Tell The Story Challenge (Lake of Terror)

John has nominated me for this scary challenge. 👻 In his words, he called upon me to bring one of these critters to life! Oh mercy me! I don’t like scary monsters, but I did love to read about Nessie and Big Foot, etc when I was growing up. I do like a good challenge, so here I go….

But first before we begin, here’s a word from John himself:

I believe it’s time again!! So…. with Halloween upcoming, I’m picking some of my favorite monsters…

I’ve loved this guy since I was a kid!! Ole Nessie.. one day I’m going to see him. And ride him around the lake like a bucking bronco.

The Lizard Man from the swamps of sunny South Carolina! It’n he cute?? He’s real ya know….

—John the Eclectic Contrarian

Here’s my Nominees of who I’m calling upon to bring these scary things to life. But only if you are up to the challenge. It’s up to you.

Y’all go write a scary good story 😁

Debbie

Richard

Stu

Chelsea


Lake of Terror

She had not meant for this to happen. Had not planned it in this fashion, at all! But here she was anyways. Her worst nightmare come to life. Stranded. In a small wooden rowboat. Terrified! After dark. Far away from safety and the shore. She had been here before, but only in her reoccurring, nightmares! It was the worst scenario she could have ever imagined! No doubt.

WHAT WAS SHE GOING TO DO?!!! HOW WOULD SHE GET OUT OF HERE? Her thoughts screamed at her!….There were no oars.

The tears stung her eyes as they built up and spilled out from the dam hiding behind the water well. She was grasping at straws in her anxiety…. Feeling the panic dogging her, nipping at her heels like the Hounds of Baskerville. Straining to draw enough air into her lungs, as if through one of those figurative straws. Devising different strategies in mind, to get her out of this mess—she fought intensely to keep her wits about her—but she was slowly starting to lose it again!

Her heart launched the racing again. She felt the sickening nausea. The dizziness.. She was scared out of her mind and wanted nothing more than to escape this horrible place! You MUST stay focused! BREATHE Abbey! BREATHE!!! YOU’VE GOT TO STAY FOCUSED!!! She imagined in the voice of her therapist.

Inhaling air deeply into her nostrils, she slowly counted to 4—- 1….2….3….4….She held her breathe for the count of 7, and then exhaled slowly, blowing the air back out through her mouth. Pursing her lips slightly, her jaw struggled to relax. She could hear the soft “whooshing” sound as she exhaled, as if it were someone else…not her.

She had blacked out after the first panic attack. Had somehow woke up here. She could not let it happen again. Abbey, get it together girl! Her thoughts commanded, while shoving the same catastrophic fear and images out of her head. She mustn’t go there this time. She had to be strong. If she were to get out of this lake alive.

Face your fears. Face your fears. Her thoughts sing-songed to her at the beginning. She had decided to drive out to the lake and do as her therapist had suggested. If she were to ever get past these night terrors, she must.

There was an old boat that always stayed tied near the edge of the dock there. She would just sit there in the boat a few minutes, while the rope remained securely tied. Take a simple baby step in the right direction towards conquering her fears. It was still evening. Not dark yet. No need to panic.

She held on to the post as she firmly stepped down into the boat. Reaching down ever so gently, gripping the side of the boat, she planted her body onto the seat. She was there at least. A lump formed in her throat, and she tried in vain to swallow it down like a bitter pill. She decided to say those words aloud for good measure. “Face your fears, Abbey!” There. She had said them. It was done. She could go home now. Yes, small baby steps. It was enough that she had even gotten into the boat in the first place.

But then she had to doggone go and do it. Scanning out across the murky, dark water—against her will, against her better judgement, while searching for any sign of movement, a cricket quartet started up their band. Evening was quickly winding down. She had to get out of there. She had misjudged the time.

And before she could even will her feet to move, it happened ever so quickly actually. Something moved out across the water. She froze! Her eyes narrowed, squinting to discern what she had thought she had seen.

A glimpse of a shadow. Her eyes darted back and forth, surveying the incident. Those old familiar oppressive thoughts closing in on her from all sides. The black fearful thoughts threatening to engulf her. This had to be her imagination! It always seemed to get the best of her. Why, oh why could she not just get up and get out of there! Fear continued to grip her heart. She remained frozen in her seat.

There it was again. A lone figure. Dipping slightly beneath the surface and reappearing. She must be finally losing her mind! Its head turning her way, glaring right into her soul!

Her breathing turned into shallow quick breaths. A heart pounded out its distress signal—Fight or flight, it drummed, while she continued to gasp frantically for air. But none seem to fill her lungs. She was thrown right smack dab in the middle of a full-blown anxiety attack, right there in the worst place possible for it—the Loch Ness Lake!

For as long as she could remember, she had been afraid of the deep. Of water in over her head. Of the night. Of scary things that lay just beneath the water’s surface. Lying in wait, waiting to snatch her back down into its deep abyss. She had only wanted to prove that she could do it. Overcome the childhood memories of the time she had thought she was drowning.

Her dreams were full of strange happenings. Always near the water. In one of those dreams, she had been riding on the back of a pterodactyl. One minute she had been flying high into the air, and then the next, holding on for dear life as the prehistoric mammal dove just above the surface of the dark and scary waters. Something huge came up out of the water to the surface, but they zoomed over its head in the nick of time. She felt relieved and woke up from the nightmare. There were different ones. Alligators. Helicopters. Walking down into the waters against her will, as she helplessly screamed out in terror in most every single one of them.

And here she was, like an idiot! Far away from the shore. Like a blooming idiot! Recovering from the first black-out and managing to hold the second anxiety attack at bay. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. She continued.

Terror rose up again as the head surfaced very near the boat. But before she could completely lose it, once and for all, the dark eyes locked onto hers. They seemed to hypnotize her into a complete state of tranquility. Her body seemed to be in a state of rest, as Ole Nessie herself began to speak through her thoughts.

Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you. I will help you get back to shore. Lie back against the boat, and be still now. Nessie said.

Abbey could not explain it, but she knew that Nessie was a female—speaking to her in an ancient Celtic tongue of wisdom and comfort that only a mother could bring her. And there was no more fear. At last she felt safe, doing as she was told.

Lying back into the boat, Abbey had watched as Nessie pulled the boat’s rope towards the dock. The next thing she knew, Nessie came close to the edge, looking once again, deep into her eyes.

You are better now child. See? Nothing to worry about anymore, she spoke gently. You have faced your fears. With that, she released an audible cry out into the lonely night that only a lochness monster could make, and dove once more, down, down into the depths of her haven.

Abbey vaguely realized she was crying again. But somehow all had changed. The fear was now completely gone. The anxiety was gone. And so was Nessie. She woke up.

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