To see why I wrote this, look at: http://www.threewordwednesday.com/

It had been a long and unseasonably hot day.  The day came and went – as so many do – with little fanfare.  But to Bill Midland, the day couldn’t get over fast enough.  Bill was planning his first night fishing trip and couldn’t wait to get started.

Finally the work day ended.  His family was out of town and so with no obligations before him, he began to prepare for the big event.  By no means was Bill a seasoned fisherman, but he had his poles, some hooks; a flashlight for when it got dark and plenty of mosquito repellant.  All he needed to do was make a stop at the local store for some worms to use for bait and he had everything he needed.

Bill headed out to Wall Lake, which is about 15- 30 minutes away from his house.  It’s a beautiful lake that his girls and he found about a year before.  One area is reserved as a kind of a beach for those who want to swim and enjoy the day.  But if you traveled around towards the back, there is an area with a little dock as well as a small bridge that you can get up close and personal with the fish.

Bill got to that area right about sunset and began setting up.  He had decided that he was going to fish off the bridge.  It was relatively quiet with the exception of some cicada’s singing in the trees.  Bill felt the stress of the day wash away as the peacefulness of the lake flooded through him.

 Within a short time the line on his pole began to jump indicating that he had caught something.  Bill gleefully pulled his line in and grabbed a hold of his catch only to find that it was a… tennis shoe.  Annoyed, he pulled the shoe off and threw it to the side.  He put his line back out into the water again.

 As the darkness started to envelop the area, Bill felt another pull on his line.  “About time!” he thought to himself and began to reel it in again.  And again, he got a tennis shoe, the match to the first one. “What in the world?” he muttered.

 He tried again.  The area became even darker as the sun completely set. Bill began to consider just going home as he wasn’t catching anything when he felt his line tug again.  “Better not be another stupid shoe!” he said out loud.

 It wasn’t.  This time, it was a t-shirt.  A red and black one with some local band displayed on the front.  His heart skipped a beat as he noticed that the front of the shirt seemed to have a tear from the top of the right side of it to the bottom of the left.  A jagged tear; almost as if it had been done with a…fishing knife?

Realization washed over Bill in great waves.  Someone had been attacked out here.  Bill couldn’t bring himself to throw his line out into the water again for fear of what he might find.  The darkness seemed more menacing all of a sudden.

 Bill grabbed his equipment and began to move off the bridge.  As he walked quickly towards his car, he heard a soft voice seemingly coming from the water.  “oooh my next victim…”  Before Bill could react, a hand from the water grabbed his leg and pulled him over the bridge.

  1. ThomG Said,

    Doug, welcome to 3WW. The cool thing about this – and the suspense was great – was the fact that I was on that bridge on Monday. It made the story even creepier for me. Great pacing throughout. Nice read.

  2. Doug White Said,

    Thanks Thom, I appreciate it!

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