fandomsecrets | [ SECRET POST #2709 ]

⌈ Secret Post #2709 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 02 pages, 041 secrets from Secret Submission Post #387.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I walk down the path exploring the forest - rather take my chances with the wolves than with the creepy ghost house.

In my handy back pack, I have placed these items from the trunk of the car: a flashlight, some power bars, a bottle of water, a hammer, and a tiny airline bottle of rum.

I hear the faint gurgling of a stream. As I continue down the path, it gets nearer, and I find myself on a wooden bridge spanning a creek. It's not a large one, only a few feet wide and very shallow; it bubbles over the rocks making a noise that would be pleasant any other time, but now just makes me nervous because it makes it harder to hear the rest of my surroundings.

The bridge is about 10 feet long because the creek is down in a small ravine. I pause on the bridge, thinking about whether I'd rather follow the stream or stick to the trail, when I hear something coming from underneath the bridge. It sounds like...a voice.

I back up to the creek bank, pull out the flashlight, and shine it under the bridge. The darkness under the bridge seems to eat the beam of light. I can see nothing.

I feel the first true pangs of fear as I inched closer, and the darkness seemed only to press harder against my feeble flashlight beam and consume it. Soon I was as close as I dared be, and there was simply...nothing...between myself and the bridge wall, as far as I could tell. In fact, I couldn't even see the bridge wall - was it really there?

I couldn't take it any longer. I took a step back to get as far from that horrible darkness as I could, and no sooner had I done so than a crayfish pinched me on the heel.

I feel back in the creek, yelping and soaking my shorts, and before I even had a chance to right myself, I heard the voice again.

"WHO GOES THERE?"

Okay. Now I'm pissed off. I've been assaulted by foodstuffs, my panties are wet (and not in the good way), and my tail bone will be sporting a pretty fantastic bruise come morning.

"Who goes there?" I say. "Where are we? Elizabethan England?"

I try to stand, slipping against the rocky river bed, cold water dripping from my pants.

"YES?!" croaks the voice, confused.

Well done, nonnie.

LOL

[ SECRET POST #2709 ]

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