Innocent Fishing Trip Turns into a Murder Mystery – Story of the Day

Best friends Scott and Alex set out on a weekend adventure, camping at their favorite fishing spot by the lake in the woods. Things take a dark turn when Scott awakens alone the next morning holding a bloody knife, with no memories of the previous night's events.

The week before Halloween, the quaint town was painted in a warm, golden palette of autumnal hues. Best friends Scott and Alex embarked on their much-awaited weekend adventure, driving down a deserted tree-lined road surrounded by wilderness stretching for miles.

As the last bend cut off the town limits behind them, the scenery became increasingly ominous. But to Scott and Alex, it was a mile closer to their final destination—the fishing hole in the woods where they often hung out every weekend…

The early morning mist cloaked the trees, and the stillness of the woods was shattered by the roar of the speeding car. Scott was behind the wheel, expertly navigating the winding route, his eyes scanning around for any signs of wild animals crossing the road.

"What's up, dude? What are you digging around for in your bag?" he asked Alex, who was busy rummaging through his backpack. "We're almost there. Did you forget something?"

"Huh, nothing, man. I was just looking for my…." Alex responded after a momentous hesitation.

"And thanks for offering to drive us in your car. Mine's been having some transmission issues, man. It wouldn't even start. Had to leave it at mechanic Mike's. Couldn't get it fixed in time for our outing. Sucks, huh?! I hope it'll be ready before our next trip," he chuckled.

"Chill, man. No problem! I hope we get there by noon," Scott nodded. "And how's your wife doin'? Any good news? What did the doctors say?"

"Ah, she's fine," Alex replied bitterly, "...not yet, dude. A couple of more tests. And scans. And if nothing works out, we've planned to adopt a child before next Christmas."

"Oh, alright!" smiled Scott, fixing his gaze on the long stretch of road ahead.

Alex's hands disappeared again into the depths of his backpack, and a smile flickered across his face. Scott caught a glint of silver, and his eyes widened as his friend pulled out a Bowie knife with a razor-sharp edge.

"A knife? What do you need that for?" Scott raised his eyebrows.

"Just in case we run into some trouble!" said Alex, rubbing the sharp blade against his palms. "You never know what we might encounter in the woods. After all, we're gonna camp there tonight. Just for safety, you know! It's razor-sharp. Can cut through anything."

Scott slowly nodded, pursing his lips. "Hey, watch it, dude. Stop messing around with that knife, man. Put that thing away."

Alex grinned. "You wanna feel how sharp it is, man? Come on, check it out."

Carried away with excitement, Alex fumbled with the sharp knife and ended up accidentally slicing his right hand.

Blood began oozing from the wound, staining his shirt and the car's upholstery, leaving Scott panicked and scrambling for a first aid kit as he pulled up by the roadside.

"Ah, damn! We don't have any first aid stuff in the car. Careful, man! I told you not to mess around with that thing. Look what you did. Guess we'll have to start calling you 'lefty' now!" Scott tried to lighten the mood as Alex recoiled in pain, wrapping the wound with his handkerchief.

"Ahhh! It hurts. Should've listened to you," Alex winced in pain. "Can we stop at the gas station? Maybe we can get some bandages."

Scott nodded, and as they pulled into the gas station on the deserted highway, Alex insisted on making an important phone call, leaving Scott to grab the bandage and some groceries for their camp.

"I forgot to bring my phone, man. You go ahead without me. I'll wait here. And don't forget my pack of smokes!"

As Scott shuffled through the aisles in the store near the gas station, Alex headed to the payphone. His trembling handles fumbled with the coins as he inserted them into the payphone and dialed 911.

Alex's anxiety grew with each passing second, and he tried to keep his voice steady as the operator spoke, "911, what's your emergency," on the other end of the line.

"I...I just saw a man's body in the backseat of a car. His shirt was covered in blood. The car was heading toward the woods on the highway near the gas station," he told the operator.

"...No, I couldn't stop him. The driver was too fast, and he seemed really nervous. I didn't see his face. B…But I did note down the car's license plate number."

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as Alex turned around and stared through the telephone kiosk. "Please write down the number," he said, reciting the digits on the number plate on Scott's car before hanging up.

