Jim Napier is a retired naval officer who plans a fishing trip to Platoon Lake with his grandson Reece, an amateur paranormal investigator. After encountering strange events on the way there, Reece begins to research the area and finds that hundreds...
Jim frantically backed away as Reece fell to the ground. "Oh my goodness! I killed him!"
"Gran, it was an accident."
"And do you think the court will care about that? This is a sheriff's deputy. The badge is the only thing that'll matter to them," Jim replied.
Reece took a closer look at Steve's body and noticed his white undershirt was covered in blood. His plaid shirt had blue ooze on the sleeves and his eyes were missing.
"What do you mean?"
Reece pointed to Steve's missing eyes and the blood which surely couldn't have come from hitting him as Jim was driving about 10-15 mph to begin with. There were strange tracks in the soil, giving the appearance of something large being dragged. The tracks stopped at the tree line and Reece watched intently. Hair stood up on the back of his neck as he was overcome with the feeling of being watched.
He reached into his pocket for his phone, turning on the flashlight. Slowly approaching the trees, his eyes darted back and forth for any type of movement.
"You see anything?" Jim asked in a near whisper.
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Reece didn't answer and continued. The light shined on the blue ooze that was concentrated on just one of the trees. He took a stick and gathered some for inspection. The tracks went deeper into the forest, and before he could continue forward, he saw something slithering out of the corner of his eye. He quickly ran back to the truck, throwing the ooze stick in the back.
"We need to get out of here," Reece said in a panic.
"What should we do with him?"
Reece pondered on the question and agreed that Jim would likely get charged with something.
"Grab his legs," Reece instructed, as they lifted his lifeless body up and threw him in the back of the truck.
Jim's shirt was caught in Steve's belt hook and ripped it as he pulled himself free. They drove back to Steve's truck and placed him in the driver's seat, making it look as though he died in a wreck. Jim quickly put the truck in gear and drove forward.
"We should go home now."
"If we do, that'll look suspicious. We have to continue our day like normal so there are no red flags. The next guy will come through and see him, but we'll already be at the lake," Jim explained.
"This is the worst trip ever," Reece replied.
The drive was silent for the next six minutes. Jim tapped his finger on the steering wheel, sweating underneath his cap. Reece looked out the window, constantly glancing at the side mirror to be sure no one was following. Nothing stirred in the darkness until the ground began to shake. The EMF meter began beeping and soon after, the sound of a large crash followed. Reece's eyes grow to the size of golf balls, but he contained his yelps as Jim shot him a look; watching for signs of cowardice.
"What do you think that was?" Reece asked, as he grunted and shifted himself in the seat.
"Oh, I know, nature! Or better yet, Bigfoot, the Lake monster!" Jim shouted tauntingly.
"So here it goes. Taking shots at my blog, is that it?" Reece asked, rolling his eyes at the anticipation of an argument.
"Your head is too far in the clouds. Your stories have made people afraid to come out here and fish! Four generations of Napiers have come here to fish and not one of us has been eaten by a sea monster or abducted by aliens! Let your imagination take a back seat to reality. There's nothing out here but fish and nature," Jim said.
"Grandpa, there have been countless reports of attacks in this area. Not to mention the three dozen bodies that just so happened to wash ashore over a period of four months. There have been photos of things out here that aren't exactly of nature," Reece said, strongly.
Jim grimaced so hard, his face turned red and veins protruded from his temples. "I just don't want to see our family tradition die with me! Your father and I used to come here quite often. I know that he shared that tradition with you; bringing you out here to fish as well. After he passed away, you and I made a promise to him, before pouring his ashes in the very lake we're going to, to stay a family. And that means, keeping up with our family traditions," Jim said, sadly.
Reece felt terrible. In all of his objections about Platoon Lake, he failed to realize how important it was to his family's history.
"I'm sorry Grandpa. You're right. I'm being immature and selfish," he said.
Jim placed his hand on Reece's shoulder; his way of letting bygones be bygones. Their moment of reconciliation was short-lived when Jim slammed on the brakes.
"Well, at least we know what thatsound was," Reece said, staring at a large pine tree laying in the middle ofthe road.
