A friend made the comment to me “see what the power of the dark side can do” in relation to a different story I wrote. Now I say in return, I think this story may just be more sinister, but you haven’t seen my real dark side yet. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Carver’s Lake as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Go on, get stuck into the conclusion. Happy reading, Duane. 🙂
Andrea was smiling. ‘Then you’ve nothing to lose. Tell me about the story in the paper.’
Mitchell tried very hard to focus his eyes. Two Andreas were becoming four. He didn’t have very much longer at all before he fell into unconsciousness.
‘You’re going to be my thirteenth kill. I’m the one the police call ‘The Tiffany Torturer’. It’s not a particularly good moniker. I never tortured any of those women. Just proposed and killed. And you thought you were coming out here with Mr Nice Guy. The best you could do was sedate me. Were you planning on what, raping me, Andrea?’ His laugh echoed across the lake.
Andrea continued to smile while Boyd was giving a brief explanation of his exploits. She even continued to smile while he insulted her. Rape was never on her mind.
‘Ah, Mitchell, there’s so much more than sedative in that champagne. Seeing as though you’re also on your way out, I’ll share with you.’ She watched him lean forward a little and then correct his posture. He needed to appear as though he was still coherent and responsible for his actions, but it was becoming harder to do.
‘You see, Mitchell, the sedative is a special mix, just for me. It also contains a potent cytotoxic poison. A bit like snake venom or some of the drugs they use in chemotherapy. It’s eating its way through your central nervous system. It’s a neurotoxin. You’re going to completely collapse, in agony, very soon. And then you’ll die.’
She smiled smugly at Mitchell Boyd. The man clearly thought he was a scary guy. Andrea, however, was neither scared nor intimidated by him. Not after everything she had done and seen.
‘Mitchell, have you been following the reports of all those missing young men?’ She gasped. It was getting harder to breathe, harder to live.
He tried to nod, but the pain in his head was intense, although not quite as bad as the pain that was spreading through his body.
‘You’ve taken thirteen lives, including mine. But I, Mitchell, I’ve taken thirty-six, and all of them are in the lake below us. Carver’s Lake is my own personal dumping ground, and you’re going to join them tonight.’
At first, Mitchell didn’t quite understand what Andrea was telling him. The drug was clouding his reasoning and comprehension, but slowly, as he waited for her to continue, he began to realise what she was saying. Thirty-six missing men were below him, in the lake, dead. He would be thirty-seven.
Andrea watched as the realisation spread across his face. He understood what she had done. He wanted to fight against her, but the drug was too powerful.
‘It’s ironic, isn’t it Mitchell? That two of this state’s most hunted serial killers should end up out here, together, with the same thought in mind.’
He shrugged, ‘I guess we’re just lucky.’
Mitchell knew he was taking his last breaths. He could feel how laboured his breathing had become, hear his slowing heartbeat in his head. His only recompense was the knowledge that Andrea would not be able to row back to the jetty in time to get help for herself. She would die out here with him. If he could hold on until she bled out and died in front of him, he would be happy.
The blood was warm as it ran through her fingers. Mitchell was indeed correct. He had deftly thrust his knife into her abdomen, and she thought he had done more than lacerate her liver. Andrea felt like Boyd had ripped it apart. The pain was excruciating, but what scared her most was the tangible feeling of her life slipping away from her. Any minute now, she would simply stop living. In this moment, Andrea knew what those thirty-six young men had felt, looking into her eyes as they exhaled for the very last time.
She turned away from Mitchell, and took in a last view of Carver’s Lake. It had been her constant friend. Its dark depths held onto her secrets, never revealing them to anyone. The moon, reflected on the water, shimmered as a slight breeze brushed the surface. It was a comfort for Andrea to be here as she waited for her life to end. Despite her adversary sitting across from her, it was still the most calming, the most serene, and the most beautiful place Andrea had ever seen.
Carver’s Lake was as much a part of Andrea, as she was a part of it. She thought back to the stories her father had regaled her with, about the early Carvers and their arrogance and bloodlust. It was these stories that first piqued Andrea’s interest in the macabre. She wanted so much to join the ranks of the old-school Carvers. It had become her life’s work, and she finally felt that she had achieved that goal.
Taking advantage of Andrea’s lapse of concentration, and gathering the last of his strength, Mitchell picked up the champagne bottle and swung it violently at her head. It connected with a dull thud, and Andrea was thrown overboard, into the lake. He collapsed in a heap as she fell, his last breath exhaled as Andrea sank into the dark water. She had taken her thirty-seventh, and he, his thirteenth.
Andrea felt nothing as Carver’s Lake consumed her. Her blood flowed into the water as her heart beat its last rhythm, her eyes ever open to the depths of the lake. She was, at last, home amongst all except one of her boys, in her beloved lake. With her last breath, Andrea invited the lake into her lungs, and gave herself over to her sanctuary. Carver’s Lake had given her so much in life, and now, in death, Andrea gave her everything to the lake. The last of the Carver family line, Andrea was the last secret that Carver’s Lake would keep for the family.
. . . The end . . .