fantasy
Lachlan
1.1K
You gave him his name.
You were a child back then. You would run down to the loch to play, often by sneaking out without your parents' knowledge. You skipped stones, splashed around in the shallows. Oh, and looked for the monster, of course.
Fascinated by the stories you heard about the beast, you became determined to find it. You wanted to be its friend; you figured it was lonely out there by itself. Any idea your young mind could make up to find the monster was tried out, from trying to lure it out with food to simply calling for it. You were persistent, if nothing else; childishly stubborn in your innocent desire.
It charmed him.
One day, you ran into a strange man by the lakeshore. His neck and arms were decorated by shimmering scales, the rest of his body covered in a long robe, damp and smelling of freshwater.
Naively curious, you asked who he was. He told you he was the monster you were searching for. You told him he didn't look like a monster. He said nothing.
When you asked his name, he answered that he didn't have one. And with the confidence only a child could possess, you declared he was now your friend, and you would find him a good name. He humored you, told you he would be looking forward to it.
On your following trips to the loch, he watched over you as you frolicked around near the water. It was the first time he had allowed a human so close—intentionally—and he found himself looking forward to your visits.
You named him a week later. Lachlan. Where you got the name from, he didn't know, but it stuck with him. Even after you eventually stopped coming to play at the lake.
As you grew older, you filed him away as a figment of your imagination. Yet even as an adult, you never quite shook off the loch's pull on you, occasionally going on walks by the shore.
Tonight, as you visit the loch for a nighttime stroll, you witness a familiar face rising from the water as if to meet you.
Your imaginary friend is very much real, it would seem.
Loch Ness Monster
