[ IP ] Sinking

`` So, enjoying the outdoors so far?'' 
 
 Mark smiled and nodded, looking around at everything his eyes could take in, the lush green forests peeking off to the side, where the occasional fur of a wolf or a bear would pass by before disappearing once more into the trees. Up ahead was a mountain, and if he squinted, he could just barely make out the shapes of the climbers and the small cabins and huts, set up as rest stops and information places. 
 
 And last but not least, there was the water. Oh, the water! Even though he could smell the toxic chemicals that frothed from the factories they drove by hours earlier, this water was clear, a magnificent shade of blue, not too dark, not too light. Fish darted to and fro, and Mark followed them, the dumbfounded grin still there. He turned back to his friend, Carl. 
 
 `` Yeah,'' he said. `` Yeah, I'm liking this a lot.'' 
 
 The next few hours passed in gentle nothingness, Mark lost track of the fish, and was shocked to even see a bear come out of the woods, in search of them. Carl joined him in admiring the wilderness, pointing out the occasional eagle. Their other friend, Sammy, sat closest to the cooler they had brought with them, and took hearty sips of beer. 
 
 `` I wish I coulda done this when I was, like a teen or something,'' Mark said. `` Not when I started to get the wife and kids.'' 
 
 Carl was interested in one particular kind of fish, a dark shape that seemed to be following them, like a bloodhound. 
 
 `` Wish you coulda lived to have more'dem experiences,'' Carl replied under his breath, only in a whisper. 
 
 `` Excuse me?'' Mark asked. 
 
 Carl shook his head. ``'S nothing.'' 
 
 But now Mark was a bit anxious. He kept stealing looks at the dark shape that Carl stared at like the woman of his dreams, but again, he only made out blackness under the otherwise calm ocean. Mark swore he saw a tear on Carl's face, but with a beard like his, Mark had trouble making out facial expressions. 
 
 Then Mark forgot about the shape, but not because he wanted to. It was like... like something *grabbed* that thought out of his head, and Mark fought desperately to have it back. The shape was now only a shape, but it was surfacing. 
 
 Mark expected to see the largest, most beautiful fish so far, but it was him. 
 
 Dead. 
 
 Pale and lifeless with a look of terror on `` Mark's'' face as `` Mark'' grabbed at its own neck, but there was nothing there, not even the outline of any potential weapons. 
 
 `` Why's that- how's it- it looks like-'' 
 
 `` You. I saw it, Mark. Way'fore you did,'' Carl replied. The words fell out of his mouth like stones, lodged in his throat, unable to get out, before dropping to the bottom of the canoe. 
 
 `` My daddy said that there was something in these lakes,'' Carl continued. `` Not a fish. Like a... a Grim Reaper.'' 
 
 Mark wanted to laugh, but the mirror image of him began to leak blood. `` That's stupid.'' 
 
 The body twitched, no doubt about that. 
 
 `` Daddy said that they only come to those they wan na... how do I phrase this... they wan na take you?'' 
 
 Mark tried to laugh again. `` What, scuba-diving? Swimming lessons?'' 
 
 The body moved again, this time like it meant to stand up. 
 
 Carl sniffed. `` Sorry, Mark.'' 
 
 He pushed him out of the canoe. 
 
 Mark first noticed how cold it was. But it could n't have been this cold. It was on the warmer side of spring, it should n't have been cold like this. Then he noticed there was nothing. No fish, or other small sea creatures, the vicinity seemed to be devoid of even algae. Nothing but him and the sick imposter, the canoe rapidly moving away. 
 
 *I just went under a few feet. I can go back up* Mark though to himself. He tried to kick his feet, to move his arms, to go up, but he could n't. 
 
 Just as suddenly he could. He needed air. There it was, his nose was just starting to break the surface... 
 
 The imposter snapped into life, screaming, the sound unheard. One hand clamped around Mark's mouth, the other around his waist, and he was pulled down, away from the world, away from the light of the sun, away from the child that would never know his face. 
 
 On the boat, Carl was about to break down. He tried to cry, but something he saw made him forget instantly. 
 
 Another Carl. A dead one. 
 
 The real Carl began to scream, `` Someone help me!'' 
 
 But Sammy was too drunk to notice.
