By the Lake
by Marius Müller (as Eldridge Murray) (2015)
Genres: Horror

An entry in ShuffleComp: Disc 2. Inspired by "The Ghost Who Walks" by Karen Elson.

action: %
response: WARNING! This is not a nice game.
This is your favorite place.
A small, almost forgotten lake just outside the city limits. His parents own the cabin here, but they never go here. And you have to look for it, deep in the wood, so nobody ever comes here.
But even though he's here, lying beside you in the tall grass, you
can still feel work in your bone. It's only Tuesday, and your eyes are already dry, your shoulders clenched, and the spot where the headset grabs onto your head has turned into an annoying small red dot. You rub it absent-mindedly and look at him. He seems distracted today, distant somehow.
"Thanks for picking me up, honey."
He nods and stares up at the full moon.
"Are you allright?"
He raises his hip awkwardly and rummages around in his pocket. As you watch, a small shiver runs down your arms. It's been a warm June day, and you're still only wearing your t-shirt. He rolls over, his eyes warm and kind, and raises the knife.

You feel the the knife plunge deep into your chest - sudden, burning, confused pain. You scream out and he rolls over and covers your mouth, his calloused, warm hand terribly familiar. You try to writher away from under him, but all strength has left you, and you want to scream, to bite, but you can just wriggle helplessly. Tears burn in your eye and you choke on something metallic and viscous. And then you don't wriggle anymore, your legs go numb, and you feel your useless heart still pump blood through the hole in your chest. He looks at you, and above the hands that killed you his eyes are calm and friendly. "I'm sorry, dear" he whispers. "I just don't love you anymore."
You look up at the moon, that old mistress, that has looked down on all our wars and all our blood, but there is no dignity in death. He crinkles his nose and you feel the warmth spread from your crotch down your leg. And then it ends.

But you can't go on.

The Grass is long and wild, and apruptly turns into a sandy beach to the north. In the moonlight everything appears gray, ominous.
There is a dark, wet spot in the grass, and from it drag marks lead west.
action: About you
response: You look like you did when you died, clean sneakers, jeans, t-shirt. The fabric of your t-shirt is torn and bloody on your chest.
action: Xyzzy
response: You blink. You were distracted for a moment, lost in thought. You
look again, at your hands and the shovel.
action: You look at the shovel
response: You remember buying this at the hardware store, sad with the realization you had to kill her.
action: About you
response: Women really dig this look, but you never really cared for it.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a shovel
action: Go east
response: The Grass is long and wild, and apruptly turns into a sandy beach to the north. In the moonlight everything appears gray, ominous.
There is a dark, wet spot in the grass, and from it drag marks lead west.

You can see Alexa here.

> X ALEXA

You can't see any such thing.
action: Go north
response: The wooden pier extends a few yards into the lake. Looks like some repairwork has been done on it recently, as the outer end looks new and shiny in places.
Out in the lake, in silhouette, the island is barely visible.

A nail gun is sticking up, front forward, between the boards.
action: You get the nail gun
response: Taken.
action: You examine the nail gun
response: From what you can tell, it's in working condition. The battery light is glowing faintly.
action: Go north
response: You take a step off the pier, fearing for a second you'll just sink into the lightless depths. But you sort of hover over the lake. Not at all unpleasant. You cast a last look down before going on.
And something looks back. A white face, beneath the pier, hands reaching up. For a second, a voice, distant, like through rain

"You weren't ... the first. Avenge us. You can't touch ... can't
see, but you can ... possess."

The woman sinks, sinks. Is gone. You continue on.

It's very small, you can cross it in three quick steps. It's covered in some vegetation.

There is even a small tree here.

The main attraction is the fire pit, which seems to see regular use.

A pile of junk sits besides the fire pit.
action: You go to the west
response: The woods begin here, dark and impenetrable.

The headlights of the car illuminate the scene with the merciless glare of a medical lamp.

He stands here, and digs.

Your body lies here, crumpled, with dirt in its hair.
action: You examine the body
response: They say sleeping people are beautiful, and you always thought that was a lie. Sleeping people are ugly. And that's how you look, one eye half-closed, the other staring mindlessly, mouth slightly agape. Your torso a mess of blood, with something blue shimmering inside the wound. Ugly.
action: You examine the blue
response: Some unthinkable part of your viscera. You clench your hands as you remember the pain. So sudden, so severe.
action: You examine him
response: You used to gently mock his hipster looks, the weird, spotty beard, checkered shirts and cord trousers. And the scene is so surreal. It's like an ad. The shovel, the small hole before him. And now you hate him. Everything about him. You want to see him suffer.
action: About you
response: You look like you did when you died, clean sneakers, jeans, t-shirt. The fabric of your t-shirt is torn and bloody on your chest.
action: You say boo
response: (to He)
You want to scream at him, ask for answers, curse him for all eternity. But it's useless. He isn't able to notice your presence.
action: East
response: The Grass is long and wild, and apruptly turns into a sandy beach to the north. In the moonlight everything appears gray, ominous.
There is a dark, wet spot in the grass, and from it drag marks lead west.
action: North
response: The wooden pier extends a few yards into the lake. Looks like some repairwork has been done on it recently, as the outer end looks new and shiny in places.
Out in the lake, in silhouette, the island is barely visible.

