Chapter One: The Legend
by Clay
You could see her on a foggy night. Her long chestnut hair would blow around her face in a non-existent wind. Pure moonlight hung from her body in waves of silk.
Or at least that's how the story goes.
There were a least a dozen versions of 'The Lady of the Lake' floating about Miller's Grove, a small town of merely 5,000 people. Some say she's young and beautiful, some an old withered hag. Some say her face is a deathly white, the skin bloated and dripping from algae tinged bones.
Still more claim that she isn't wearing white but a black so deep that it draws in the night from around her. Some claim she wears nothing at all.
And still more differing is the account of how she died. Suicide seems the most popular, yet some insist that her husband murdered her, and some say it was the wife of a lover that did her in. Only one tale tells it as an accident.
One, and only one fact remains consistent in all the retellings. She died on a foggy night in the black depths of Opal Lake.
For over one hundred years occultists, historians, and bored teenagers have tried to discover the origins of 'the Lady,' but to no avail. Drownings weren't uncommon, and yet not a single article or obituary from the dregs of the local library could come up with a girl that suited the legend, diverse as it was.
___________________________________________________________________________
Quatre stepped into his cousin's room, a stack of said articles nestled under one arm. Heero looked up from his computer with a slight scowl.
"Don't you knock?"
Quatre gave an apologetic smile, "I was just so excited. Tonight's the night! Think we'll see her?"
Heero rolled his eyes before returning his attention to the monitor. "No." He finished checking his email: none as usual, and turned back to his cousin. "I don't believe in ghosts. Find anything?" He nodded to the stack of papers.
"Mm? Oh… well…." Quatre bit his lip and took a seat on the bed. "I've kind of given up looking for her. After all, it's been three weeks and the closest we've come is the red head with the cheating husband."
"She's supposed to have brown hair," Heero reminded him, snatching the papers out of his hands.
"Or black. I know. Um…" Quatre reached out a hand, looking apprehensive, "Do you think I could have those back?"
Heero raised an eyebrow and flipped through the stack. The top twenty or so sheets were varied sightings over the years, and…. With a smirk, Heero lifted a page nestled in the middle of the pile.
"'The Joy of Gay Sex?' This is what you've been doing in the library?"
Quatre ripped the papers out of his hands, his cheeks a deep crimson. "Well, I figured as long as I was there…."
"Whatever." A low chuckle bubbled its way up his throat and Heero turned to the computer, closed Internet Explorer, and shut down. "Let's see what's for dinner."
___________________________________________________________________________
"You boys'll be careful, right?" Quatre's father asked them over dinner, pointing to each in turn with a forkful of mashed potatoes.
"Dad," Quatre gave him an imploring look.
"I know, I know. I'm just saying. If your mother were alive, she'd be having kittens, me letting you go down to that lake on a night like this."
"But you can only see her on a night like this," Quatre pointed out.
The older man shook his head. "You can't see nothing on a night like this. I wouldn't even be letting you go if I hadn't tried it myself when I was your age. I didn't see anything then and you won't see anything now. Nothing but a lot of fog."
After that, the conversation took a lighter turn and soon the boys were grabbing their jackets and heading out the door. Heero grabbed his keys from a table by the door and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into Mr. Winner's solemn blue eyes. "You will watch out for him, won't you?" Heero opened his mouth, but was silenced with the wave of one large hand. "I know you think I worry too much, but you boys are all I have left. First Sue, and then Jack and your mom…. Maybe I'm a little over protective, but I have my reasons.
"Anyway, the point is that you're just as much my son as Quatre is and I don't want anything happening to either of you."
"I know, sir."
"You're the level headed one. So you just keep your eyes on the road and for goodness sake, drive slowly."
"Yes, sir." Heero graced his uncle with a fleeting smile before stepping out the door.
___________________________________________________________________________
Quatre was heading back from the neighbor's, boyfriend in tow. Despite the oddity of finding out that not only were both his cousin and best friend gay, but they also happened to be madly in love with each other less than a year ago, Heero had to admit they made a cute couple. Quatre was shorter, with innocent eyes and a shock of bright blond hair, while his boyfriend, Trowa, was the taller, darker, quieter one. They fit perfectly together.
Heero, himself, had gone through a dozen girlfriends in half as many years, and had broken his childhood love's heart more than a few times with his failure to commit. Quatre and Trowa had begun to joke that the string of girlfriends was merely a way to cover up the fact that he really liked guys. Angry with the insinuation at first, Heero had recently started to give it serious thought. And the conclusions were beginning to scare him.
The three boys piled into Heero's wide, red pickup and backed into the street, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
"Ready everyone?" Quatre bounced, looking back and forth between the two quieter guys. His enthusiasm was met with a grunt from Heero and a warm smile from Trowa.
