As Mark drove, the rhythmic hum of the engine filled the cab, accompanied by the faint strains of classic rock playing from the truck’s old radio. Kevin and the others in the backseat were having the time of their lives, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating as they let loose. Kevin led the charge, his infectious energy spreading to the others as they laughed, sang along to the music, and even attempted a bit of dancing despite being buckled in. Tom and Jack joined in, their off-key singing only adding to the fun, while Jessica and Sarah clapped along, their spirits lifting with each mile.
Mark glanced in the rearview mirror, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The sight of his friends goofing off in the backseat was a welcome distraction from the weight on his own shoulders. He kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested on Ethan’s knee, offering silent comfort. Ethan, who had been staring out the window, lost in thought, turned to Mark and gave him a small, grateful smile.
“You doing okay?” Mark asked, his voice low enough not to interrupt the fun in the back.
Ethan nodded, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… you know.”
Mark squeezed his knee gently, his eyes back on the road. “We’ll get through it. Together.”
Ethan nodded again, his hand covering Mark’s for a brief moment before he returned his gaze to the passing landscape. The familiar sight of rolling fields and dense woods was a stark contrast to the urban sprawl of Ethan’s neighborhood, but it felt more like home to him now than anywhere else.
As they neared their destination, the truck fell quiet, the excitement in the backseat slowly giving way to anticipation. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. Mark turned off the main road onto a gravel path that led to the lake, the crunch of stones under the tires breaking the silence.
Finally, they arrived at the parking lot, which was little more than a dirt clearing surrounded by tall pines. Mark pulled into a spot near the edge, the lake just visible through the trees. The water was calm, its surface reflecting the orange and pink hues of the setting sun.
“All right, everyone out,” Mark said as he killed the engine.
The group piled out of the truck, stretching their legs and breathing in the fresh air. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, mixed with the faint, fishy smell of the lake.
They gathered their things from the truck bed—fishing rods, tackle boxes, and the cooler—and made their way to a small wooden shack near the edge of the parking lot. The shack was weathered and old, its wood darkened with age and covered in patches of moss. A crooked sign above the door read “Fishing Permits,” the paint faded and peeling.
As they stepped inside, they were greeted by a dim, poorly lit interior. The air was cool and musty, and the only source of light came from a few flickering bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The walls were lined with shelves filled with old fishing gear, nets, and other equipment, all covered in a thin layer of dust. But what caught their attention were the trophies—the monstrous fish mounted on the walls like grim decorations. Some were easily recognizable, like the massive bass and pike with their sharp teeth and glassy eyes. But others were far more bizarre, with twisted bodies and grotesque features that made them look more like creatures from a nightmare than anything found in the lake.
At the back of the shack, a large fish tank sat on a wooden counter. Inside, several fish glowed with an eerie luminescence, their scales shimmering in shades of blue, green, and purple. The glow cast an otherworldly light around the tank, adding to the unsettling atmosphere of the shack.
Ethan was immediately drawn to the tank, his eyes wide with fascination. He leaned in close, watching as the fish swam lazily through the water, their glowing bodies leaving trails of light in their wake.
