The Lost Ring

The road to Denver curved along the misty corn fields and they appeared like a serpent in the dark. Henry’s motorcycle growled low as he slowed near the old oak tree. The time was past midnight. It was not a very good experience for the rider, as the climate was tough out there, but Henry was not like the others. He wanted to find the lost ring of his fiancée.

That tiny gold band of his love had fallen somewhere near the canal earlier that day. when they were watching the beauty of the daises. Meona had laughed it off, but he saw her face changing when she realized the loss. It was given to her by her grandmother.

He had promised her. “A ring can’t just disappear. I’ll find it for you before morning.”

Now, with only his small flashlight and the restless hum of crickets, he regretted those words.

He parked near the small bridge, cu the engine, and listened. It was too strange. The night was too still, no frogs, no wind, not even the rustle of leaves. His ears caught the soft splash of the flowing water.

He sat on the rough soil near the small bridge, hovered the beam over the soft mud, and there was a sudden glitter.

“There you are…” Henry muttered, reaching down.

But the glint was no more.

The water splashed and bubbles came up.

Then he saw the glitter again. That time beneath the level of the water and it was rising towards him.

Jubilant young man bends his body further down and stretched his hand until it touches the cold metal. He dragged it up and felt that it was very heavy. He pulled out of the muddy water something strange, something scary with the ring.

A rotten, skeletal hand clutching the gold ring.

He stumbled back, fear exploded in to his every single millimeter of the body. He was still like a piller of the bridge, and the hand sank back to the depth.

He swallowed hard. “What the hell…”

Then he heard it.

A very soft and tender voice crept into his ears.

“Looking for my ring?”

Scared young man, swung the flashlight wildly. A woman stood by the bridge rail—drenched, hair plastered to her face, wearing a torn red frock that clung to her like her very skin. He saw her eyes gleaming in the dark.

He barely managed some words

“Who are you?”

She smiled in return. “You promised to return it… didn’t you?”

The ring was in her finger now, shining with unnatural bright.

Henry took a step back. “That’s not yours. lady”

“Once, it was.”

Henry heard the brewing moan of the storm and he felt the sudden gush of the sir touching his weary face, He turned to run away from the woman with the ring, but the path was not there. The mist had covered everything He ran infuriated by his fear, and the sounds of the anklets made him faster.

The darkness covered his path and suddenly he stumbled and slowly fallen into the river. He clutched at every thing that his fingers can get hold of, but none can stop his slide towards the river.

He screamed but the darkness and the sound of ware absorbed his fatal scream. The cold water swallowed him like an enormous dark monster waiting for its prey.

Soon, he was on the surface again and he was fighting for air.

She was there in the middle of the river just in front of him.

He stood there without woman his limbs, just to feel a cold pair of hands pressing his throat. The last thing he heard was.

“You shouldn’t have come back,”