The Lake

Okay, this is a really old story. Honestly, I wrote this one when I was about 10. I've changed it a bit, mostly editing the grammar and tweaking the ending, but it's almost exactly the same story as the one on that old, tattered couple of pages that have been hidden under my bed over these past 6 years. And it's not strictly a fanfic, but I wrote it when I was reading a lot of survivor-style stories. So I figure I might as well put it here...

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For two days he sat there, watching the damned lake, hoping for some animal to happen by, something he could eat. Yet nothing came, and he realized his time was running out. His only comfort there was calm determination brought to him by the lake.

It proved to be more than a landmark, more than a vague chance of survival. Rather, as time passed, he began to view it as a cursed companion, doomed to live out an eternity alone… except for one pathetic soul that had gotten lost on a weekend trip. And it seemed that it knew he was there, starving. At times, the surface of the lake would be as smooth as glass. At others, the fish would jump, so many that it would seem the lake was boiling, that some foul demon had opened the Gates of Hell and was emerging, looking for food.

But no demon emerged to devour him. Thinking about it in those endless hours, he realized that he was actually hoping it would happen. At least he wouldn't be hungry anymore.

And so it continued, the man trying to find food, his will running out, and the lake slowly but surely driving him mad. If only he had some fishing line or a net! But no, all he had was a cheap bow his brother had given him before the trip. He couldn't even aim the damn thing!

Finally at dawn of the third day, mere hours before death would close it's icy grip about him, a single deer walked to the lake. The feeling of relief that he felt nearly brought him to his knees. He knew that, finally, things were working out.

Slowly, quietly, he began to move towards the deer. As the minutes dragged on, he closed to within 50 yards of his prey. Drawing his bow, he prepared to fire.

Thinking about the meal he would soon be eating, he loosed the bow… and watched it sail over the deer and into the lake. Alerted by the sound, the creature fled back into the safety of the forest.

In that instant, his defenses broke down and he fully embraced the utter despair that had been so quick to destroy his late companion. Looking at the lake, watching the fish rise mockingly, he realized that it was hopeless, that he had all but destroyed any chance he had at survival. All because of that one damned shot!

He walked to the shore of the lake, that tormenting entity that had finally succeeded in driving him mad. He looked into its waters, fully intending to throw himself in, to drown himself, to end the misery that had become his life. Memories flooded his mind, memories of his friends, his family, his beloved wife. How he missed them! And now it was over, he had no chance to see them again. What would happen to them? His wife, he remembered, was three months pregnant, carrying their child. Would she be able to support the two of them by herself?

No, he decided. He would not die. For her, he would fight on. For their child, he would survive.

A new, steely resolve flashed through his body, banishing his fear and his pain. He knew that he could survive, so long as he held that tiny candle of hope. Somehow, things would work out for him.

It was in that moment, when he found himself alive with a new vigor he had never felt before, that a loud crashing was heard coming from deep within the hearts of the dark woods around the lake. Turning, fully believing it was some sort of hell-beast, the man prepared himself to die.

But it was not a hell-beast, some creature of mythology existing solely to torment him. Rather, it was a simple grizzly bear, though one drawn haggard and exhausted by starvation and disease. It watched him as he drew another arrow.

This creature, he knew, would not run. Both combatants would fight to the death, knowing this was its last chance for survival. If he died here, he would give the bear hell before he did.

And as the bear charged, foam spraying from its mouth with grunts and growls of madness rising from deep in its chest, the man watched. The bear was fully intent on ripping him limb from bloody limb.

The man was keen on returning the favor.

He calmly drew his bow, embracing death, preparing for the end that he knew was finally, inevitably here.

A solitary arrow flew, whistling, down the beach. Two figures slammed into each other, tumbling in the harsh sand to stop after several yards. The figures lay very still, having fallen from time and memory, perhaps never to return.

Finally, after a timeless eternity, one rose. Standing above his defeated foe, his brother in the never-ending circle of death and survival, he growled triumphantly to the wilderness.

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Well, folks, I apologize if stuff wasn't all that realistic (referring to the animals, etc.), but I was young. I hope you enjoyed this. Please review, it's greatly appreciated.