View From Six Feet Underwater

(Present time)

A mournful wail carried across the lake so loud, so piercing that Jasper heard it through the closed window. His head snapped to the right when he heard it. This was not an animal sound, nor was it from a human. Whatever made that cry sounded like a creature enduring torment from the bowels of hell. Jasper’s insides squirmed with frigid terror. There was no time to look, he only had precious minutes to plan an escape, but the mournful cry drew him forward. Before Jasper knew he had moved, he pressed his hands and face to the glass. The platinum moonlight cast a glow on the unnatural mist covering the lake as it coalesced into human form and glided toward the cabin. A scream bubbled up from his throat, but he clamped his hands over his mouth to keep from drawing attention. He tore his gaze away from the advancing horror, ran toward the locked door in a desperate attempt to break through, but even with the running start, Jasper only bounced off the solid door. He refused to be a victim. He would find a way to escape.

(Three days ago)

Jasper found an Air-bnb that looked perfect for a vacation getaway. Without too much afterthought he booked it and was on a flight bound for a little country cabin on a serene lake. Outside the airport a van was waiting to pick everyone up and transport them to the cabin. Jasper was the first to enter. The second was a young woman with fiery red and orange highlighted hair. The sides of her head were shaved, making it look like her head was aflame. The chains and metal rings decked out on her black skirt and vest clinked together as she entered the van. With an air of ownership she slumped into the seat next to Jasper, and said without extending her hand, “I’m Maya Adair. Remember that name because I’m going to be a famous author. I’m putting the finishing touches on a tragic love story about a Dark Elf Vampire.”

“Oh, um, congratulations,” Jasper stammered.

“I didn’t come here to fish, or be sociable, or to get to know anyone. I’ll be writing spending most of my time in my room. I’ll come out when I want to, so don’t bother me with mundane questions or small talk.”

“Right,” Jasper was beginning to think this whole vacation with strangers was a bad idea.

The driver looked at Maya through the rear view mirror. Jasper caught those eyes and immediately shivered. They were so dark, they looked void of pupils, and he found he could not hold that gaze for more than a few seconds. Maya even looked taken aback, then slumped further down in the seat, crossed her arms, turned to Jasper and asked, “What’s your story?”

Jasper opened his mouth, but Maya waved her hand dismissively, “Yeah, I don’t care.” She then turned back to the driver, “Hey, is anyone else coming?”

He didn’t acknowledge her question, electing to stare straight ahead like a statue. Soon the side door opened and a giggling couple stepped into the back seat, immediately started kissing and giggling even more. Then the girl looked around like she suddenly noticed there were others, blushed, then asked, “Oh, hey. Are you all going to Cooper’s Cabin too?”

Maya was looking on with an undisguised mask of disgust, “Are you two like newlyweds or something?”

The giggling, auburn-haired woman stuck out her hand to reveal a large sparkling diamond, “Newly engaged.”

Jasper watched the door automatically slide shut when he was hit with an overwhelming wave of anxiety. When the door clicked shut, he imagined a prison cell door clanking shut, and he nearly climbed over Maya in a panic to escape this mobile prison.

“You don’t look so good,” Maya commented. “You’d better not get sick in here.”

Embarrassment encased Jasper as he took several deep breaths and was able to calm the sudden panic attack, though his pulse still fluttered like hummingbird wings. “I’m good. It’s just…” he faded off, not sure what had caused that spectacle.

The two in back continued to whisper and giggle when Maya rolled her eyes at them, turned back to Jasper and said in a low voice, “You wanna bet he has a murder dungeon?”

Jasper’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, which caused the fiery haired girl to clamp her sides in laughter. Jasper thought this would be a memorable vacation if nothing else.

That night in his room, Jasper woke up freezing. The room was so icy cold, his breath wafted in front of his nose. That was odd because it was such a warm, fall evening while everyone had gathered around the firepit. Shivering, he sat up, looked around the room and immediately noticed the open window. A frigid breeze wafted through, carrying a gagging odor of stagnant water and wet earth. Jasper knew he hadn’t opened it because he never opens the windows at night. He wondered if the owner walked in to open the window while he was sleeping. Why would he, and secondly, how did Jasper feel about the obvious invasion of privacy? A lone cry echoed from the lake. It didn’t sound like any bird or animal he knew, which was very limited, but it spurred him out of bed. Still shivering, he slid his bare feet over the edge and yelped when they slapped into a painfully cold puddle. Instinctively he leapt onto the rug and wiped his feet off feeling both disgusted and shocked. Flipping on the overhead lamp, Jasper saw what appeared to be wet footprints leading from the window. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? He thought. There was no way someone climbed up to the second floor. The wet spots appeared to come from the window, to the side of the bed, and there the puddle was larger, like someone had climbed out of the lake and stood over him. His heart revved faster at the thought. Jasper tiptoed to the window, careful not to step in the puddles, and scanned the landscape. A low mist covered the lake, but he saw no movement, and couldn’t see any signs that someone had climbed up or out of the window. The low, mournful moan slithered across the lake again. Jasper wasted no time closing the window, and sliding it locked.

