The Call of the Siren

I love the crisp mountain air of Colorado; it’s why I became a Park Ranger. Well, that and I love the wildlife. Obviously. One of my favorite hobbies is to hike and explore trails. Camping out under the stars while listening to a crackling fire is pure heavenly bliss. Thinking about this blissful scenery in my head, I was on the last bit of my scheduled shift when my supervisor Wendy called me. The shrill ring of my cell was drowned out by the tortured groan that escaped my lips. I was hoping that I could start my vacation without hearing from Wendy, but you know what happens when it’s too quiet. Rolling my eyes, I pick up my phone and contemplate whether to answer, but I knew that if I didn’t, she would make my life suck after my vacation. So, I answer the phone barely uttering my greeting as Wendy’s annoying vocal fry blares through my receiver.

“Sarah, I need you to investigate some illegal camping at Twin Lakes. We have had several callers state that there is a campsite on or near the East Lake Trail that has been there for several days. It’s reported that there haven’t been any people sighted so, once you report your findings then you can go on your vacation. Have fun.”

Nodding, I finally get in a ‘Will do’ and ‘Thank you’ before she disconnects the call. My planned 4-week vacation has been in the works for over a year. I am solo back packing through the Rocky Mountains, and everything is packed and ready for me at my cabin’s front door. Thankfully I gave myself a few days before I head to my first trail to double and triple check my supplies. So, it’s a safe bet to say that I’m not thrilled at having to go out looking for an illegal camp site during the time I need to check all my gear. I’m a professional though and I will do what is asked of me.

After placing a few last-minute items in my overnight pack, I toss it into the passenger side of my Ranger truck and head out towards the East Lake Trailhead. The sun is still high in the sky and the rays of light are filtering through the trees casting shadows at the edge of the highway. It’s always beautiful driving up this way in the Autumn. Pulling into a parking space I notice that there are only a few cars in the parking lot. It’s not uncommon for last minute hikers to get in a scenic walk as the leaves begin to turn. Hefting my pack onto my back I check the passes in each of the car windows. I find two of them were day passes stamped today and the third pass’ stamp date was three days ago. I notate the pass number and the license plate number I check the rest of the car and note that it is clean with only a few items in the back seat. The windows are all rolled up and the doors are locked. Nothing looks messed with or that the owner came back for it. “Great” I mutter to myself. It looks like this person abandoned their car as well as their campsite. I make another notation to check with hospitals to see if emergency vehicles were dispatched near the trails. This is already turning out to be more than a simple abandoned campsite call.

Sticking my notebook into one of my cargo pants pockets I head out onto the trail. I can’t help but admire all the plants and trees lit up by the bright midday sun. Some of the leaves have decided to turn a bit early, so the mix of oranges and greens fills me with a sense of calm as I walk. Today is perfect for a short hike and for a short time I forget all about why I’m out here. The soft crunch of gravel under my boots. The chirps of birds. The rustle of leaves from the wind. They all lull me into a peaceful trance as the sun warms my skin. After ten minutes I finally hear the gentle lapping of water from the lake. Turning off the main trail I walk up a small hill. East Lake is laid out in before me, beautiful and magnificent. The sun glitters off the surface of the lake like diamonds. Temporarily blinding me, I turn my gaze to the bank of the lake, scanning for the illegal campsite. As I’m doing this a weird feeling grows in the pit of my stomach. Like I just swallowed stones. Ignoring the feeling, I mutter a few expletives as I make my way closer to the lake since I couldn’t see a campsite.

As I approach the lake the feeling in the pit of my stomach intensifies. It’s like every step I take towards the lake is being watched by someone in the shadows. Scanning the shoreline all I see are trees. That feeling crawls up my spine leaving freezing tingles in its wake that even the warmth of the sun can’t dissipate. Shaking past the feeling, I walk up the bank for about a half mile before I finally reach the campsite Wendy called me out here for. It’s just a bright orange tent in glaring contrast to the greenery that surrounds it. The mouth of the tent faces the lake. I lean down just outside of it to take a quick inventory of the contents inside, which includes a sleeping bag, a backpack, and some various camping gear. I shrug off my backpack before reaching inside the tent to grab the other backpack. As I pick it up, I hear a soft thump as a moleskin journal drops from the backpack to the sleeping bag. Retrieving it, I back out of the tent and find a large rock to sit on and investigate the contents of the backpack.

