The Black Lake of Dour

The Black Lake of Dour

Heidi lay staring at the ceiling, still sweating. The nightmare she had woken up from still shook her. She kept her eyes closed, still scared she might open them and see the focusless gaze of the two teenage boys she had the misfortune of finding the previous week at Grannys.

Heidi was no stranger to bodies. In both Mother and Father’s work, death was the focus. Her father, Jakob, tended to the town mortuary, preparing the dead for families to view, then (she had thought) burying them in the cemetery at the edge of Dour. Her mother Penelope, on the other hand...she had always said she had important work at the lake, and Heidi remembered the intricate butchering from vague memories from her childhood, people with their skin upturned like spines. She had sat in the corner, told to practice with a knife so she could replace Mother one day.

Heidi was not unfamiliar with death. But something about seeing those two kids, barely as old as she was, hanging upside down in a larder somehow made it seem more real. And being made to unwittingly eat human flesh and blood...that damn cake...She felt her head swim with nausea again as her brain tried to recall her tender meal with Granny, but she quashed it. She didn’t have time to focus on it today. She needed to talk to Mother, and today was the perfect day to do it: the day of Reasoning.

Reasoning, when the Winter Solstice was close enough to speak with the Angels, and the Black Lake of Dour was still thawed enough to bring a sacrifice. The Angels resided at the bottom of the Black Lake, Mother told her. Heidi never thought to question Mother’s goodness at doing the necessary work of providing the Angels with a sacrifice, the Gesture of Good Will. But then, she hadn’t had to stare a cadaver in the eyes, and come to terms with death on such a personal level. It had been on the other side of a layer of sense, of purpose. Now it just seemed a terrible waste.

She sighed, feeling the nausea leave her, and she sat up to put on her waterproof robes.

___

On the lake, Mother stood at the back of the black motorboat, its engine nearly silent, leaving a pristine “V” behind them on the glass surface of Black Lake. Her face was stern, her hair done ceremoniously in lace matching her black and velvet robes. Heidi wore it’s twin, but her hair was undone. Night had fallen, and a lantern did little to push back the darkness that seemed to cling to the lake. Heidi sat near the front of the vessel, as the space between her and Mother was taken by a large lump of scratchy paper that only two weeks ago, Heidi would have felt proud to have helped Mother with.

Though the brown paper wrappings veiled the cadaver from view, Heidi remembered what it looked like, it’s flesh molded into an inhuman shape. Mother had said it was to flatter them, to make the Angels see we weren’t so different, as only a quick physical modification was needed to make us so alike. Heidi had only ever thought of the corpses as the long departed, preserved by Dad’s work chemicals, malleable clay under Mother’s knife, but now she wondered at what life he must have lead before his demise, what his family would think if instead of being buried like they thought, he were instead delivered to the family barn, or to the desert to be eaten by an old woman. Her head swam again, remembering how delicious Granny’s cake was...and how happy Granny had been to share it with her.

She turned to Mother, inhaling, preparing to break the dead silence of the lake, when a deep, soul shaking hum broke it for her. It felt like the entirety of the lake vibrated from the rumblings, and the cacophonous splash behind her made the boat rock.

Slowly, so as not to insult the entity she knew was floating behind her, she turned to face it. She gasped...Floating above the lake, silhouetted by a halo of light, was an Angel.

Mother had shown her a drawing she had once made of the Angels of Dour, but it was a disservice. The skin of the beast was monstrous in its perfect symmetry, intricate patterns swirling among it’s spiny skin. Everywhere Heidi looked on the enormous being, the scales parted, showing an eye staring back. It’s many wings opened, revealing them to be made of the same complex impossible geometry, black-pooled eyes staring between dark thorns. It was taller than the Church of Dour, the biggest building in town, and she felt small in comparison. Heidi was frozen, terror striking her being, but also a sort of peace. She wondered why it looked familiar, despite it being impossible to have seen something like this before.

A shift in the weight of the boat told Mother was moving, but she didn’t want to turn from the majestic being before her, partly for its impossible and beautiful design, partly for fear of what would happen if she turned her back. The crinkling of paper told her that Mother had unwrapped the Gesture of Good Will, and Heidi felt her carry it to the front of the boat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the body, it’s skin carved and spined upwards from the bone with tar, the swirling patterns on it’s chest a poor facsimile of the Angel’s. But, it seemed to be enough, as the light emanating from behind the dark winged creature swelled as Mother dumped the body into the lake. It sank like a stone, and the angel dived underwater after it, making a deafening splash. The ripples never reached their boat, however, as the water had settled like jelly before reaching them. The light faded, and they were left on the surface of Black lake, nearly blinded and deafened from the sudden absence of light and noise. The candle flickered in the dark, until a glimmer of the moon was able to beam through the clouds. Mother went back to the engine, and the boat began gliding back to the shore.

Heidi sat stunned, amazed and afraid. That was an Angel? Mother had said that they protect the town of Dour from horrific intrusion, but how? The triviality of a single missing corpse a year seemed so small now, against such a thing living in such close proximity to a living town. The people of Dour seemed to hate the place, with the marshy woods holding an almost reverent fear, and now Heidi knew why. She knew she would have dreams (nightmares?) of tonight, and almost felt herself want to cry.

They touched down onto the shore, stepping off into the ankle deep mud, and Mother hid the boat in the shrubbery on the side of the lake. Heidi considered bringing up Granny again, but decided against it. A cannibalistic old woman was of little concern now. The stakes were made clear.

If the Angels were needed to protect Dour, she couldn’t imagine what Dour would fall prey to if left undefended.