The old wood floor in the hallway creaked. Someone was out there. Jasper strode to the door, yanked it open, and was greeted by the creased, grizzled face of Thatcher, the owner. The dim glow of the lamp cast grim shadows over the old man’s lined face, making him look like a living corpse. Though Jasper was prepared to meet someone out here, he could not suppress a high pitched squeal of shock when he saw the grizzled face. The old man wore a dingy, yellow rain slicker, and unlaced leather boots. Those black eyes stared into Jasper, prying into the depths of his soul. Finding the courage to speak, Jasper asked, “What are you doing out here? Were you in my room?”

“Heard noises,” the scratchy, gravelly voice said.

“There’s water in my room. It looks like someone came in from the window. Someone dripping wet.” Jasper looked down at Thatcher’s boots suspiciously.

“Pipes leak sometimes.”

Door hinges squeaked behind Jasper, he turned to see bleary eyes staring back at him. It was Maya. She glared at him with dark rimmed, sleep deprived eyes. Her mouth was turned into a sneer like she smelled something disgusting. “You mind shutting the hell up and letting us sleep.”

“I think someone was in my room. There are wet footprints, and the window was open. I was asking Thatcher what the hell is going on.”

Maya gave Jasper an even dirtier look, shook her head, and said, “Do you like, sleepwalk or something?”

Shaking his head, he turned back toward Thatcher but Jasper was alone in the hallway. “Where did he go? You saw him didn’t you?”

Maya sighed and rolled her eyes, “I’m awake now, might as well get some coffee, do some writing.” She stepped into the hallway when Jasper grabbed her arm and led her into his room.

She didn’t resist, but said caustically, “Usually if a boy dragged me into their room I’d shank him.”

Jasper ignored the comment, pointed to the floor and said, “Do those look like…” His mouth hung open because the puddles were gone.

Her voice oozed with sarcasm, “You had a bad dream, now you’re in what’s called reality.” She patted him on the cheek as she gave him her best smirk, then left him gaping at the dry floor.

There wasn’t a trace of wet footprints anywhere, but he caught movement at the edge of the window. Training his eyes at the corner, Jasper saw a tiny trickle of water slip through a miniscule crack like a worm retreating into its hole. “No! Not water, an insect. That’s all,” Jasper’s voice cracked. “And yes, it was all a sleepwalking dream. A very vivid dream,” he assured himself.

Jasper went downstairs to join Maya for coffee, and to convince himself he was just being irrational, and that his nerves were getting the best of him. Maya and her comment in the van the previous day had planted a seed in his mind that he let run rampant.

The remainder of that day, and the next were uneventful until after dinner. The mussels in clam sauce over linguine was decadent. They all ate hearty portions while Thatcher poured four glasses of wine then retreated to a dark corner. This troubled Jasper, but since everyone else was having a good time, he attempted to quash the thought.

“Come over here and have a drink with us old timer,” Maya said, raising her glass to him.

He flashed that eerie grin which caused the gooseflesh to prickle on Jasper’s arms. “I don’t drink.”

Maya shrugged then turned to Jasper who was staring hard at the full wine glass in his hand. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Are you worried he slipped something in the wine?”

Jasper could feel his face glow intense, bright red that rivaled the liquid in the glass. Maya stood up laughing, then gulped her wine in one swig. Immediately her eyes grew wide and she grabbed her throat while making gasping, gagging noises.

Jasper' insides jellified as he watched in frozen horror. Then Maya busted out laughing while pointing at Jasper, “You should’ve seen your face! You completely freaked.” Still laughing she walked to the counter, grabbed the bottle, poured herself another glass which she quickly quaffed. She then went around topped off Sy and Deanna’s glasses, and poured the rest into Jasper’s.

Peer pressure settled in, and Jasper downed the full glass of wine. “Okay, let’s drink then,” he said to Maya who held the bottle up to the light and was looking at the bottom of it.

Fear was present on her face and she blinked slowly at him like it was difficult to keep her eyes open. “There’s an awful lot of sediment at the bottom…” she said, then dropped to her knees, eyes rolling back, and fell to the floor.

He thought she was playing again until he noticed Sy and Deanna were slumped against one another, their mouths hanging open, in deep slumber. Jasper gulped and suddenly felt like the air in the room was heavy and viscous because everything moved in slow motion. He turned toward the door, but was met by Thatcher. He grinned down at him, the creased wrinkles grew deeper the wider his thin lips stretched. Blackness surrounded Jasper and dragged him into slumber.