"Got us some beer and munchies. The bandage is in that box. Help yourself!" said Scott as he hopped onto the driver's seat. "You doing okay, dude? Finished with the call?"

"Yeah...Yeah, all good. I'm fine," gasped Alex. "Let's leave this place. It's getting late. We gotta make it there by noon, right?"

As Scott's car tore down the road, leaving a cloud of dust hanging in the still air, Alex's heart throbbed, impatient to get to the woods.

After a long drive that seemed like an eternity, the tires came to a screeching halt on the gravel path. Scott jumped out of the car with his lips curled around a cigarette as he looked at the lake, the shimmer of the afternoon sun on its still surface.

Scott and Alex set up their camp on a small grassy terrain overlooking the lake. They unloaded their fishing gear and set to work, casting their lines as they waited patiently for a bite, placing bets on whose catch would be more.

The day passed as they reeled in fish after fish, comparing sizes and passing dirty jokes. As the sun disappeared behind the dense wall of spruce trees looming in the distance, Scott and Alex cooked their catch over an open fire.

The piercing shrill of crickets filled the night air as Scott and Alex retreated to their tent following their last shot of beer and campfire-roasted fish.

The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow on the forest floor as Scott stirred from his sleep. As he sat up, he noticed something was wrong. He was all alone. An eerie silence settled upon him as he looked around.

"Oh, my God. What happened here? Why is this place so messy? What the hell?" he gasped.

The tent lay in disarray around him as if it had been ransacked last night. Alex was nowhere to be seen. Panic shot into Scott's mind as he jumped to his feet, trying to figure out what could've happened.

"Where's he?" he worried, assuming Alex had gone to relieve himself. And that's when he felt something hard and cold in his grasp.

Scott looked down, and his heart leaped when he saw the bloodied Bowie knife clutched tightly in his right hand. Alex's crimson-stained shirt, which he'd worn the night before, lay near his pillow.

"Oh my God...What...How did it....?" he shrieked, flinging the sharp knife from his hand. Fear and confusion washed over Scott as he struggled to remember what had happened the previous night, making his way out of the tent toward the lake.

"Alex? Alex, you here?" Scott cupped his hands over his mouth and called out to his friend. But the only response was the echo of his own voice tearing through the tall spruce trees. "Oh my God, where did he go? I hope this isn't his stupid prank."

Scott's eyes darted around, and when he realized he was stranded in the middle of the thick woods, his anxiety grew about what could've happened to Alex.

"Alex? Where are ya, man? This ain't funny. Quit messin' around. We need to get outta here. C'mon, Alex…cut the crap, will ya?" Scott shouted desperately into the quiet air, but there was no response.

With each passing second, Scott's panic grew as he returned to the campsite. His breaths became short and rapid, and with a desperate thirst, he gulped some water before bolting out of the tent toward his car.

"I gotta get to the gas station and call the cops. Damn, I should've got my phone. Where the hell's this guy?" Scott muttered as he ran up the slope to the gravel road where he'd parked his car.

And just as he was about to get in, he ran into a woodcutter chopping logs nearby.

"Excuse me…Hey!" Scott said, his voice trembling with anxiety as he approached the woodcutter axing logs on the edge of the forest.

"Have you seen a guy around this morning? Or somewhere nearby in the woods? He's about my height. Brown hair. Grey eyes. And a cleft chin. He was wearing a black parka jacket and blue jeans when I last saw him. Did you happen to see him?"

The woodcutter stopped chopping and turned to face Scott. "Yeah, I think I saw him this morning. Can't say for sure about his eyes and cleft chin. But yeah, I did see a man in a black parka jacket and blue denim heading that way," he said gruffly, his eyes squinting with suspicion.

"Wh—which way?" Scott asked. "Was he hurt or something?"

"I don't think he was hurt or anything, pal. He looked fine to me. He was happy and seemed to be in a hurry. He headed that way...behind you. But why do you ask?"

"Thanks, man," said Scott, puzzled about what was going on. "Nothing. He's my friend. I was just looking for him. Did he happen to say anything to you? Or did you maybe talk to him? Was he alone?"

