Deep Despair

For the protection of those who might seek its waters, the name of the lake and the town near it will not be disclosed. For the justice of the families and those lost to the lake, their stories will be told.

The lake was nearly half a mile from the nearest home and served as the heart of the town. Freshwater to swim in and an abundance of fish waiting to be caught. Surrounding pine trees shielding it from the noise of passing cars or the blowing wind. Countless gatherings had been held on its shores making it the only tourist attraction for the small town. The lake was once a place of calm serenity. The shift into what the lake exists as now happened abruptly with much speculation as to what caused it. The silence and stillness no longer bringing the peace so many had sought, but rather an unease in the core of those who dare visit. From an outside perspective, many would say that lack of growth in the community began the decline of the town. But if one were to venture inward and question why a once growing land now seemed desolate, they would receive a different, very superstitious answer. Most residents faced with such a question would start by saying, “It fell apart the night the Robinson’s lost their baby.”

In hours before the disappearance, the residents had been uncomfortable with the arrival of tourists that seemed out of place. People who slipped in and out of town, keeping to themselves, out of direct sight. Visiting the lake but never swimming or casting a line into the water. They arrived at different times in different areas separate but as a group. Conversations with the newcomers were brief. Only asking directions or ordering food and other supplies. Before the sunset on the day of the disappearance, they were gone.

The Robinson’s had been unaware of the strange visitors continuing their routine as normal. The infant had been laid down at seven-thirty, the parents beginning their nightly ritual before bed. At nine pm, the Robinson’s had retired. The night air was cool, silent, and still. In the middle of the night, a single swing broke the silence of the woods, shattering the window to the infant’s bedroom. A hooded figure swiftly entered the room pulling the now crying child from its crib and retreated into the woods where six other silhouetted shapes waited. The theft, so quick that by the time Mr. Robinson entered the room he could already hear the cries of his son fading into the trees.

Fifteen short minutes later the neighborhood lit up with porch lights and handheld torches. Concerned residents racing towards the faint cries. The lights guiding the way, led to the lake. Many dim flashlights shone over the water’s surface barely revealing the shapes of several small boats and figures which appeared to be people in long dark robes. Frantic cries echoed from the lake’s center as those on the shore rushed to get boats in the water. By the time they were halfway to the center the crying ceased. Once at the center the boats and figures were gone.

For over a month the townsfolk searched the lake and surrounding woods hoping to find any evidence of what became of the Robinson’s child. They found nothing. The infant’s body never recovered, nothing left behind in the child’s room, not even a clear idea of where the strange boats had entered or left the lake. Connections between the tragedy and the unusual visitors were brought to light immediately but quickly turned to nothing as no one could give accurate descriptions of the people who had come to town that day. The loss, unfortunately, became a kidnapping cold case, but the people who had begun the search for the baby that night still believe something more sinister had been at play. In the years following the town slipped into a depression and the lake itself took on an unpleasant dark personality.

The first to realize the change of the once serene place was Ben Pagely. Ben came to the lake in the summer months to enjoy the cool waters and reel in large, delicious fish. Upon returning after the fateful night, he found his escape to no longer be what it had been. The town and residence, warm and welcoming in the past, now were cold and distant. The lake, cool and refreshing, now had a warm muggy atmosphere. Trying to not let an off-putting beginning to his vacation ruin the reason he had come, Ben continued to place his boat in the water. This task more strenuous than it ever was, the lake pushing against the weight of the vessel. As it floated the boat became still, the water grabbing to the sides in a way that appeared unnatural. Ben looked around the lake seeing that the vegetation closest to it was wilting away, turning to a gray color and around him the air smelled of rotten eggs. At the center, he found the silence eerie. Ripples not coming off the sides of his boat but as though the vessel had rested on the very top of the water. For several hours he sat with his line cast never seeing the bobber shift. Noticing that the sonar attached to the boat did not detect a single fish and could not find the depth. Whether a malfunction or the superstitions of the townsfolk getting to him, Ben docked his boat in a hurry. A failure of a relaxing trip, Ben realized the magic of the lake was lost to him. He returned to the city, his vacation home up for sale attracting not a single buyer.

