The Story of Dismal

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1) - The Sabotage

Submitted: March 19, 2013

Reads: 74

Comments: 3

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Submitted: March 19, 2013

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I left the fire to find some more wood. I had cooked my fish and eaten it all in a matter of seconds. I was still hungry though, I knew that I was going to get some more food soon.

I came across a big fallen tree that was going to make great firewood. I was breaking the first stick off the branch when all the birds in the surrounding trees simultaneously flew away. I looked up just in time to see a dead squirrel fall on me. It was a healthy brown squirrel before it died. It had a long slit all the way down its belly and a partially skinned back. I looked inside the hole in its stomach and saw fresh meat. I was sad that it had died, but I was starving.

I grabbed the sticks and the squirrel and returned to my fire. I gasped when I got back. The fire had been extinguished. My fish knife was covered in blood and stuck in a log. Since I had left not 10 minutes ago, something or someone had ruined my campsite. I dug around in the soot of the burned out fire to look for an ember. Just when I gave up, I noticed that all the ashes were wet; water had been poured on it. The small few pieces of tinder I had was also soaked through.

I decided to re-take inventory of my belongings. The Muskie was still there, its seats still filled with cotton. I still had both of my ropes, my bow, and the stick and bark I had used to start the fire, and the gasoline jar. My hooks were still there, plus the bobbers, but the other knife was missing. I climbed up the tree that I was camping in and saw the lantern, and the rifle. I also saw the other knife placed on top of a pile of gunpowder and all of the bullet shells but nine. The remaining bullets were untouched except for a small incision made near where the shell and the bullet connected. I took as much as I could of the gunpowder as I could, opened the DIY pole repair kit, and dumped the materials out. Then I put the gunpowder in the plastic bag and placed it in one of the compartments of my tackle box. As for the DIY kit, I put the pieces of it into another compartment and closed the tackle box.

After I put the 9 bullets back in the box, I sat with my back against the tree and watched the sun begin to fall below the horizon. I ran through the day’s events with a sigh and a growl. Someone had purposely tried to sabotage me. 


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