Lake of the Lost (Pending Title)

Part 1

Even while on his way to the lake, Victor could not remember making the decision to partake in what, to him, was an involuntary trip. His location, wherever it may have been, was unknown to even himself. Victor looked down upon his hands, at his watch, ticking away. The last time he can recall doing so was in writing a letter of resignation to his employer at the pipeworks. Recalling this event, his hands look far more aged and frail than they had when writing his letter. 'How long had it been since that day?' Victor asked himself to no response. 'What has happened to me since that day?' Victor asked himself again to no response at all. Not even the world around him would give but a whisper in either ear for Victor to piece together his situation. He was utterly alone and lost on a placid island among the black seas of infinity, from which he couldn't find himself a way back to reality.

Working the pipeworks was a physically grueling job for a man with the scrawny disposition of Victor. Working alone with his ankles deep in the frothed waters of another man's refuse, Victor would often hear the moaning of pipes all around him. The dim light fashioned upon his helmet picked up very few of the dark things that lurked with him down there in the pipeworks. One of the most foul things Victor found down in those putrid depths was that of a colony of dead rats, dead one and all, and above them was the etchings of words most untidily slashed into the wet bricks.

'The Lake Holds Secrets

Not Meant to be Known

Stay Away

Or Ye Mind Shall Atone.'

Ever since that day, however long ago it was, Victor would find new rhymes scribbled down on the walls, and more dead rats filling the space between his feet. All the while he would continue to travel deeper and deeper through the pipes, on the hunt for more sights such as those to behold. His curiosity had guided him like a shepherd to the grossest crannies in the pipes. Victor's mind would lead him mindlessly through the corridors, seeking something to find. It was in one room that he was led too far into, and he discovered a body, dead, human, sitting upright against a wall so black it was made with a shadow. The pipes hummed and groaned to Victor, bringing him in closer. The water stream flowing through the pipes all seemed to be coming from behind the body. Too far into this mindless mess of tunnels of and pipes had victor gone and it stopped looking man-made. Instead, the walls around him looked more like the insides of a tree, or something of that nature. In those conditions so unbearable was where Victor decided to formally send in a resignation to the pipeworks. He looked down upon his hands, at his watch, ticking away, and remembered the etchings on the wall. Victor remembered the Lake, and then he was there.

How Victor found himself on route to the lake, he could not determine if it was his body leading him there despite his mind warning him of danger, or if it was his minds gross need to explore as he did in the caves and his body was attempting to hold him back. It just as easily could have been either, for Victor had been warned about the lake, but had a curious mind just the same. Nonetheless, Victor was walking down a path of uncertainty until he soon approach what he had set out to find: The Lake.