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Lost in the Dark
Chapter 3 - The Silent Fisher

Chapter 3 - The Silent Fisher

A towering figure loomed over him in the darkness, its form illuminated by what looked like a thread of pure light. The thread was suspended from a rod the figure held in its left hand. Its other hand gripped the man's back firmly. The figure stood nearly ten feet tall, its slender frame enveloped in a long yellow coat, with a hood drawn low over its face. Beneath the hood, a smooth, white mask covered its face, glowing in the threads light.

Its head tilted towards the man, bobbing up and down as if checking on him. The man drew a wheezing breath before he could speak. When he did, his voice was hoarse and strained.

“Th-thank... you...” he managed to say, counting the words more than speaking them. Still, he was relieved his vocal cords worked at all. The figure nodded and yanked the glowing line out of the water, wrapping it tightly around the pole. In the brief illumination, the man realized it was some kind of fishing rod and the glowing line was its thread. Just as this dawned on him, the glow abruptly vanished, plunging them both into total darkness.

“Wait,” the man shouted, panic rising as he was unable to perceive his surroundings. “Turn it back on. Please, I can’t see.”

There was a rustling sound before the figure produced a glowing cube from its coat. Very slowly, as if wary of startling the man, it lowered its arm until it was on level with the man's head. Thinking he was supposed to grab it, he reached out of it, but before he could wrap his fingers around it the fisher let go. Instinctively the man's eyes wandered downwards in an attempt to follow the cube, but to his surprise it just levitated in the air, a few inches away from his face. Its soft, but steady glow illuminated the figure. Now that he had a second to inspect his saviour further the man -he had decided that he would just assume the figure was a male - resembled a fisher. With the thread no longer glowing, the pole looked like an ordinary fishing rod, slung over the creature’s shoulder.

With a sudden jerk, the fisher set off,his long legs carrying both of them several feet with each step. Where the fisher’s feet touched the water’s surface, no ripples formed, dissipating into the distanc, with each step producing a gentle ‘plop’ as the water on the things shoe returned to the rest. The man's jaw dropped. The fisher was walking on the water as if it were solid ground. Befuddled by what he saw, he tried lowering his foot into the water, feeling it penetrate the surface easily. Instantly, he yanked it back, sensing the unnatural pull on his foot. It was then he truly gazed upon the liquid darkness beneath them.

The cube followed them, flying after them like a clingy pet and illuminating their surroundings. The man was glad that he could see but the sight to his feet deepened his unease instead of lifting it. The “water” for example was transparent and didn’t hinder the man from gazing into the sheer bottomless darkness beneath them. He gulped. Something about this felt deeply unnatural, like the world beneath them had simply forgotten to exist. And without the fisher, his corpse would be pulled towards whatever lay at the bottom.

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After a minute-long silent march, during which the man mostly avoided looking at the water, choosing instead to gaze at his savior, the cube's light finally touched mossy ground. The man's heart leaped at the sight. The shore was overgrown with the same yellow grass he had laid in earlier. Only at the very edge, where land met water, was the grass absent, giving way to bare, brown earth. It appeared that even the plants had learned to be wary of the strange water.

Only a couple steps away from the shore the fisher came to a halt and tossed the man ashore.

“Hey what are you, waaaaiiiittttt….ouch.” With a hefty thud the man landed on the grass, rolling over the ground. Like a dog the cube hurried to his side. He used his hands to push himself up again, or at least attempt it, but his soaked clothes pinned him to the ground. He looked up to see the fisher crouching down, to reach the level the man would be when he was standing. The yellow coat he wore hung to his sides into the water. Apparently it was only his feet that were confusing it with solid ground. Now that he had a bit of distance from his saviour, he could see just how gaunt he was. The entire figure looked as if someone had crafted a scarecrow with fishing motifs and simply breathed life into it. His fishing rod still hung lazily over his shoulder, with one end inside the man's hand and the other hanging almost 7 feet in the air. For a split second the man got a good view of the creature's mask and noticed the two minus-sign shaped holes that served as its eye slits. The light wasn’t strong enough to show him what laid behind them, but he was sure the creatures eyes were meeting his own.

“Thank you,” the man said, utelising both his arms to shove himself into a sitting position. It felt like he had put on 150 pounds but he managed to do it. The creature nodded as a respons before standing up and turning around.

“Wait!” The man shouted with a hint of panic in this voice. “Don’t leave me alone. I can’t…” He fell silent as the figure’s upper body wung around. With a slow motion it laid a finger to where its mouth would be under the mask and shook its head. The man took the hint.

“But…,” he muttered weakly. “... I have no idea what I should do now.” Despite his low volume the fisher seemed to understand him. He extended the figner he had pinned to his face and pointed over the man's left shoulder. The man turned around, saw nothing in the weak light emanating from the cube and turned back around. The fisher arm hung limp to his side.

“You say I should go this way?” The man asked, earning a simple shrug from the fisher. The man furrowed his brow.

“Is this way safe?” The figure shook his head.

“Is there even a safe way?”Another shake of the head. The man sighed.

“I am going to die, aren’t,” He said more to himself. “Guess it’s doomed. Thanks for your effords anyway.” To his surprise the fisher's reaction to his self-pitying muttering was another shake of his head. The man giggled. “At least one person is rooting for me.” The fisher shrugged behore turning heel and strolling into the darkness that laid out of the cubes reach.