The backpack is just a standard camping bag. It has various camping gear, a camelback bladder, state park maps, and a clutch wallet. Inside the wallet I find a driver’s license for a Deborah Sterling of Aurora, Colorado. Her driver’s license photo is of a middle-aged woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. I make a note of her address and driver’s license number to call in so that a missing person’s case can be opened. The reports state that this campsite had been abandoned for several days, which makes sense by the date stamped on the car in the parking lot. Where could she have gone? The thoughts swirl around in my head as I pack everything back into the bag. The feeling of being watched continues to intensify as I catch myself staring at the middle of the lake. Like something is going to come out. Shaking my head I dispel thoughts of creatures lurking in the lake and grab the moleskin notebook. I flip it open to the second to last entry:

September 21st, 2021 10:53am

“Set up my camp along the bank of the East Lake and it is beautiful! This is the last camp that I will set up this year ending my 100 camps in 100 day’s journey I’m on. East Lake however holds a special place in my heart since this is where my mother took me as a child. She did tell me several times not to camp near the lake since there is folklore about a creature that lures women into the water, but I never really believed her. I am getting the weird sensation of being watched, but I assume it’s just the wildlife wondering what I’m doing out here!”

7:47pm “It’s weird. I keep hearing my name being called and when I search for the source no one is there. Also, for some strange reason it’s almost sunset. I could have sworn that I just set up the camp. Where was the lost 8 or 9 hours? Another strange thing…the birds stopped chirping.”

Clearing my throat, I try to recall the folklore she is referring to, but the only creatures that come to mind are Sirens. Sirens appeared in Homer’s ‘The Odyssey’ as half-bird half-woman creatures that lured men to their deaths. Over the years though people have said that Sirens evolved into mermen and mermaids luring people to their deaths near large bodies of water. I guess a lake could hold a creature like that. I stare at the inky black depths of the lake thinking about all the creatures that could be lurking in its cold waters when my smart watch suddenly chimes releasing me from my thoughts. Looking around I realize that it’s almost dark outside. How could I have lost track of daylight that fast? A cold clammy feeling crawls up my limbs as I look at my watch. I had less than an hour left until sunset. What the hell happened?! Deciding I need to call Wendy and have her call all of this into the authorities. I quickly finish my notations, but before I close the moleskin journal my eyes catch the last entry.

September 23rd, 2021

“I can’t take much more of the singing anymore. Every time I try to leave the lake edge my head begins to ache violently. Someone is calling my name.

He is calling me to him.

He is calling me home.

I don’t think that I can resist him anymore.”

Her handwriting becomes erratic, a glaring contrast to the curvy looped cursive from her prior entry. Shaking my head, I pack my little notebook back into my backpack. “She must have had a mental breakdown”, I say softly as I look around the lake. Sighing, I need to call Wendy. I take my cell phone out of my pocket when I notice I have no signal. Odd? I normally get a great signal. I walk closer to the trail, but nothing happens. So, I walk in the opposite direction towards the lake where I finally get two little bars. I punch Wendy’s contact info listening as the phone rings. It goes to voicemail and while Wendy’s extremely annoying voice blare through the receiver, I hear something coming from the lake that makes my skin instantly crawl. It’s a voice. A male voice singing. I slowly turn staring at the now eerily calm lake trying to find the source of the singing. When I hear the ‘Beep’ from my phone I start to leave a voice message.

“Hey Wendy, it’s Sarah. Look I found the camp site and collected everything I need, but I think that we might have a missing person case. Can you…”

My voice suddenly freezes in my throat. My heartbeat quickens as the voice becomes louder and more melodic. Dropping my phone I scan the dark waters, that’s when I clearly hear him.

“Sarah… Sarah… Come here my pretty Sarah…”

“Hello?” I finally force my dry throat and lips to call out. “Is anyone there?” There was no answer. His song envelopes me like a warm blanket on a winter night. Tingles flow freely up and down my limbs as his voice penetrates the deep depths of my mind, causing a mental fog. I don’t hear anything other than his beautiful baritone voice.

