The Cabin At Lost Lake

The Cabin At Lost Lake

“Did you see that?” gasped Don.

“What is it now? You’ve been jumpier than a cat on a hot tin roof since we got here!” Jim complained as he prepared his rod for fishing.

“I tell you there someone out there! I just saw him!”

“Probably nothing. Get ready so we can get out there and slay some big ones.”

“I’m staying here until the sun’s up.”

“There’s only one boat, dufus. If you stay, then I have to. What’s got into you? We’ve been fishing at dawn before, and you never had any problem with it.”

“I tell you this place has creeped me out since we got here!”

Jim looked around the cozy if rustic cabin.

“Why?”

“I’ve been hearing and seeing things that ain’t right, since we arrived.” Jim stared.

“Suit yourself, but I’m going. I like the quiet and peace of predawn.

“Come pick me up when the sun’s full up, okay?” Don asked.

Jim shook his head, gathered his gear and headed for the lake. Don sat there, wide-eyed and alert until he fell back to sleep on the bed. By the time the sun blasted in the window, Don was up and had prepped his gear.

“Hope Jim remembers to pick me up,” he muttered as he took himself down to the shore.

To his astonishment, the boat was still there, but Jim wasn’t. Don shaded his eyes and looked out into the lake. Something was hanging off the stick that was planted in the bottom of the lake that you could tie your boat to.

Don jumped into the boat, started the motor and roared out to the stick. His shriek echoed around the lake when he saw it was Jim hanging by his neck on the stake.