Asylum Lake by R. A. Evans Read Free Book Online

The storm had finally broken and sheets of raining were ricocheting off the lake’s choppy surface. The water ran from his hair and into his eyes nearly blinding him to the cries of his friend. As he felt the air rush back into his lungs he responded to Jeff’s calls with a stuttering whisper that was no match to the sound of the wind blowing across the lake, “H-h-ee-re. O-ov-e-rr…he-e-re.”
    Without warning, the lake reconsidered and, with its icy tentacles, pulled Brady back down beneath its surface. What little air was left in his lungs emerged as a silent bubbling scream as he struggled against the force that was pulling him deeper into the inky blackness. His last thought before giving into whatever awaited him at the bottom of Asylum Lake was of April…the taste of her cherry Chap Stick …and fireworks.

    The clouds, which had hung gray and threatening most of the night, fully opened above him, sending sheets of rain across the once placid surface of the lake. The drops washed over Brady and traced salty lines as they ran down his face. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and shook his head in disbelief as he realized the rain was mixed with his tears.
    Brady turned to find Gruff standing in the shallow waters near the shore. The dog’s tail was tucked and its eyes were locked onto some distant point out on the horizon. Brady could read the anxiety in Gruff’s body language. A slow and silent spark of lightning arched through the clouds overhead, and for the briefest of moments the Asylum across the lake stood illuminated against the menacing backdrop of the surrounding hills and trees. The sight made Brady’s skin crawl.
    The feeling was familiar and it brought his thoughts back to that night on the float, and more specifically to what he had experienced beneath the waves. Quickly, his thoughts jumped forward to the next thing he had remembered after surrendering to the cold darkness of the water – waking up two days later at a hospital in Traverse City, courtesy of a twenty-five minute aero-med flight. The helicopter ride and everything else in between and right after was lost or at least buried in a way that he hadn’t quite found a way to uncover…yet. It gnawed at him from just below the surface of his memory.
    Maybe this journey would be little more than a failed attempt to reconcile himself with the painful memories from his past but, as he stood at the end of the dock and gazed out through the wind and rain of a summer storm into the muted grays of the midnight hour, Brady felt both oddly cleansed and at the same time as if he were on the verge of something great…and terrible. It brought neither a feeling of fear nor comfort, but turning to make his way back to the Up North House, he knew at least the few remaining hours of this night would be filled with dreams of a far happier and less complicated time.
    As Brady began the trek back from the sandy beach, he was unaware that his was not the only spirit searching for answers and in need of cleansing. Mere yards away, strewn along the rocky and forgotten bottom of Asylum Lake, the unremembered were growing restless.

    November 2, 1971
    Bedlam Falls, MI

    Blood spilled by violence leaves a stain far different from blood which is shed in any other way. As Lionel stood on the tips of his toes at the kitchen sink, he was surprised by how much more difficult blood was to wash away than the dirt he was accustomed to. The dish rag had done little to clean the gore from beneath his fingernails. It had taken a fork from the drawer to scrape most of it out. As for the streaks and spatters that coated his forearms, neck and face - they seemed to be a lost cause. Lionel had considered showering, but that would have meant removing what was left of Mrs. Reed from the bathtub. In the end he did what he could with a wet towel and decided not to worry about the rest.
    Not that the mess was limited to the kitchen; bloody tracks led from one end of the