Lake Spawn

The lights of the ROV illuminate the bottom of the lake, and both men are shocked when a bright yellow oxygen tank comes into view. It is very clean and free of build-up; it doesn’t appear to have been resting at the lakebed long. Edgar sucks in an unsteady breath.

“Go up. Maybe he ran out of oxygen and tried going into one of the underwater chambers to get a breath.” Kent obliges, controlling the ROV to begin a slight ascent, searching for one of the underwater tunnels. An opening finally appears on the screen, and there is further evidence that the missing diver has entered it; a lost diving flipper bobs on the edge of the entrance.

“I don’t remember that tunnel being there,” remarks Kent with a furrowed expression. Edgar shrugs next to him.

“All kinds of things down there. Even with top-notch gear, good luck finding everything.”

The ROV moves through the tunnel with ease, though Edgar doubts he, himself, would fit in the narrowest areas.

“I think you’re gonna have to be the one to go into it if he’s there.”

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Kent nods. “You’ll have to hang around outside the entrance then.”

“Yeah, well, let’s make sure he’s in there first. No sense in making the dive if he isn’t.”

“Yeah. Looks like he should be, though. Think you’re right - he came through hoping for an air pocket. Wonder if there even is one in this or if it’s all tunnel.”

Half a minute later, the walls of the tunnel open up into an underwater cavern. The ROV floats aimlessly in the darkness as Kent tries to gain a scope of the size of it, but the walls are now too far apart to be seen on the screen. Slowly, he maneuvers the craft up. If Mr. Ahlström had, in fact, entered and drowned in the cave, gasses from decomposition should have caused his body to float to the top by now.

A tense few minutes pass as both men scan the edges of the screen for any indication of Mr. Ahlström. The cavern is not as murky as the lakebed, but the ROV has stirred up some silt, causing a slight hindrance to their visibility. Eventually, both take notice of a shadowy shape coming into focus.

Bright, neon green bounces back the light of the ROV. The synthetic color and texture alerts them that this is likely a diving suit. Spying the brand logo, they realize that it matches that of Mr. Ahlström’s reported gear. Using the logo as an indicator, Kent steers the ROV towards where he believes the head will be. When the face comes into view, both men recoil.

“Oh shit! Whew, that is… wow,” exclaims Edgar.

“That is absolutely gnarly!” Kent agrees with disgust, pausing a minute before asking, “So, do you think it’s him?”

“I mean, it could be another body, but the suit matches the report…. Either way, we’ve gotta go down and retrieve it.”

“Right. ‘We’,” scoffs Kent. Edgar smirks.

“Hey, I still have to help bring him to the surface! Do wonder what’s been eating him though; there’s no fish in that cavern.”

“Maybe they left after picking off what they wanted. You know how it goes,” Kent says, trying to explain it away. Still, even as he says the words, he’s not so convinced himself; there’s something off about the wounds.

Half an hour later, both men dive into the lake. The entrance into the tunnel and cavern is around the 40 foot mark, but both men bring down gear, neither willing to tempt their luck with this previously unknown tunnel. Grant, the man who usually helps them out on such underwater missions in the lakes and rivers in the area, stays above in the boat, monitoring the cameras both divers wear to document the dive. In other parts of the lake, they would have done a shore dive, but with this location, the boat is necessary to reach their mark. The divers descend.

The water is cold, fairly clear, and sparsely populated. What fish they do see are rather small - most under 12 inches - and very few are predatory. The two men make their way down, scanning for the opening. Edgar is the first to see the lost flipper rocking on the edge, and indicates to Kent where to go. When they reach it, the two exchange a look and signal their status to one another before Kent makes his way into the tunnel.

After Kent’s fins disappear into the darkness, Edgar looks around. With little of interest to watch, he begins examining the opening. He too finds it odd that this cavern has been overlooked, even after his own dismissal of the subject. He begins to wonder if he’s psyched himself out when he notices marks in the rock and thinks to himself, ‘Are those claw marks?’ He mentally scoffs at the idea - what could carve out a cavern like the one they’d seen on the ROV? The more he looks, however, the more he’s sure these weren’t marks caused by erosion. But he can’t understand what else could cause them.

Meanwhile, Kent works his way through the tunnel. While he can fit, he does have to work his way around some areas; there is no way that Edgar would fit through some of the narrower spots. Kent begins to wonder if he can even safely remove the body, as he’ll have to work the corpse through the narrow areas after himself.

After several minutes navigating the tunnel, he breaks into the cavern.

The body - what’s left of it - bobs in front of Kent. If it weren’t for the bits of the diving suit still wrapped around the remains, he wouldn’t even be able to identify them as human. He quickly moves to put distance between him and the shredded flesh, shocked by the scene. He’s seen bodies that were partially consumed by wildlife before, but this…

...he’s never seen one like this.

He manages to get his heart rate and breathing steadied after a minute, but his mind races with questions and observations. The body is absolutely mangled; the image from the underwater drone had not done the extensive damage justice. He wonders how he’ll get it out of the cavern without losing anything - some parts of the corpse are barely hanging together. Usually, they could use an underwater body bag, but Kent is concerned about navigating the narrow entrance with one.