Opal Lake was a good half hour from their homes, resting on the outskirts of town between two expansive farms. To pass the time, Quatre read some of the more recent sightings aloud.
"The last time the lady was seen was almost ten years ago by a…" he skimmed the article briefly, "by a Doctor Rubious Gee. It looks like he left town a short time later. Damn. We could have asked him about it. Anyway," he continued, "It was on April fourth… hm…." He looked up, staring out the windshield thoughtfully, "Isn't today the fourth?"
"Yup," Trowa replied, his own attention on the people milling around the Miller's Grove fire station.
"Now that I think about it," Quatre went on, "most of the sightings have been in early April."
"Looks like we picked a good time to go ghost hunting," Trowa beamed down at his boyfriend. "Go own."
"Well… he said that… that it was around ten at night and he had been strolling around the lake with his dog, hoping to see her. Suddenly the dog… er…. Rover," he made a face, "How original. Yeah, well, Rover went running into the lake, barking like mad. And then he stopped. Doctor Gee called out to him, looking over the lake, but the fog was so thick her could barely make out the pier. And that's when he saw her.
"He thought it was his dog at first, climbing out of the water, but as he approached, he saw that it wasn't fur he was seeing, but long brown hair. He said she was wearing a long white dress. That she was dripping wet from the lake water. He stopped about twenty feet from her… and then she turned and looked at him.
"He said her eyes were huge vacant holes in her head. And she looked at him, and screamed."
"And?" Heero heard himself saying, "Then what happened?"
Quatre took a moment to finish the article and then laughed. "And then he fainted. Apparently he woke the next morning to Rover licking his face."
"Hm… got any more?" Trowa took the stack of papers and rifled through them, blushing when he came to Quatre's…. other research. He quickly flipped back to the front and picked up the top page.
"Twenty five years ago Simon Jay said he saw the Lady while walking home from his girlfriend's place. He had stopped at the lake for a smoke. He looked down to light a match, and when he looked back up, there she was, standing on the end of the pier, looking at him. He was so scared he… oh, get this. He pissed his pants."
The whole car burst into laughter, and Heero narrowly missed running a red light, his eyes were so full of tears.
"Any more?" He asked, passing the last house for four miles.
Trowa looked up in surprise, "You're really getting into this."
Heero glared at him and then turned back to the road, shrugging. "I like a good story."
___________________________________________________________________________
Ten minutes later, Heero ground the truck to a halt and the three boys climbed out. Heero jumped in the back and rummaged until he found two flashlights and working batteries.
"So," he turned to Quatre after hopping down from the bed of the truck, "What now?"
The blond looked thoughtful, "Well, the lake is just beyond that grove of trees," he gestured vaguely, " but more often than not, she's seen on one of the piers. It's never stated which one. So, how about Trowa and I go around the north side," he pointed to the right, "and you go to the south?"
"By myself?" Heero frowned.
Trowa laughed, prodding Heero with his flashlight. "Don't tell me you're scared."
"Only of dying of boredom. You two go on; I'm going to look for something to read in the truck."
"But you will go out to the pier, right?" Quatre called out as Heero turned his back on them.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Okay…." Quatre took his boyfriend's hand, "Meet us back here in an hour."
___________________________________________________________________________
Heero turned the paper left and then right and then left again in the dim light of his flashlight. The shoddy copier had made a mess of this chapter's accompanying photographs, and, well, some of these positions were hard to imagine without illustrations.
He suddenly chucked 'The Joy of Gay Sex' to the ground. It was just…
"Curiosity." Heero nodded to himself, "Just trying to… understand my friends. Right." He looked at the sheaf of papers, title page tugging against its binding in the breeze, "That's all."
"Hello?"
Heero jerked his head up and stared into the fog.
A thick mist rolled off the lake and hung in a curtain all around. He couldn't see a thing. Getting to his feet, he slowly made his way to the dock. "Hello? Is someone there?" Ghosts don't talk, do they? Don't be silly, he chided, taking a step onto the solid wood; there are no such thing as ghosts.
"Yay. A person!"
The voice came again, sounding relieved, from the far end of the pier.
Heero squinted. There was someone there. Near the end of the pier, moving toward him was a slim figure with long chestnut hair. Heero stood, rooted to the ground. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe.
"Hello?" The figure spoke again, beginning to sound annoyed. And suddenly he was out of the fog, hands crossed over his chest.
He?! Heero did a double take. He looked over the boy before him dressed in slacks, a white button down and black vest and almost laughed. It wasn't a ghost; it was just some guy, probably looking for the same thing he was.