The magic was not lost on only Ben. All who called the townhome felt the change from that night. All but one. An avid camper spent many nights near there with his wife when both she and the lake were alive. Alone, Paul Iverson pitched his tent between the pines hoping to find the peace he remembered. The quiet, though uncomfortable at first, allowed him time to relive the moments spent in these woods with the woman cancer took too quickly. Huddling near the fire Paul thought deeply about how his annual night out was spent by himself. No one to talk with or to simply spend silent moments together. Wiping the corners of his eyes every few minutes thinking how he would give everything to not be sitting feeling empty in these still moments. With the fire dying down and the moon rising to its highest point in the sky, Paul entered his oversized tent into his sleeping bag. Falling asleep releasing a slight whimper, tears streaming down his face.

In the late hours of the night Paul experienced something otherworldly cutting his camping trip short. He returned to town the following morning sweating and exhausted. Shouting tall tales of hearing the waling of an infant followed by the presence of his wife. Though in his retelling, he never actually saw her. Only the shape of a shadow cast onto his tent wall from the lantern he had hung outside. Even the shape he described did not match Diane’s description. Paul had spoken of a slender form of an almost starving person who was shorter with longer hair. Diane had been tall and strong and wore her hair short. Not a person in town believed him and a disgruntled man gathered more supplies to take back to the lake for another camping trip.

A week later, no one saw Paul. Another search party went to the woods to find yet another missing person. Finding only a vacant campsite and no sign of the distraught man they had all seen days ago. His clothes left near the dead fire and the footprints of what many assumed to be Paul’s and a separate set were found heading towards the lake.

Having never found Paul’s body, more superstitions spread throughout those who did not have the option to leave. One such person was the young Jacob Torrez. Over the many months Jacob had overheard the conversations of his parents with the other adults. Never fully understanding the context in which they spoke, knowing only that people had gone missing around the lake and that one person had even seen someone who had passed on. These conversations made Jacob think of his Nana and that if one person had seen someone maybe he could too.

Wanting to return to the day in day out of his Nana’s presence the young boy slipped from his parent’s sight in the afternoon, the lake not being too far from his home. Unsure of what to do once down at the rocky shore the boy played for several minutes alone. Finding skipping stones that did not skip but skimmed across the lake, the water rejecting them then giving in. Finally sure that he was alone, Jacob turned to the lake and said, “Nana?”

No response.

“Nana?” he called again.

No response.

“Nana, are you there?”

Not a single bug or bird sounded in the area. Wind blew through the forest rustling the pines but never affecting the surface of the lake.

“If you’re there, Nana, I’d like to see you.”

No response.

Jacob knew his parents would be looking for him soon, and after gazing around the lake and woods he made his way back home.

Once home Jacob completed his nightly tasks and went to bed. Forgetting what he had done earlier in the day. The boy woke to the sound of a crying infant, echoing in his ears. Jacob sat upright, the only light being that of a small globe near his bed. On the window nearest him the faint tapping of fingernails could be heard on the glass. A shaking hand slid the curtain to the left revealing a small elderly woman standing fifteen from the window. The porch light illuminated the figure outside. Jacob could see thin gray hair on a wrinkled head. A white damp nightgown extending down to its feet. The shape of the face and body appeared to be that of his now passed Nana, but the eyes, he could not see. They were like black pools in the thin face, shadowed from the light. Curious, the boy slid the window open leaving only the screen between him and her.

“Nana?” the boy called into the night.

“Mijo,” the figure responded a smile spreading across its face. Eerie at first but becoming warm the longer the boy stared. “Mijo, you’ve gotten so big.”

Jacob remained unsure as Nana’s answers were robotic. The slender frame perfectly still in the darkness. “I can’t see you, Nana.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mijo. I can’t come any closer,” it replied remaining where it stood. “How are you? How’s your papa and mama?”

“We’re good,” Jacob answered leaning closer to the screen.

“Oh, that’s so good. How is school going? Are you making friends?”

“Yeah, I have five friends, they go to school with me.”

“Oh!” it exclaimed with a relieved sigh, “I’m so happy for you. Do you have a best friend?”

“Sam is my best friend.”

“Very good, Mijo! I haven’t seen you in so long, are we still best friends?”

Jacob paused with a mixture of excitement and confusion building inside his head. He had been told many times at the funeral that one day he would see his Nana again, however he never expected it to happen so soon. “Yeah!” he yelled as quietly as he could so that his parents on the other side of the house could not hear him. “We’re best friends!”

