to the car before they were caught. He glanced over to them, waiting for one of them to say something or sit up as well, but he was disappointed. Their stirring must have been merely coincidence as they soon settled back down and continued their sleep.

<p class="MsoNormal">Trevor attempted to follow suit, lying back down on his sleeping bag. They had been so mellow about the idea of getting caught and all he could do is [was] try to match their attitude. If they got caught, they got caught. There was nothing he could do alone to stop that. In the long run, it was worse to spend the whole night dreading the rangers finding them than it was to simply get caught when they were arrived [everything after ‘caught’ feels very awkward and clunky]. Plus, he was bound to hear them again as they got closer if he could already here [hear]them at this distance.

<p class="MsoNormal">Despite his attempts to convince himself he was as easygoing [easy going/easy-going]as his friends, Trevor could not find [find feels a bit superfluous] sleep again. The terror had successfully woken him up completely and rest was now a fleeting memory. The night suddenly seemed less pleasant and the lapping of the lake [missing word]louder and not quite as relaxing. The moonlight through the mesh at the top of the tent was suddenly bright and directed right at Trevor’s eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal">Time seemed to slow down as Trevor lay there waiting for sleep to take him. His phone initially read 2:51 and a glance an hour or so later told him 3:07. If only he could wait a few more hours for sunrise he could leave the tent and not have to worry about being alone in the darkness.

<p class="MsoNormal">As he was about to check the time once again, his thoughts were interrupted by a strange birdcall. It was strange in the sense that it didn’t sound like it was being made by a bird at all. Once more, Trevor shot up to a seated position. It called again, this time mimicking a different bird. [the preceding sentence feels weird given the following information]    Trevor was sure that was no animal, it sounded very clearly like a woman’s voice just a few hundred feet down the beach. He looked over at his companions again, but this time they weren’t even stirring. He was alone.

<p class="MsoNormal">Another call came, but this one sounded distinctly more like a spoken word, drawn out in the singsong voice. The source of the voice was getting closer, but Trevor couldn’t see anything through the colored polyester walls of the tent. He tried to make out what she was saying, but it was difficult to hear of [over] the almost deafening sound of waves on the beach. He thought about opening the tent flap, but he was almost [almost feels superfluous] more afraid of knowing what was making the sound than he was of not knowing. [this sentence feels a bit awkward]

<p class="MsoNormal">Almost as suddenly as they had begun, the calls stopped. Trevor listened desperately, wondering if the source had finally gotten close enough to see their campsite. Still hearing nothing, he pressed his left ear and both hands to the edge of the tent hoping to hear the outside world a little better.

<p class="MsoNormal">A few more seconds of listening yielded no results. He did feel a strange sensation, though, and looking down the length of the tent he could see water leaking through the tent wall and pooling at their feet. Shocked, he pulled his feet out of the surprisingly cold water and brought his knees up to meet his chest. He turned to wake up Brian and Max but, before he could make a noise, he felt something press up against his left hand, which was still held to the tent wall.

<p class="MsoNormal">'[Intermission; I’m enjoying this so far but the cycle of tension/release is overplayed. I think this guy could get away with sitting up just once and then laying back down and then getting his feet wet. It feels like 800 words of filler between then going to sleep and the story moving forward from this point on]'

<p class="MsoNormal">He yanked his hand away in terror, and scrambled to his feet in the opposite direction, running into the other two young men in the process.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What the hell, man?” Max exclaimed angrily as he awoke.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Why are my feet wet?” Brian demanded in a similar state.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Shh, guys, shut up,” Trevor responded, the terror in his voice sufficing to silence them. “There’s something outside.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The trio fell silent, listening carefully. They waited for a minute or so, but heard nothing. Even the sounds of the water had died down, leaving almost complete nothingness.

<p class="MsoNormal">Eventually, Max grew tired of waiting and just as he opened his mouth to speak, they all heard very clearly on the other side of the thin wall of polyester a child’s voice utter one word.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Bye.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The tent was immediately and violently dragged down the beach and gallons of the dark, freezing water rushed in. The force of the moving tent threw Trevor off his feet and into the opposite tent [repetition of ‘tent’] wall. He struggled to regain his footing while the other boys fought to escape from their drenched sleeping bags and get above the rising water level.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What is happening?” Brian spluttered through mouthfuls of waters as he finally freed himself from the sleeping bag.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Trevor screamed. This was too unreal. The water level was steadily rising and the ground below was getting less stable making it almost impossible to stand. It was obvious the tent was being dragged into the lake.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, we need to get out of here,” Max shouted over the sounds of rushing water. He half stumbled half swam to the tent flap and began fumbling for the zipper.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Wait,” Trevor said in terror. “We don’t know what’s out there!”