"What's so funny?" The boy's expressive amethyst eyes narrowed.
"I'm sorry, I just thought…."
"Thought I was a ghost?" His eyes twinkled, "Yeah, I get that a lot." Heero watched as he made his way back toward the end of the pier and sat down, bare feet barely brushing the water.
He threw Heero a glance over his shoulder, "Gonna join me?"
Without a word, he sat down next to the boy, staring into the fog.
"Out here looking for her, huh?" He smiled, "What's your name?"
"Heero."
"Hero? Like a knight in shining armor kind of hero?"
Heero gave him a strained look and spelled it out.
"Huh." The boy shook his head, "Funny name."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, but apparently the boy couldn't take it and started going on about the weather. Heero just sat and listened, content to just have some company while he waited out the hour. The boy was just starting in on a diatribe about the suede in Heero's jacket, hands moving about expressively, when his arm brushed Heero's. A cold shiver traveled through Heero's body and he turned to the boy.
"You're freezing."
"-but when I was ali-a kid, I- what?"
Heero's eyes traveled over the slim body, taking in the sheer material of his shirt. "You're so cold. Here." He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the boy's shoulders.
Amethyst eyes widened in confusion before a great smile broke across his face. Laughter spilled from his lips like raindrops. "Thank you. You really didn't have to, but thank you."
The action seemed to stun the boy into silence, because it was a few minutes before he spoke again. "Duo."
Heero turned to him, cobalt eyes nearly black in the dim light.
"My name is Duo," the boy continued, "Duo Maxwell."
Heero nodded, his eyes once again fixed on the fog rolling slowly across the lake. "Do you live around here?"
There was the barest hint of a smile in Duo's voice as he answered, "I used to. But that was a long time ago."
"Moving back?"
This time, Duo's laugh was harsh and dripping with sarcasm. "I wish." Heero waited and sure enough, the talkative boy continued. "I'm not really welcome here anymore. I guess I didn't make a very good farm hand… or son."
"Oh…." Something suddenly clicked in Heero's head and he turned to Duo excitedly, "Maxwell? Like Father Maxwell? His family owns the farm about a mile down the road." One arm swung to point across the lake.
Duo nodded thoughtfully. "So there's still a reverend in the family. I guess there always will be."
"So… are you Matthew's brother… cousin? He graduates this year."
"Graduates?"
Heero lifted an eyebrow, "High school?"
"High school? Um… yeah. Something like that."
"Something like what?"
"A cousin or something." Duo seemed distracted. He was fidgeting with the hem of his vest, eyes downcast. "The fog is lifting."
Heero looked up. The stars were almost visible through the thinning mist.
"I'm going to have to go soon."
Heero nodded and checked his watch, "Shit. I'm late." He jumped up and suddenly felt a cold hand on his calf.
"Heero?" Duo was climbing slowly to his feet, "Your jacket."
"Oh, right. Thanks." He lifted the coat from Duo's hands and turned to go, but just as he was about to step onto the grass, he found himself stopping and turning back. He looked into Duo's eyes and found himself asking, "Will I see you again?"
Duo smiled and Heero felt his breath leave. "I should be here next foggy night."
"Where are you staying?"
Duo suddenly frowned and looked away.
Heero took a step forward, "Did I say something wrong?"
"Can I kiss you?"
Duo still had his eyes averted, and he was playing with the hem of his vest again. Without allowing himself to think, Heero crossed the distance between them and took Duo's face in his hands. His cheeks were like ice. He could feel the cold radiating from him as he lowered his lips to the other boy's. After a moment he pulled back and was struck by how right it felt. A second later he was pulling Duo into a tight embrace. The second kiss was more passionate and Duo's cold lips parted under his. The inside of Duo's mouth was strangely cool, not as cold as his skin, but a lukewarm that seemed very wrong.
However, Heero found it easy to ignore as Duo's arms tightened around his waist.
A moment later, Heero pulled away, flushed and breathless. "Come with me."
Duo's eyes opened slowly, a pained expression written in their violet depths "I can't."
"But-"
"Please." Duo was shaking his head, "Just go. Come back on the next foggy night. I'll be waiting for you. I promise." The boy took a step back and Heero hesitated a moment and then turned. He spotted his papers lying forgotten in the grass and went to retrieve them. He straightened up and turned back to the dock, but Duo was gone.
End Chapter One
___________________________________________________________________________
Author's notes: The inspiration for this story was taken from a short story entitled "Love Sat Alone on a Foggy Pier," by Terry Campbell. You can find this story in an anthology entitled "Horrors! 365 Scary Stories." Though I'll tell you right now, mine is better. ^_^ The original story had a good idea, but the author didn't really go anywhere with it. That's what the point of this story was.