"Yeah, he was alone. And he just rushed off. He didn't even look in my direction. I was gathering wood and wanted help to lift the logs into my jeep there. But when I turned around, the guy was already gone. He just disappeared so fast."

"Why the hell would Alex do this?" Scott wondered, bolting back to the campsite. "What's wrong with him? Why would he just disappear without telling me? Something's wrong…But what?"

A strange fear started haunting Scott the deeper and harder he thought, trying to figure out what was going on. But when he couldn't get answers, he decided to pack all his things and leave.

"Alex, why did you do this to me, man? Where the hell are you?" Scott muttered, and just as he got ready to leave, faint sounds of police sirens approaching in the distance startled him.

"What the heck? Why are the cops here? What's going on?" he gasped, his heart pounding faster at seeing the bloody knife and Alex's crimson-stained shirt lying at his feet.

"Holy...Oh my God...Was he trying to frame me for murder or something?" he choked.

Scott's mind was in chaos as he hastily looked for a way out. The sound of sirens approached closer. "Jesus, I should get outta here before the cops find me," he panicked. He knew he needed to find Alex to get answers.

"What's going on? Why did he do this to me? He couldn't have gone too far," he mumbled as he bolted out of the tent.

Scott's heart thumped wildly in his chest as he dashed into the dense woods in the direction where the woodcutter last saw Alex.

The thicket of branches and mossy creepers whipped past him, and with each step he took, the sound of the sirens faded away behind him. Scott was now certain the cops had reached the campsite and retrieved all evidence against him.

Gasping for air, Scott stumbled through a muddy path. He held his knees tightly, trying to catch his breath, when he noticed fresh footprints on the wet mud leading to the thick woods in the distance.

A chill ran down Scott's spine as he realized that someone had just passed through that way. "Was it Alex?" he pondered, and without thinking twice, he followed the tracks.

Suddenly, Scott's ears pricked up at the sound of a faint cry for help. "Help! Please, somebody, help!" he heard a man's voice again. It sounded eerily familiar, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized it could be Alex.

As he approached the edge of a steep ravine, a shocking sight froze him in his tracks. There was Alex, wrenched in pain and gripping his leg, as he looked up at Scott.

"Alex, what the hell are you doing here?" he called out, scrambling a way to get down to him. "What's going on, man? Where the hell have you been all day?"

"SCOTT??" Alex's eyes popped open as he choked up. Disbelief was etched all over his face, and he started sweating. "Wha—What are you doing here? H—How did you find me?"

"I heard your goddamn voice, man," fumed Scott. "Where the hell were you, Alex? You just vanished without telling me anything. What's wrong with you? How could you just leave like that?"

"Answer me, man...What the hell's going on? You just ran off. I was searching for you everywhere like a madman. You better explain. You were the one who pushed for this trip. And you just disappeared? Are you out of your mind or something?"

Alex flinched in pain as he tried to sit up. His leg was clearly fractured due to the fall.

"And what's with this knife in my hand? And your bloody shirt. I think the cops are after me. What the hell did you do, Alex? Are you trying to set me up for something?"

"Cops?" Fear started crawling up Alex's spine when he heard this. His face grew pale, and his eyes darted around. "I don't know what you're talking about, man. I swear to God. Frame you? For what? Are you out of your mind?"

"Alex, your damn hunter knife…it was in my hand when I woke up this morning. And your bloody shirt. I don't remember what happened last night. Can you please tell me what the hell's going on?"

"I...I'll explain everything, man. But first, help me get outta here."

Scott nodded, a look of worry and fear cloaking his face. "Alright, let's get you out of here." With trembling legs, Scott crawled down the ravine and stood beside Alex, who was wincing in pain.

"H—How did you fall? Your leg's hurt. I have a bandage in my car. Hurry up, let's get outta here," he said, inspecting Alex's wounded leg.

"I just wanted to explore this place. You were asleep, so I didn't wanna disturb you, man. I was taking this route to get back...I didn't notice this gorge, and I fell," Scott heard Alex, and suddenly, a grave silence engulfed him.

Scott paused, and as he looked up, he froze.

"Alex, no…wait…Alex…stop…what are you doing?" he choked out as Alex laughed wickedly.

