It was a dark, cold night, and although almost every night
in this area of Finland is pretty dark and cold, still, that
one wasn't like the rest. A full moon was hanged in the
black skies and a tall being gently picked up a knife from a
table and sharpened it for one last time. The being wore the
special outfit, which was prepared just for a special
occasion of this kind, and opened the front door of a little
faded wooden house, you could see ancient Finnish
building-style influences on. With great confidence in his
walk, the being turned right to the small convoluted path
that leaded to the lake. Threatening shadows more often
fallen on the path with his every step. The fat little hand
of his black watch made another slow step toward the Romic
symbol that meant twelve. The being suddenly stopped, raised
his hands to the skies, and the look in it's eyes became
mad: "This is the night of payment, you damn gods!" he
shouted raising his left middle finger as high as his arm
let him (in a whole condition) toward characters only he
could see. He was too busy insulting his gods to notice a
shivering character coming close. The being continued:
"You'll finally allay your bloody chaos - their time is
sho-"
- "You're ruining my atmosphere" a
voice-of-someone-who-was-interrupted-during-a-high-impotence-mission
from his left made him jump. He lowered his eyes and
examined the shivering unexpected stranger, while his left
middle finger was still raised up in the air in a pretty
painful angle. He noticed that and considered to put it
down. In front of him stood a character dressed in an outfit
similar to the one he was wearing, shorter then him in a few
inches with a tortured look upon his face.  
- "No strangers should have been here tonight, it should be
just me and the kids."  The dark tortured, shivering, not
very tall charicter said nothing for a while. Then spoke
patiently: "Unfortunately you're wrong - this is my night;
besides - I won't need any more nights, ever again".
- "Oh, one of those, huh?" our mad being twisted his mouth
to what could look like a half of a smile from the right
angle.
- "I guess so".
- "And still, this is my night - not yours."
Instead of answering the tortured eyes started searching for
a piece of paper in his black outfit's inner pocket. "I'm
sure I had it somewhere..." he murmured. The being turned
for looking for a several document as well. They pull out
their reseats in the same second. It just couldn't be - they
both knew it. On both of the sheets of paper was typed in
gothic latters exactly the same but one line: 'Renting
reason'. The old keeper of Lake Bodom fooled them. He had
been doing this job for many years and no one ever doubted
his honesty. They both understood how he was making such a
big money from renting the lake to privet clients in
full-mooned nights - he could never afford a Jacuzzi in his
little wooden house, or such a fancy car from just one
client a month. For years, no one had noticed hid dishonesty
- until now.  The only thought was in the being's and the
character's minds was "That old greedy bastard!". He had no
right to break the agreement -  It was after midnight and
all their preparations for that particular night was for
nothing. The moon will set and no blood will be spelt. The
character sighed "I guess this is it."
- "What a waste of a perfect dead-night"
- "You're telling me..."
- "Well, so long then."
- "Wait! Maybe it won't be a total waste after all..."
The being reinforced his hold on the knife in his pocket.
They both nodded in silence and started walking to a little
wooden (but still pretty well built) house, placed at lake's
beach.

מחווה לשיר Lake Bodom של Children of Bodom ולשיר Cold של At
The Gates. או במילים אחרות עבודה יצירתית באנגלית לאחת משנות
התיכון. אל תשאלו.