“That makes me so happy. I wish I could play with you, but I can’t come to the house. But there is a place we could go together.”

“Where?” Jacob questioned.

“Where you came looking for me. We can play as long as you want there. When you’re done, I’ll bring you home.”

“At the lake?” remembering that Mr. Iverson had seen his wife there.

“Yes!” it exclaimed the smile on the face spreading wider. “Meet me at the front porch and we’ll go.” The figure did not step back into the woods but rather glided back to where the light did not touch it.

Jacket on and boots laced, Jacob ran out to the porch. Outside the figure stood waiting for him several feet from the house. Jacob followed it into the woods towards the direction of the lake the figure maintaining a large gap between itself and the boy. Unbeknownst to Jacob, the moment he let the screen door slam behind him, the light to his parent’s bedroom switched on and the two began a search throughout the house.

Silently the two walked through the trees. Jacob stared up at the back of the woman he once called Nana, her shape taking on a more ghostly movement the closer they came to the destination. Behind him Jacob could hear a muffled yelling, but they had gotten so far from it that he could not make out what it was. All he knew was that it was one word.

Breaking the silence Jacob asked, “What are we going to play, Nana?”

“Let’s go swimming,” it replied not looking back.

“I thought we’d play hide and seek like we used to.”

“We can play it in the lake.”

“How do you play hide and seek in the lake,” he asked the yelling behind him growing louder and closer.

“Well, you go under the water, and I’ll try to find you.”

“it’s cold. I don’t want to go in the water.”

“We have to go in the water first,” it demanded. “The water is where I can play with you.”

“I don’t want to go in the water,” Jacob complained. “It’s too cold. I don’t want to be cold.”

“You’ll do what I tell you!” it yelled into the darkness, stopping for the first time since they started their walk.

Jacob froze behind it. The warm feeling, he had felt back home now turned cold and frightening. The muffled shouting behind him clear now, were shouting his name. Hearing his name echoing between the trees snapped Jacob out of the trance of wanting to go any further.

Jacob said shifting his body to go back. “I wanna go home.”

The thing before him stood completely still as it questioned, “You don’t want to be with me?”

Jacob knew more than anything that he wanted to be with his Nana, but without saying it felt that what stood before him was not her. “I want to go home,” he answered.

The thing claiming to be Jacob’s Nana cocked its head from left to right, the bones in its neck cracking with each movement. Its hands now visible to him were twitching at the sides. The old fingers popping and growing into long sharp claws. Jacob’s heart pounded in his ears as the unnatural movements ceased. Leaving the creature in an uncomfortable position. Not a sound came from the brisk night air until Jacob saw the head begin to turn to the left. The vertebrae in its neck let out a pop at each degree until his Nana’s head faced him. In the moonlight he could now see that the shadow had not hidden her eyes but that there were no eyes in the skull at all. Jacob fell backward in fear, hands digging into wet dirt and damp fallen pines.

Heels digging into the dirt and hands gripping at the ground he turned to run, his Nana’s jaw-dropping farther than normal letting out a sound incomparable to scream. The noise vibrated through his bones but still he ran faster than he ever would again. Its arms twisting upwards and the body falling into a backward crab crawl chased after its prey. The form growing longer towards the boy, most notably the neck extended five feet from the body the mouth reaching out to his feet. Jacob’s own body became weightless to him, like running in a dream. He could see the image of his home, his safety, growing nearer. Just before reaching the porch a clawed hand-hooked his jacket ripping into the fabric causing him to fall. The monster flipped the small body to its back towering over it letting out another unearthly sound. Jacob could see the neck and head extending towards the sky preparing to come down for a final strike. In his right palm he felt a large pine branch and grabbed it to shield him from the monster. By fate he had positioned the branch exactly where the monster’s mouth would come down on, shoving it down the elongated throat. The beast, now choking, lost its grip on the boy giving him his chance to escape inside his home. From the living room window Jacob saw the wounded monster pull the stick from its mouth and retreated to the woods. He also retreated to his parent’s bedroom where they would find him several hours later curled in a ball sobbing in the corner of their closet.

For nights Jacob did not sleep and spoke not a word for months. For the rest of his life, he would have violent panic attacks whenever moving closer to the lake or if the lake itself were mentioned. When his story had eventually been told it was considered by most the tall tale of a grieving child. To the superstitious members of the town his story became another in the mystery of the lake, however it was not the most violent.

