Spooky Writing Contest 2017 A Wet Bulrush

DapperDogman

The Banished One
"I'm going out fishing tonight, don't wait up!" David shouted into the house as he left, pulling his coat a little tighter around himself as he headed toward the rickety dock on the edge of their property, sat at the bank of the old lake where he once played growing up. As a farmer, his youth was split between splashing in the lake, and helping his mother cooking, feeding chickens, and carrying pales full of milk into the house to be churned.

Now he was an adult, his daily life was more physical labor and less fun. No more days to splash in the water. No brother to do it with either, after his disappearance. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he clambered into the rickety old rowboat, and unmoored it from the dock, pushing off and letting the boat drift gently into the waters, before rowing out a few feet, and letting the boat simply drift along in the water.

He laid back, no intention of fishing for now, as he stares up at the stars "What a night for stargazing" he murmurs to himself, his tone hushed as if fearing someone might hear him. He let his hand emerge over the edge of the boat, feeling the bulrushes stroke against his fingertips as he drifted, the feeling calming to his troubled mind.

He gently wiped his hand against his shirt, and sighed, simply staring up at the stars a while longer, before noticing just how dark it seemed to have become, the stars the only light out, as a large cloud drifted over the moon, casting a deep shadow over the lake, causing its calm waters to become inky black as he felt a cold shudder run up his spine.

He lay in silent worry for a long few minutes, hardly daring to breathe until his chest grew tight, or his head faint. He was suddenly snapped to his senses by a large, wet bulrush sliding along his leg, and he let out a startled gasp, before chuckling at his own cowardice and closing his eyes. "What am I scared of, it's just a cloud, and a bulrush, nothing out of the ordinary for the lake"

Without realizing he fell asleep in his boat, the gentle sound of the waters lulling him into a dream. He dreamt of those sunlit days, with his brother, splashing in the waters at the edge of the lake. He then remembered throwing his brother's ball out into the lake by accident, and how he had tried to retrieve it, only to snag his foot on something. Before David could save him, he had vanished under the water, even with David's bravery to venture under the surface, he was nowhere to be seen.

He woke with a start as the waters grew chillier than death itself, making him gasp for air. Somehow, he had slept all night, and the sun was rising over the hill now, the boat long since having met with the shore on the other side of the lake.

"What a horrid dream" he murmurs as he sits up, noticing something on as he looked down. Crimson, dried blood lined the tips of his fingers, and on his leg, was a single, long, bloody handprint. As he turned and looked back along the shore, he noticed it. The shore on this side of the lake didn't have any bulrushes.
 
Well I was confused at what a bulrush was (in Texas we usually call them Cattails), but I liked the turn at the end. Very classic folk-style horror. I would say that it's not very unique on its own, but it holds merit as a story. The writing itself was very concise, easy to read, and it painted a good tone and story. I'm not sure how likely I am to remember it, but it's definitely well-written.
 
It was a plot I had as part of a series of short creepypasta like stories. So this was to set up a simple premise upon which to add bigger twists and plot implications. But by itself, I'll admit it was designed to be highly formulaic and ultimately not too out of the ordinary for a short horror story :)
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top