Echoes of Despair: A Short Story

Author’s Note: Hey there. Thanks for stopping by. I wrote this short story a few years ago and wanted to throw it up on the Substack. Hope you enjoy it.

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 3038

Reading Time: 12:46

Legends the world over pay credence to mirrors, but they always forget that any reflective surface, including water—be it a lake, river, or the whole damn ocean—can be just as powerful and twice as dangerous. A reflection is everything. Nothing can hide from its truth, not when it’s staring right back at you. I know this, which is why I never go into Lake Avernus on days I sketch.

Instead, I bring my charcoals and pad to the shoreline and draw beneath the dappled sunlight while there’s enough daytime to get any actual work done. I’m shit after 2 P.M. Today, I’ve got enough coffee in my oversized tumbler to spur an elephant. I’ll need it. Deadlines don’t set themselves.

“What do you think?” I glance at the labradoodle I’ve dragged with me. Ever since my ex left, it’s like she forgot dogs go outside and enjoy sniffing things. She’s too busy studying her new environment from our safe spot to actually explore it.

Cerberus lowers her head back onto the red and white checkered blanket, unimpressed. I swear sometimes she’s more cat than dog. After spending the first ten minutes getting the blanket just right, she’s moved onto watching where the forest meets the waterline. It’s probably just a passing lizard on a nearby log. Dogs.

Unlike my canine companion, I’m not as high maintenance. The grass poking through the fabric doesn’t faze me. It’s keeping us from getting bit by whatever creepie crawlies lie in wait. Cerberus, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.

Too bad I spent fifteen minutes digging through the back of my bedroom closet to get it. Ah well. It’s not all a loss. At least I got a chance to tear through the walk-in without giving two fucks about what broke. Most of it was my ex’s, and he ghosted me over four months ago.

Lake Avernus used to be our place. I’m half-amazed I can still come here without crying. One Friday night, we planned a picnic after work, but he never showed. I waited over four hours, called his cell—the whole nine yards. All I got was his voicemail and some food poisoning the next day.

It shouldn’t have surprised me; it wasn’t like it was the first time, but it was the last. Once the macaroni salad finished fucking my insides, I shoved everything he left into the back of our bedroom closet. His line disconnected after that night, a nice way of telling me to go fuck myself.

Here, I can bury as much shit as I want. A dog’s not gonna tell me otherwise. I could stay forever and nobody could stop me. It’s public property, after all.

After three years of hell, I’ve earned my right to peace. Here, there’s no fighting. No broken dishes at 2 A.M., no calling the police. It’s just… quiet.

Wherever he is, it serves him right.

I hope he’s gotten what he deserves—that somebody breaks him the way he broke me. At least then, I’d believe justice existed in this world. Instead, he’s probably off fucking some dope whore.

That’s what the fighting had been about. Catching him strolling in at odd hours, sleeping in the daytime, missing work, partying with strangers in our house—you name it. All while I worked to pay our bills. When I confronted him, he got belligerent and wouldn’t leave. Told me I could leave—that it was his name on the apartment lease.

With nowhere else to go or the money to break the lease, I stayed. I could survive six more months. Somehow. The picnic was supposed to be my last attempt at getting him to see the light. I bet the damned fool bailed when he realized why I was bringing him here. Clear and simple. No mystery there.

Now it’s just me, Cerberus, and Lake Avernus. I still think we got the better end of the deal. This place isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Most people avoid it. They’re too wrapped up in old wives’ tales to embrace it for what it’s worth.

I’m not scared of some bullshit story meant to scare away developers and whomever else might venture this way. That people go missing out here. If only.

The towering live oaks drowning in Spanish moss stop close to the lake. Almost like a buffer zone. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out. It’s just us and whatever dead things lurk beneath the lake.

I work for what feels like forever before getting up to stretch my legs. Ever since last summer when I tore my knee, it locks up if I linger in one position for too long. Frankly, if I do anything for more than a few minutes. I need to go see a physical therapist, but that takes money, so freelancing it is.

“What do you think, Cerberus?” I ask the napping labradoodle in vain.

Getting a wag is hard enough, let alone an answer. When my ex dipped, he conveniently forgot the dog I bought him for his birthday. She hasn’t forgotten it. I can’t say I fault her if she blames me for her canine trauma.

The sound of crunching branches in the distance refocuses my attention. I almost drop my tumbler. It’s one of those twelve-hour-style thermoses, which means the coffee’s still warm. I open the lid, take a swig, and admire my handiwork: a charcoal sketch of the lake in all its splendor.

Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark!

Dodging the canine linebacker before she takes out my knee and the artwork I’ve spent hours working on is impossible; we’re already there. The coffee and I come crashing down while she beelines for the lakeshore. Pain erupts from my knee, radiating out like a spiderweb. Fuck.

A high-pitched yelp hits my ears. I spin around, my hands buried in the thick grass. “Cerberus?”

From this angle, I can’t see anything. Shit.

