Daemon Manx wins first place for his story The Devil’s Well in the writersnetworkrf.com Around the Campfire, Urban Legends Short Story Contest.
Gary Butler stepped carefully to the edge of the massive drop-off and peered over into the dark, choppy water below. His heart somersaulted and then descended into his stomach. What little nerve he thought he had only a moment ago was gone. The sight of the rock face as it stretched out beneath him and the massive height from which he stood made him dizzy. A raging waterfall cascaded off a large outcropping near the edge where Gary stood. It dumped into a deep churning pool at the cliff base. Gary stood at the jump-off point where only the bravest of the boys ever ventured to go. The dive was less than forty feet, but it felt like a whole lot more. The concave vector that the granite wove as it sloped inward beneath the precipice gave the illusion of a never-ending drop. The ceaseless roar of the waterfall only helped to fog the senses at this altitude. He had been sure that today would be the day he would finally jump. But now that he was here, standing at the edge of the unforgiving rock, he knew there was no way. It hadn’t been named the Devil’s Well for nothing.