SCARY STORY CONTEST
11-14 YEARS CATEGORY
SECOND PLACE
Fisher of Men
By Theresa Olsen, 13, Coquitlam
The stories of strange disappearances and horrifying monsters had hung like an ominous cloud over Hangman's Lagoon since before Sarah's grandparents' grandparents were born. Every year around Halloween they would spring up again, tales of malevolent spirits and carnivorous beasts. But they were just stories, right?
At least, that's what Sarah told herself as she walked through the thick mud and stunted trees that surrounded the pond. A friend had dared her to come here, late on Halloween night, and spend an hour enveloped in the putrid, thick air that enveloped the area, trying to catch one of the nasty beasts that supposedly lurked these waters. This was what she got for boasting about her prowess with a fishing rod. There was no way she would catch anything here; the only life other than her came in the form of slimy brown toads. It was more about not being scared though, than actually achieving anything. And if nothing else, Sarah would not come out of this looking like a coward.
But as she sat, shivering, on the raised root of a willow tree, she couldn't help but wonder if it would really matter if she left; no one was making sure she spent the hour actually at the lagoon. Irritated with her own irrational fear, she baited and cast her line, trying to distract her head.
After five minutes she grew fidgety. Her stomach growled and goosebumps ran all along her arms and legs. Thinking she might have brought something to eat, she looked hopefully in the tackle box and was pleased to find a shining green apple.
Turning back to the water, she took a big bite and immediately felt a sharp sting in her mouth. She spat out the half-chewed bite of apple, but the sensation remained. Feeling the roof of her mouth with her tongue, she had just identified whatever had pierced her as something thin and metal when her head was abruptly jerked forward, knocking her onto her stomach.
She started to scream as an unseen force began dragging her towards the swamp water, intensifying the burn in her mouth. Looking up through watering eyes, she saw a dark, monstrous figure standing in the centre of the pond, a long, familiar-looking tool clutched in it's hand.
Sarah screamed and thrashed, shrieking for help as she was dragged closer and closer to the beast until it's shadowed face loomed above her.
As a mouth filled with rows of serrated yellow teeth opened wide, she recognized the long pole held in its hand. A fishing rod.