I catch a glimpse of something rustling in the underbrush, but not enough that I can make it out. The blinding pain in my knee blurs my vision. How could something even hurt this much? “Cerberus, come here, girl!”

Silence.

I need to get to my feet. Being injured in the woods isn’t ideal. If she’s injured, we’re screwed. While this isn’t the first time I’ve trashed my knee like this, staying after dark won’t help the swelling. I grit my teeth and count through the pain. One.

“Hello? Anyone there?” I suck in a breath at my stupidity. Sure, talk to the serial killer or wild bear in the woods.

Two. The moment I put pressure on my leg, scorching fire rolls through my knee again. It’s fucked, but the barking has stopped. All that’s left now is a sickening, wet crunch echoing from somewhere in the treeline. Do bears exist out here? God, I hope not.

“Cerbs?” I keep calling like she’s going to answer, something far less clear with each deranged chomp coming from the treeline. Against my better judgment, I limp closer. Three.

I reach into the bramble, hoping to grab something—anything that could scare off a forest predator. The small rock I latch onto isn’t gonna cut it. Assuming it’s not a bear, I might have half a fighting chance. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it’s just a possum. I’ve never tried bashing in a head before, but I’m willing to learn new skills.

Four. My boots crunch in the dry grass. I make my way over to the small cut-through in the bushes; it’s full of unforgiving thorns and snaking vines, either of which could’ve cut Cerberus on the way through. Now, they’re doing their best at slicing my brown leggings. Good fucking luck.

These are some over-hyped brand Instagram influencers hock online. A brilliant marketing ploy—you can become anyone. All you have to do is give up who you are first.

And just like that, I’m wearing the stupid pants. What a stupid purchase. My dog sounds like it’s fighting Goliath right now in the middle of fucking nowhere and I’m thinking about my fucking pants. Another shriek-like bark erupts.

Tears flooding my eyes, I run. Stupid lake is haunted. I should’ve never come.

Five. I force my way through the bushes until I’m left standing on a small trail, too small for deer. Maybe for possum and other critters low to the ground. All I find is the mutilated carcass of some poor creature, a halo of blood draining from its entrails.

Please, God, no. “Cerberus?” I let out a low whistle and try to fight the bile in my throat rising with each second. Keep it together. It’s too small to be Cerberus.

Sunset is closing in much sooner than usual. “Where the fuck are you?”

Almost as if my poor girl understands, a bark echoes back the way I came. My heart pounding, I tumble over the bramble again, ignoring the pain spiraling up my thigh. Cerberus sits next to the shoreline, her paws lingering at the edge of the water. She keeps barking at something beneath the murky depths.

I drop the rock. Tears burn my skin, the air becoming far too acrid around here until it’s left dry and itchy. But I don’t peel my eyes off the dog. Not even for an instant. I do that and she’s liable to drown in this goddamn hell. Does she even know how to swim? We’d always meant to take her, but never got the chance. Fuck, I’m a terrible dog owner.

It’s like raising a toddler in Florida and not teaching them how to swim. The horrors of children drowning in pools while unassuming parents sit distracted on their phones. She’s my responsibility, and now she’s just sitting there, staring at the lake like she can’t look away.

The sun’s plunged beneath the horizon, pitching us into darkness. “Puppygirl?” I call out, using a nickname I haven’t spoken in years. Fear does that. The moment my hands reach her fluff, I collapse next to her, my breath rushing from my lungs. “Are you alright? You okay? Are you cut anywhere?” I scour her fur but can’t find anything except a few sticker burrs and other bramble. Nothing to write home about.

That’s now what bothers me; it’s the slow, robotic bark like a drumbeat that shoots lightning down my spine.

Bark.

My gaze follows her line of sight.

Bark.

She hasn’t peeled her eyes away from the lake for the past three minutes.

Bark.

I’ve got to go. It’s just a lake.

Bark.

Jesus Christ. There’s nothing there. Don’t lose your shit. I let go of her soft fur with a deep exhale; I’m not the best swimmer, but she’s not giving me a choice. Not unless I wanna fight a labradoodle in the near dark and drag her out of here by the collar. With my luck, she’d probably win.

“Fine.” I kick off my tennis shoes and socks, snatch up that rock a second time, and limp into the water. “There’s nothing there. See?”

Within seconds, it’s up to my ankles. It’s freezing for this time of the year, the sharp contrast lighting up my nerves. The opaque surface makes it impossible to see anything. I’m burning a hole in my eye, searching for whatever it is. I look back at Cerberus, impatiently waiting at the lake’s edge. It’s still here—whatever it is.

“You owe me,” I say and wade farther into the water. Looking back at her, I’m about waist-deep when I call it quits. God, I’m talking to a damn dog. “There’s nothing here. You satisfied yet?”

Bark.

Fine. I spin back around and that’s when I see it—a clear spot in the water. Almost like a spotlight gleaming from above, it pierces the water and illuminates everything in its tracks. What the hell? I glance up. There’s no sunshine, no moonlight cutting through the tree. Darkness has descended on this place.

When I look a second time, it’s only my reflection. With the strange light, the illumination is crystal-clear, almost like a mirror.