(Current time)

When Jasper started to stir, he felt his head pound with every heartbeat as it threatened to explode. He sat up and clamped his hands over his head to ease the agony. The familiar settings of his room greeted his blurry eyes. Through the drug induced fog, one thought echoed in his mind–Get out. Now! He stumbled toward the door, reached for the doorknob, but it was gone. “What the fuck?” he said to himself. Without thinking, Jasper raised his leg and kicked the door. The door didn’t budge, and the force sent shockwaves through his head along with a new wave of agony. He slumped to the ground, cradling his head.

“Jasper,” a muffled voice said, followed by tapping on the wall. “Jasper, are you there?”

Maya was talking to him through the wall. Massaging his head, he stumbled to the wall. “What the hell is going on?” He croaked.

“I don’t know,” her voice was high, and near hysterical. “But I think he murdered Sy and Deanna. I heard screams, thudding, then silence. He locked me in and I can’t get out. I can’t open the door, I can’t even break the window. What kind of fucking madhouse is this?!”

“Wait,” Jasper said. He was still groggy from the drug, and Maya’s words slowly registered. “Sy and Deanna were murdered? Are you sure?”

“No I’m not, but why else would we be drugged and locked into our rooms?" She yelled, her voice cracking. “Focus! See if you can get out and help me before he does the same to us.”

Adrenaline surged, clearing the groggy effects of the drugs. Jasper threw himself at the door with renewed vigor, ignoring the protesting explosions in his head. Still, he only managed to injure his shoulder and knee. It was no use, he wasn’t getting out that way. He turned his attention to the window. He picked up the bedside lamp and hurled it at the glass, but it bounded harmlessly off the window and fell to the floor where it shattered into large porcelain fragments.

Before he could tell Maya he was trapped as well, an otherworldly wail cried out from the direction of the lake. His bladder nearly let loose when he heard the sound. He looked out the window and saw the mist over the lake climb vertically and take on the shape of a woman. She floated across the middle of the lake toward his direction. Jasper froze in place. He wanted to stop looking, bust his way through the door and run as far away from this murder cabin as possible, but he was transfixed on the apparition. When she reached the shore, the mist from the lake fell away like a dropped dress and Jasper saw the blue-grey naked skin as she walked slowly, clumsily on the ground.

“What was that noise?” Maya said from the other side of the wall.

“You wouldn’t believe me. Look at the lake and tell me I'm just sleepwalking.”

“My window doesn’t face the lake. Is it Thatcher? I’ll be ready for him,” Maya said. “Let him try and come in here.”

Jasper glanced around the room for some type of weapon. There was nothing substantial. When he turned back to the window, the creature was no longer in sight. From the other room he heard Maya exclaim. “Water’s seeping in from the window. What the hell is going on?”

“Get away from it!” Jasper yelled through the wall. “It’s her, she must have been here before, get out Maya.”

“Oh god,” Maya said. Then she let out a bloodcurdling scream that quickly sounded like her head was forced into a bucket of water, followed by a dreadful silence.

Jasper stood trembling as he listened for signs from Maya, but all he heard was the hammering of his spasming heart and the quick wheeze of his shallow breathing. From the yellow glow that shone through the crack from under the door he saw two thin shadows stop in front of his room. Jasper bent down and picked up a thick triangular ceramic shard from the broken lamp and raised it over his head.

Water poured through the crack underneath the door and through the keyhole. The shadows on the other side faded away as more water cascaded in, but instead of spreading over the floor, it formed wavering, watery, feet, legs, and continued to pour in until the naked figure of the lake creature was standing in front of Jasper. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The wet, mottled, gray skin glistened in the moonlight as water trickled and dripped onto the floor. Black hair, looking like slimy eels decorated with clumps of algae clung to the skull and cascaded over narrow shoulders. Hollow eyeless sockets turned toward Jasper, then the thing smiled, baring brown, rotted, dead teeth. Water oozed around the mouth, carrying tiny green and black worms around her lips, sliding between her teeth, into her gums, then back out again.

The room filled with the cloying stench of stagnant water and old, rotting fish. An ear splitting scream issued from Jasper’s throat as the naked woman stepped toward him. Each step she took left a wet footprint on the floor. Jasper then knew she had been in the room before. He scrambled into a corner of the room, and she continued to stalk him. The jagged, chunk of porcelain weighed heavy in his hand. He looked at it confused, then he let out a wailing shriek as he ran toward the creature and plunged it deep into solid flesh. Her chest morphed into green water, surrounded the makeshift weapon and absorbed it. A wet thunk sounded as the shard exited harmlessly to the floor.

In sickening slow motion she reached her hands out and clasped Jasper’s head in those soggy, cold, appendages. He fought, but his fists only splashed through her liquid body. The vice-like grip held Jasper tight as her face inched closer until her wormy, wriggling lips connected with his and a rush of rotten, swamp smelling water filled his nose and throat silencing his screams.

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