“Sarah… Come to me…”

In a fleeting moment of clarity, I realize that it’s dead quiet. No birds are chirping. No crickets. No insects. No animals scurrying around the banks. Nothing. Nothing except the sound of my breathing, the thud of my heart slamming against my chest, and his beautiful haunting song. Deborah’s words pop into my mind, ‘The birds stopped chirping…’ and ‘Someone is calling my name…’. Fighting through the mental fog surrounding my thoughts, I manage to call out weakly, “Who are you? What do you want?”. I desperately try to lick my dry lips, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. My hand moves to my lips in a feudal effort, but I feel cold droplets of water drip down my forearm. Confused, I look at my arm, seeing the water drip freely I force myself to look down. Shivering, I realize I’m almost waist deep in the lake. How the hell did I get this far out and not notice? Looking up I see that the moon has risen, casting shadows across the lake surface. His song begins again lulling me back into its now familiar embrace that’s when my eyes catch the ripple in the lake and a man rising from the depths.

He is built like a perfect Adonis statue; skin so pale it practically glows in the moonlight. The water dripping off him glitters like diamonds, I can’t seem to look away. His dark wavy hair clings to his forehead, as my gaze shifts to his eyes I’m struck by how iridescently blue they are. The intensity of his gaze makes his iris’s practically glow as his perfect full lips continue to sing his melody about our bodies entwining in a passionate embrace. He continues to rise from the surface, as I watch the water slowly trickle down his pale skin; over his six pack abs my fingers itch to touch. He glides soundlessly towards me barely making any waves as he moves effortlessly through the water. My limbs grow heavy when he reaches me, cool hands touch my now overheated skin.

Everything around me blurs as his intense gaze hold me firm. Nothing matters other than his azure blue eyes, his cool hands running over my body, his lips so close to mine begging me to close the distance. My body begin to float when he suddenly disappears into the dark murky depths of the lake. Two hands then grab my ankles yanking me downward. It isn’t until I was fully submerged that reality comes crashing back to me. The icy shock of the lake breaks the spell he has over me. I know that I need to get away as I fight the urge to breathe. Franticly I swim up to the surface my clothes and boots weighing me down, but my head breaks the surface. I take a huge greedy gulp of air before hands violently grip my legs pulling me back under. It’s pitch black below the surface, and I can’t see anything. Thrashing my legs about I try my hardest to kick whatever it is off me. Quickly I feel my body becoming fatigued, the surface of the lake gets further away the further down it drags me. I need to live. I need to live. I repeat this mantra over and over in my head as I keep kicking my legs fervently. Miraculously, my foot collides with something solid, the hands that were grabbing me fall away. Staring up at the moonlight I swim for the surface. My head breaks the surface and I breathe in cold night air as I swim towards the shore.

My boots slip on the lake silt as I race to get to the shore, my whole body is numb as I scramble up. I’m still knee deep in the lake when my blood freezes as an ear-piercing screech echoes around me. I turn to see the once beautiful Adonis man transforms into an otherworldly terrifying creature. Its eyes are black as the murky depths of the lake. Scales covered its entire body as it moves in an almost serpentine motion. It screeches again flashing rows of white sharp teeth, glinting in the moonlight. Its’ webbed fingers elongate into equally sharp claws as my body starts to shudder uncontrollably. I don’t have any time to think as it catches up to me slashing at my chest and abdomen. Sharp pain blossoms in my chest, but I don’t dare look down. I need to keep moving. I force my body to keep fumbling backwards, still knee deep in water hinders my escape. Its claws continue to slash at my legs as try to maneuver away from it. It seems to sense that I am close to shore. It grabs my forearm pulling me closer as it rears its’ head back and sinks its’ fangs into my bicep. The mind searing pain engulfs my body as my screams now ricochets around us. I force my body to react by bringing up my fist hitting it square in its gills. It screeches again releasing my arm as I back up the embankment, onto dry land. I watch the creature slink back into the inky depths of the lake. Its’ lips form a sinister smirk, its eyes never leave mine as its blueish grey tongue licks up all the blood smeared around its mouth.

My body finally succumbs to blood loss and causing me to promptly pass out. I wake up several hours later in a hospital in Boulder. Thankfully, Wendy listened to my voicemail and called the authorities. They found me bleeding out near the water. I never mention the creature in my final report to Wendy. I simply tell her that Deborah walked away from her campsite, and it could have been due to a mental breakdown. I explain that the slashes were from a mountain lion, but I could tell that people don’t really believe me.

His haunting melody still calls to me at night. I wake in a cold sweat fighting my urge to go to him day after day. But tonight, is different. Why can’t I fight him anymore? I’m tired of fighting. His beautiful lullaby calls me back to the water and I willingly go to him. My Adonis stands, arms outstretched, smiling as the water calls me home.