He tried to run, but it was too late. And in a split second, the log Alex was holding came crashing down on his head with a sickening thud. Scott's legs buckled beneath him. Everything around him blacked out, and stars burst around his head as he tumbled to the ground.

"Alex...Why did you..." Scott's voice trailed off into a faint whisper. His consciousness slipped away, and the silhouette of Alex climbing up the ravine was the last thing he saw before plunging into darkness.

"Sir, are you alright? Hey, wake up…" Scott heard a voice calling out to him. He felt a dull ache in his head and a splash of cold water drizzling on his face. Blinking rapidly, he tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Officer?" Scott hoarsely whispered at seeing two policemen looming over him. One held a flashlight, and the other accompanied a K9 on a leash.

"Hey, are you okay? Don't worry. We're from the department," said one of the cops.

Scott squirmed in pain as he tried to sit up. "Where...Where is Alex?"

The policeman exchanged a look with his partner before turning back to Scott. "We found you in the woods...about a mile from your campsite. You were unconscious," the cop said.

"What about Alex?" Scott asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "Did you find him?"

"We caught him running away after hitting you on the head. You'll need to drive with us to the station."

A shooting pain made Scott recoil to the ground, and he couldn't process what was happening.

"Officer, I...I don't understand what's going on. Alex and I've been friends for years. Why did he do this to me?"

The cop's expression hardened as he placed a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Right now, we need to take your statement."

Scott knew he wouldn't get any answers until he was at the police station. And as he was escorted to the police cruiser, his mind raced at seeing Alex being loaded into another vehicle in the distance.

The drive to the station was menacing, with Scott's mind haunting him with a million questions. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he stepped out of the car and was led inside the interrogation room.

He sat in the inquiry room for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the cop walked in as Scott braced himself for the worst.

"You can relax, Scott," said the officer. "Alex has finally come clean and told us everything, fearing a lengthy jail sentence."

Scott felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He let out a deep sigh. "I...I don't understand. Why would Alex do this? What did he say, inspector?"

The cop pulled a chair and sat down opposite him before revealing something Scott could've never imagined.

"He admitted to intentionally cutting his hand in the car. He then called 911 from a gas station and reported you to the cops."

"Oh, my God! H—He reported me? But why?" gasped Scott.

"Well, he wanted to gather enough evidence to stage his own murder. That was a genius plan, indeed! But poor him! He was noticed by the woodcutter while trying to run from the woods, and then he fell in the ravine, breaking his leg."

Scott was disappointed and felt betrayed by his own best friend. He sat there in shock, trying to process the officer's words.

"Jesus. I can't believe it. Why did he do this to me? Why did Alex want to frame me for his disappearance and make it look like I murdered him?" Alex and I have been friends since college. I trusted him so much...How could he...How could he do this to me?" he cried into his palms.

The cop sighed and leaned forward. "Money can make people do hideous things, Scott. It's a sad truth. But I'm glad we caught him and brought him before the law before he succeeded in his plan."

"Alex wanted the insurance money for his wife. He knew that if he went missing, she wouldn't get it. So he plotted a way to make it look like he was murdered and that you were the suspect. The fishing trip...his bloody shirt and knife...and his disappearing from the campsite...it was all his ploy to gather evidence against you. Alex and his wife had even planned to flee the state after claiming the insurance."

"I can't believe my best friend would betray me," Scott broke down as the cop patted his shoulder and said he could leave.

As Scott marched down the corridor, he saw Alex sitting in the interrogation cell, staring blankly at the one-way mirror. Scott sighed deeply, realizing he'd lost his only close friend forever, and walked out of the station without looking back at Alex.

What can we learn from this story?

• Trust is built on truth, but all it takes is for one lie to destroy it. Scott and Alex were best friends but years of friendship crumbled down when Alex betrayed Scott and tried to frame him for his fake murder.
• No amount of lies can silence a truth because the truth always has a way of coming out in the end. While Alex thought he would get away with the insurance money after framing his friend for a fake murder, he landed in jail when his plan backfired.

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Single mom Matilda's strained relationship with her teen daughter, Alice, takes a dark turn when an old nurse informs her Alice isn't her biological child. Click here to read the full story.

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