A townie named Beth Gunderson woke up every morning prepared to spend the later half of her life preventing anyone from reaching the lake. In her telling of the story, the lake or rather something in it, tore her husband to pieces before her eyes.

Beth and Dan lived their entire lives in the town. Growing up, attending school, and eventually falling in love there. They raised a son to the age of seventeen until one night their son sat passenger of a vehicle driven by a friend who should not have been driving. Their son was the only one to not survive the crash. They suffered the loss together, though in their own way. Dan remained strong through the grieving attempting to save his wife who could not see past the unfairness of it all. Dan failed at saving her. Beth slipped further into depression seeking the past rather than seeing the future. Visiting her son’s grave and the place he had been taken from her many times each day. Whether being a monster or not as described in the stories she heard, Beth found herself at the lake hoping to catch a glimmer of her son. Hours each day she spent by the waters, ignoring the life and husband she had in town. Until finally one day she heard the crying. The sun low on the horizon, the lake still visible. At the center ripples formed as a head and torso emerged from the water.

Not a word had been exchanged between the two, but Beth knew without a shred of doubt David made his way back to her. She made a dash for the water and before reaching its edge David resubmerged out of sight. Dan would not believe a word of this. Arguing into the night Dan struggled to bring reason back to the distraught mother.

“I know what I saw,” she said calming herself as the fight died down from shouting.

Dan rubbed the back of his head losing what words he planned to say.

Taking her husband’s hand she pleaded, “Just, come with me. You’ll see it’s not just stories.”

Dan, tired of the debating, agreed. They would go there together and maybe shake his wife from this dream.

Hands clasped, they stood near the lake as Beth called out their son’s name. Not knowing how much time had passed since their arrival, Dan stared at his wife wondering if she could be woken from the nightmare she had created in her mind. The entire time feeling that they had done nothing but waste the day, Dan decided to give in. He too felt the nothingness in Beth. He knew life meant nothing since losing David and for a moment gave into the desire of seeing the son he helped grow. Changing his perspective was like flipping a switch in reality. The crying infant, audible to both of them now, ripples appearing across the still surface in the shallow portion of the lake. The shape of David rising into view.

Dan’s hand slipped from Beth’s, tears filling the corners of his eyes stepping towards his son. He walked through the thick waters asking for his sanity, “David?”

Their son extended his arms for the embrace of the father. Dan fell into the body of David squeezing tightly. Beth stood at the shore sobbing to herself allowing her husband to have this moment.

“David!” Dan wailed squeezing tighter feeling the warmth of his son. “Oh God. My boy. You’re really here.”

David’s grip never tightened around the father’s body. Limp arms seemed to rest on Dan’s back. The body of David grew noticeably colder and colder as it said, “Oh… Father… How… I… Have… Missed… You…”

Dan felt the body he clung to become mushed and soft. Pressing his hands in David’s shoulders pushing away he saw a grotesque figure. The face and flesh of his boy sagging off its bones as though falling apart. In the surrounding water, Dan could see many other shapes moving beneath the lake’s surface towards Beth. He looked back to his wife, eyes shut and tears still streaming down her face, coming nearer to him. Dan regained his sanity. Shoving what claimed to be his son back and rushing to his wife through the water that pulled at his legs. Before the other bodies could reach her, Dan pushed Beth so hard that she somersaulted backward onto the land. Her eyes now opened watched as her husband struggled to reach the shore. Shapes that she could only describe as skeletons with thin decaying skin barely covering their bones sunk claws into Dan’s arms and legs, rendering him immobile. Behind Dan, the melting creature posing as David approached.

Dan shouted his wife’s name and “David” shoved both hands into the corners of Dan’s mouth. In one terrifying moment it tore all the tissue from Dan’s skull killing him instantly. The other creatures dismantled the lifeless body pulling every piece of what was Dan down into the lake. Dan’s blood did not reach the shore or Beth. No evidence of foul play nor a crime were ever found.

The town added another missing and what most considered a crazy widow to the tale. Beth would keep guard over the lake until her dying day. Realizing if she accepted what had happened, she would not have forfeited her future, and that the suffering of what is new is brought on by clinging to the past.