A nail gun is sticking up, front forward, between the boards.
action: North
response: You take a step off the pier, fearing for a second you'll just sink into the lightless depths. But you sort of hover over the lake. Not at all unpleasant. You cast a last look down before going on.
And something looks back. A white face, beneath the pier, hands reaching up. For a second, a voice, distant, like through rain

"You weren't ... the first. Avenge us. You can't touch ... can't
see, but you can ... possess."

The woman sinks, sinks. Is gone. You continue on.

It's very small, you can cross it in three quick steps. It's covered in some vegetation.

There is even a small tree here.

The main attraction is the fire pit, which seems to see regular use.

A pile of junk sits besides the fire pit.

A mouse runs out from the undergrowth and sits by the fire pit.
action: Possess mouse
response: There's something in the mouse - quick, alert, and scared, so scared, always scared - but you manage to wrestle control from it. The world seems gargantuan and hostile. It takes a moment to get your bearings. Four feet, the unconsciously swishing tail. The heart, hammering so fast inside your chest.
action: You examine the junk
response: There is a huge heap of discarded food wrappers, beer cans, used napkins and the like beside the fire pit.
action: You climb tree
response: You are on the branch overlooking the fire pit.

An old bird's nest sits here.
action: You examine the nest
response: It has been long abandoned.
action: Down
response: It's very small, you can cross it in three quick steps. It's covered in some vegetation.

There is even a small tree here.

The main attraction is the fire pit, which seems to see regular use.

A pile of junk sits besides the fire pit.
action: You look at the pit
response: In the fire pit are a nest and a lighter.
action: Burn nest
response: This dangerous act would achieve little.
action: Possess lighter
response: You quickly dart from the mouse into the lighter.
You touch the lighter. There is that familiar scraping of the flint and a small spark, but the nest is not really dry enough on its own to catch fire.

You quickly dart back into the mouse.
action: You examine the junk
response: There is a huge heap of discarded food wrappers, beer cans, used napkins and the like beside the fire pit.
action: You search the junk
response: After nosing around in it for a bit, you discover a small bottle of lighter fluid. It's hard work, but you manage to pull it out of the junk with your teeth.
action: You put the bottle in the pit
response: (first taking bottle of lighter fluid)
It's too heavy.
action: You examine the pit
response: In the fire pit are a nest and a lighter.

> JUMP ON BOTTLE

You jump on the bottle and a little lighter fluid flies into the pit.
action: Possess lighter
response: (the lighter)
You quickly dart from the mouse into the lighter.
You touch the lighter. There is that familiar scraping of the flint and a small spark, and the fluid lights up instantaneously. The nest catches fire, and soon there is a nice fire going in the pit.
There is movement at the shore. A figure appears on the pier.
You leave the mouse and it darts away.
action: You go south
response: The wooden pier extends a few yards into the lake. Looks like some repairwork has been done on it recently, as the outer end looks new and shiny in places.
Out in the lake, in silhouette, the island is barely visible.

Paul stands here, looking wearily at the fire on the island.

A nail gun is sticking up, front forward, between the boards.
action: Possess gun
response: He is about to turn back as the nail hits him in the Adam's apple. He stands for a second, and slowly grabs his throat like a surprised baronet in a soap opera. He takes one step forward and slowly turns on the spot. Blood gushes down his shirt with every heartbeat, statisfyingly black and plentiful. He falls forward, chipping one of his teeth on the wood.
You kneel beside him, wishing you could pick up that little bit of enamel as a memento.
It takes him a few minutes to die, and you idly wonder if he will go on, or if he will have to stay, like you. Maybe for people like him death is the only exit there is.
You look up, at the moon. The lake is silent.
action: You possess him
response: You touch him, but there is something in him - warm, protective, fierce - and you shrink back.
action: Go west
response: The woods begin here, dark and impenetrable.

The headlights of the car illuminate the scene with the merciless glare of a medical lamp.

Your body lies here, crumpled, with dirt in its hair.
action: Possess body
response: You really don't want to try that. What if you cannot leave?
action: Possess car
response: You touch the car, and it suddenly honks. He looks up, startled. For a few seconds he stands, breathing open-mouthed. Then he shrugs and gets back to digging.
action: Yes
response: cheapglulxe quit with exit status: 0