<p class="MsoNormal">“And you’d rather drown in here than find out?” Max asked incredulously. Without waiting for an answer, he unzipped the door to the tent. With the door open the water rushed in even faster with enough force to knock Max backward. A tentacle of sorts shot through the opening in the door, feeling around as though it were searching for something. The dark red tendril snaked further into the tent and wrapped itself around Max’s ankle. Max had enough time to glance up at the other two with a look of horror on his face before he was yanked into the dark waters outside.

<p class="MsoNormal">Brian and Trevor both let out screams and tried to move as far away from the door as they could, not that it mattered much. With the door open, the water had filled the tent almost completely. They were far enough out in the lake that the water was starting to pour through the mesh at the top of the dome as well. Trevor took one last breath as the water reached his chin before the tent became completely submerged and everything went black.

<p class="MsoNormal">...

<p class="MsoNormal">Trevor blinked into consciousness as the light from the rising sun struck his eyes. Shading them with his right hand and pushing himself to a seated position with his left, he could feel sand under his palm. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the morning, a process elongated due to his intoxication the previous night. When the light finally became tolerable, he found he had fallen asleep directly on the beach. Chuckling, he realized he must have been even more drunk than he thought. It wasn’t until he saw the remains of the tent floating in the shallows that the memories of the previous night came flooding back.

<p class="MsoNormal">The terror rushing back to him, Trevor jumped to his feet and frantically looked around the beach for a sign of either of his fellow campers. He quickly found Brian, who was also just waking up a few yards down the beach from Trevor.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Brian, over here,” Trevor called. “Are you okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Brian also rose to his feet, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “Other than a killer hangover, I’m fine. Please tell me last night was just a horrible dream.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I was about to say the same thing to you,” Trevor sighed. “So I’m guessing we’re probably both out of luck there.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Where’s Max,” Brian asked, suddenly more urgent. “That thing grabbed him last night.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh shit,” Trevor replied, realizing that they might not have all made it through the horrors. “Maybe he also washed up on shore?”

<p class="MsoNormal">The duo scanned the beach around them to no avail. They were beginning to lose hope and give in to the thought that maybe Max was still in the lake until Brian pointed a few hundred yards down the beach to a figure walking just by the water. “Is that him?”

<p class="MsoNormal">They walked a little closer to the figure and discovered that it was, indeed, Max. He appeared to be holding a bag of sorts as he walked. As the two boys closed the distance between them and their missing comrade, it became clear that Max was picking up pieces of trash along the beach and the shallows of the lake.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Max,” Brian shouted. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Max turned to face them as soon as he heard Brian’s voice and smiled. He waved and started to walk towards them when, suddenly, the same red tentacle from the night prior burst out of the water and slapped him three times in the face before pointing to the next piece of trash. After shaking off the force of the blows, Max shrugged at the other two boys with a confused look and returned to his task.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What the hell is that?” Trevor asked once he got over his initial shock.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t know,” answered Brian, stifling a chuckle. “But I guess it really doesn’t like littering.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Leave it to you to pick the guy who pisses off an environmentally conscious lake monster as your best man.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh no,” Brian exclaimed, looking down at his watch. He sounded more panicked in this moment than he had at any previous point throughout the night. “The wedding. We need to go. Right now.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“It doesn’t look like Max is going anywhere anytime soon,” Trevor responded, smiling just a little at the prospect. “There’s quite a bit of shoreline left for him to clean.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Sorry, Max. We have to get to the wedding. We’ll come back for you later,” Brian yelled before turning back towards the car and taking off on a brisk walk. “He’ll understand. Looks like I’m gonna need a new best man for the wedding, though. You up for it?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Absolutely.” Trevor took one last look at the dispirited trash collector then jogged after Brian towards the car.

<p class="MsoNormal">The trip back along the path was decidedly less ominous than before and Trevor had a certain pep in his step. He noticed a strange mark on his hand where it had been touched last night. It didn’t seem possible, but it had already formed a scar. Shrugging it off, Trevor enjoyed the walk. Birds were calling back and forth and the late morning sun was warm on his face as it filtered calmly through the leafy canopy of the trees. In the distance, he could just hear the peaceful splashing of the water meeting the shore. He couldn’t remember why he was so nervous about this place last night, it was even more perfect than promised.

<p class="MsoNormal">-

<p class="MsoNormal">Mechanical issues – I noted anything I found in the story; for the most part pretty much perfect.

<p class="MsoNormal">Style issues – nothing worth mentioning.

<p class="MsoNormal">Plot issues – man that ending did not gel with me. I was just jolted out of immersion by them being all happy-go-lucky about the lake monster. The head-on acknowledgement was just weird and dissonant and messed with the tone. I think it would have been better if they’d found the guy shaken and terrified as he wandered up and down the beach collecting trash. The black humour would have seeped through on its own without the need for anything else. I actually think if you took the line,

<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t know,” answered Brian, stifling a chuckle. “But I guess it really doesn’t like littering.”

<p class="MsoNormal">And deleted ‘stifling a chuckle’ you could end the story right there and then and it would work quite well. Other than that I enjoyed this entry and appreciate you adding to the collab.