A Body of Dark Water

As Samara drew closer to the body of water, that feeling in her stomach grew. 

Fear, dread, panic grew inside her. 

“Come closer,” 

It was soft and eerily. However, the voice sounded familiar.

Samara found herself drawn to the voice. 

She had been coming out to this lake since she was a kid.

It was where she learned to swim. Where she had her first picnic date. 

Where she went skinny dipping with her high school boyfriend for the first time. 

It was her safe haven. In the last few weeks, that had changed. 

A voice called out to her repeatedly, but whenever she looked out at the water, it was empty. 

Nothing but dark waves. 

She had always taken walks at night on the beach. Enjoying the way the moon reflected off the water’s surface. It was peaceful in a way nothing else in her life was. 

Except there was nothing peaceful about it tonight. The moon was low in the night, the lake dark, the murky waters ominous. 

The brisk chilly wind made goosebumps rise on her flesh. 

Nothing else could have caused it. Not the feeling of alarm taking over her as the voice echoed in her head. The same words on repeat.

“Come closer.” 

She refused to walk to the water’s edge. She had seen plenty of horror stories. You never do as the ominous voice tells you. 

A ripple in the waves caught her eyes. Suddenly, the sky seemed to have ripped open from the heavens. The rain came down in an onslaught. 

Sharp winds filled the air, blowing her hair all around her face. 

She wrapped her yellow jean jacket tighter around her body. It drenched the fabric in seconds. 

Her hair plastered to her, her wet clothes clung to her like a second skin. 

She pushed her wet hair away from her face, and her eyes widened. 

The ripple in the water changed, waves crashing on the lake’s surface. 

It was unlike anything she ever seen in a regular lake. The ocean sure but not a lake that was barely thirty feet deep. 

The dark murky waves seem to get stronger and higher with each one, reaching further and further to the shore. 

Samara didn’t like this at all as her red hair whipped around her, smacking against her skin. 

Everyone in this life had been instilled with a fight-or-flight instincts and she was no exception. 

And her flight instincts were screaming at her with big blaring red alarms. Screaming, urging for her to turn back now before it was too late. 

She turned on her heel, body twisting, the soles of her sneakers digging into the soggy mud when the voice spoke again. 

No, not spoke. Begged. 

“Help me, please. Help me.”

Ignoring a voice that struck fear inside her heart was one thing, but ignoring a plea for help was another. 

“Please, help me.” 

Despite wanting to run, wanting to get out of there as fast as she could, she ran toward the lone dock. 

She ran across the wooded boards, her feet slipping, her legs slammed hard into the wood. 

She cried out sharply from the impact. 

“Please, somebody help me!”

The voice was desperate, scared, and again familiar. 

She planted her palms against the wet dock and push back to her feet, running to the end of the dock and stopping at the edge. 

Samara eyed the dark murky waters for anyone, trying to find the source of the voice. 

Her body jolted when she saw a body floating in the water face down, red hair spread out like a crimson spill. 

Without thinking, she dove into the water and swam. The waves worked against her. 

She pumped her arms and legs harder. “Hold on,” 

It could only have been moments, but felt like forever when she finally reached the body. 

Her arm curled around the torso of the body, intending to help the person to the shore. 

She knew she had to act fast if she was going to attempt CPR. 

She had been crying out for help only a moment ago. 

A gasp tore from Samara’s mouth as the girl jolted up in the water, her red hair cutting through the air. 

A scream tore from her mouth when she caught sight of the face staring back at her with bloody cuts and rotted flesh. 

It was impossible. What she was seeing couldn’t be real.

She pushed away, but the girl’s hands wrapped around her throat and pushed her under the ever intensifying current. 

Samara tried to fight, digging her nails into the hands around her neck, kicking out with her legs, but it wasn’t enough. 

Her mouth opened desperately for air and water went down her throat, choking her further. 

She struggled in vain, to get free, to get away, to breathe. Terrified, she was going to drown and fear of the face staring back at her, consuming her. 

She was going to die, and it was her killer’s face that terrified her. 

Her face. 

Her red hair, her green eyes, the freckles on her cheeks. 

Samara was her own killer. 

Dots danced in her vision, her lungs burning, limbs flailing, and all she could think was how this was impossible. 

She was dreaming. This was just a nightmare. 

She couldn’t be her own killer. It just wasn’t possible. 

This was all just a huge nightmare. 

One she was going to wake up from any minute now. 

She stopped fighting. This wasn’t real. It was all in her head. 

The body, herself, smiled wickedly, sharp razor teeth gleaming beneath the murky water. 

Her hands released Samara’s neck, but her relief was short-lived. 

Those same razor-sharp teeth tore into her neck. 

Crimson blood flowed out across the water's surface. 

Samara tried to staunch the blood flow with her hands, but her body grew weaker and she felt herself sinking to the bottom of the lake. 

Above the surface, the storm that raged suddenly came to an abrupt stopped. 

Flaming red hair, breaching just the surface, her razor-sharp teeth coated in blood, a smirk playing on her lips before she dove back into the murky depths, returning to her new home with her first fresh kill at the bottom of the lake, never to be discovered again.