Jesus, I’m losing it. I need to get some sleep.

The woman staring back feels the same. Exhausted, burnt out, broken. Not even close to who or what I was. This reflection belongs to someone else. Now I’m someone grasping at straws for a life I want but will never have—my ex took everything from me.

This was supposed to be our haven away from everywhere and everyone. Somewhere we could stay forever if we wanted. There are enough empty lots on Lake Avernus that we could’ve built a home even. Then I’d never have to leave. We’d be safe. The water would protect us.

I close my eyes and take a breath. My heart rate hasn’t calmed; it’s still skittering away like a nervous kitchen mouse. It’s late. Maybe I should just camp here for the night and go home in the morning.

A nearby splash off to my left yanks my attention. The water settles like a fish or something has broken the surface. I glance back at my little haven of light, but my reflection is gone.

What the fuck? I spin around like a genius; the pondweed catching my legs. I wade around, but it’s pointless. No matter where I stand, even if I move somewhere else, it’s not there. What is going on?

Another splash.

“Cerbs? That you?”

The light’s all but faded, and I can’t make out anything but her reflective eyes in the distance. The sound of her tags clanking against her collar is the only guarantee I’m not losing my mind. “Let’s just go home,” I tell her and start towards the shoreline.

But I can’t. I’m stuck.

I’m not even a foot closer and the pondweed is already so dense my legs feel like they’re caught on something more than plantlife. The uneasiness I felt earlier roars back full force, doubling me over as I kick at the weeds. I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t right.

The object’s sturdy like a branch. I take a deep breath and reach beneath the dark liquid and wrap my fingers around whatever the fuck’s trapping me. A good yank or two and it springs out of the lake, the mud’s suction giving way as it splashes all around me. Long and thin, it’s contoured in the middle and thicker at the two ends, both of which are bulbous and smooth beneath the wet muck. Too smooth. I rub the stick free of the muck to see what’s underneath. It feels nothing like bark. Even after a long time, wood doesn’t feel like this.

And then the clouds pass over, finally letting a small amount of moonlight in.

There’s no mistaking the bright white in a place where it doesn’t belong. It’s a bone. Human by the look of it.

I drop the fucking thing like a snake and stumble backwards into the water. My hands sink in the mud that’s more dead than alive. Don’t think about it. For the love of God, don’t fucking think about it. Get out. Get out. Get out.

My knee screams beneath the surface, this fiasco angering it yet again. But the pain doesn’t register. My brain’s too busy trying to process the thing standing less than a stone’s throw away.

Something familiar, wearing a face I’ve seen every day since I was a child.

It’s… me.

My stomach drops. I hold my breath. There’s no way. No fucking way.

It stares at me, its same brown eyes dead-set on mine, and I don’t say a fucking word. I don’t have to.

“Hello, Paige,” it says, its voice indistinguishable from my own. “We’ve been waiting.”

I try to speak, but nothing comes out.

The doppelgänger smiles. “We are one now.”

My eyes widen as I creep back. The shore is close enough that if I can just grab Cerberus, I can get the hell outta dodge. Screw my stuff. I’ll replace it.

My throat tightens; it’s getting harder to breathe. I cough again and the doppelgänger notices. “Not anymore. Above the surface, you won’t survive.”

I’ve lost it—I’m out of my mind. Or maybe I’m sleeping. That’s it. It’s just a nightmare. All I have to do is wake myself up. My nails dig into my palms until blood erupts. Something—anything—to break this madness.

The creature wades in my direction; the water sluicing as it does. I screw my eyes shut. Wake the fuck up. This time I count to ten.

When I open them again, it’s not there.

It’s gone. Thank God.

Relieved, I sigh and turn back—No. My veins freeze the moment I look back into the water. The creature’s eyes twinkle beneath the surface. Run.

Its clawlike grasp latches onto my legs and pulls me in, its strength three times that of mine. With no gun and no knife, I’ve got no shot. It’s like fighting an angry grizzly bear when I’m a rabbit. Not a chance in hell.

I flounder beneath the surface, the dark murky waters enveloping me as the creature drags me under. My lungs burn; I’ve already taken in water. If I don’t get out in the next twenty seconds, I’m going to be this place’s next victim. So the stories are true. I was such a fool.

Kicking as hard as I can, I crest the surface for a second before we plunge back under. It’s not enough. My vision is getting blurry now. The pain in my temples lights me up like birdshot. It’s searing, blinding, and inescapable. Fuck. I should’ve never come here. I want to cry, but there’s no one to listen.

Nothing but the empty lake and the creature whose grip claims me for its own. I fight with everything I have until the tears come, disappearing into the rest of the lake. I look up above the water’s surface and can make out Cerberus for just a moment, my dog just out of reach.

The last thing I see as I sink beneath the depths of Lake Avernus is that of Cerberus sitting idly in the sand, her humanlike eyes twinkling with mischievous delight.

Bark.

THE END

© M. DYLAN BLAIR & MoodyCatMedia LLC 2023.

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