And then he gets to the head. Rather, where the head should be; it appears to have disconnected from the rest of the body, though Kent cannot locate it readily. With the state of the rest of the body, he isn’t exactly surprised. It doesn’t sit well with him that the head had been attached when they first found the body with the ROV, though.

He surfaces, and finds that there is, in fact, an air pocket. He takes a moment at the surface to decide if he will try to maneuver the body out, or if they will have to leave the remains where they are. As he thinks, he becomes aware that he is not alone in the cavern; something besides the body occupies the cave. A sound behind him gets his attention.

Slurg!

Kent turns slowly.

Eyes. Large, round, glowing eyes meet his from across the cave. Kent moves to shine his light at them, but as the light swings over, whatever it is slips into the water from a small bit of dry rock above the water line. He begins to panic some, uncertain of just what could be in this cavern with him, and he desperately flashes his light everywhere. A sudden pain fills his left leg, the water around him turns red, and Kent feels his muscles begin to tense up involuntarily. Horror at his situation soon fills him, until it is the only thing he is still aware of….

Edgar grows concerned when the hour mark passes and Kent does not return. At the depth and temperatures they are at, they only have a little while longer before their oxygen runs out. Every once and a while, Edgar feels a tugging on the rope between him and his partner, but nothing that would indicate there is trouble. Still, they need to return to the boat soon.

‘He must be having trouble getting the body through the tunnel. He’ll be out soon,’ he thinks. Another ten minutes goes by.

And another.

Edgar finally gives the rope between them a few good, hard tugs; they really need to get moving to the surface. However, he now feels no resistance, and he begins drawing the rope towards him. When the last of it appears in his hands, the end is frayed and destroyed - as though something has been chomping on it. Frantically, Edgar swims into the tunnel as far as he can, shining his own light in the hopes of finding his companion. Upon hitting an obstruction several feet in where he cannot go any further, he begins to back out of the cavern to begin his ascent; he is nearly out of oxygen.

As soon as he breaks the surface, he removes his mouthpiece to yell to Grant, “Hey! Hey, Kent is still in there - I can’t get to him!”

“What!?!” exclaims Grant as he rushes over to help pull Edgar aboard, “What about the rope?” When shown the frayed end, Grant simply stares at it, perplexed. “Uh… the ROV! Let’s use that and see what’s going on!”

After a brief minute getting the gadget ready, they lower it into the lake and direct it to the tunnel. The thirty feet of tunnel stretches on endlessly as they impatiently search for their comrade. Finally, the ROV breaks into the cavern once again. And again, the men recoil in horror.

Kent’s corpse rests at the bottom of the cavern, his oxygen tank too heavy to allow him to float alongside Mr. Ahlström. His face is pale and still; eerily devoid of the life he’d had not two hours ago.

“What happened?” asks Grant, “Did he drown?”

“I don’t think so,” Edgar states with uncertainty, “he’s still got his mouthpiece in…” Suddenly, the men see a large, slashing wound on his left leg. “The hell caused that?”

“Could he have cut himself on a rock down there - bled out?” offers Grant. Edgar shrugs.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Shit. I can’t get them out of there, Grant. They may have to stay there.”

“Damn,” swears Grant, “Should I take you back in then?”

“Yeah, may as well. I’m going to have to explain to Brett how we not only couldn’t retrieve Mr. Ahlström, but also managed to lose Kent.”

Slurg! A strange, wet sound rings out, followed by the rocking of the boat, a loud splash, and a rain of cool lake water spraying over them. The men exchange worried looks.

“What the hell?” asks Edgar.

“I dunno, man. Let’s get out of here.”

As Grant takes the boat back in to dock, Edgar explores the area of the boat he thinks the sounds came from. The boat is approximately 20 feet, and a pool of water on the opposite side from where he clamored onto the boat catches his eye. As do the tracks he finds; one three-toed, the other with only two. He points them out to Grant once they dock, and the two men exchange another worried glance before looking back out at the lake, both questioning just what lies within.

Edgar makes his way back to the cabin on the far side of the lake, where he and Kent have lived together for years on their job site. They’d made quite the pair over the last few years, locating several missing bodies in the large lake and several other water sources nearby; he never thought he’d see a day like today. Kent was just… gone. He then begins his unenviable task of alerting their boss, Brett, of Kent’s fate and answering his - and police officers’ - questions. Hours later, he is finally free to take a shower, and he takes an incredibly long, hot one as he mulls over the loss of his partner and the strangeness on the lake today.

He pours himself a few drinks by the fireplace, looking out the window towards the lake as he wonders what caused Kent’s death. Could it really have been a sharp, underwater rock?

He nods off in his chair by the fireplace, because he is suddenly awoken by the sound of his phone ringing. The land line. He struggles out of the chair and grabs the handset, speaking with a heavy sleep-slur.

“‘Ello? This is Edgar.”

“Edgar!” exclaims Grant, “Edgar, there is something in the lake!” He sounds so worried, Edgar immediately tunes in to pay close attention.

“What?” he asks.

“I dunno what it is, but there was something in the cavern with Kent when he died! I started looking through the videos from earlier a little closer. Kent’s camera shows that there was a pair of eyes on him - fairly sizable whatever it is - and there’s this strange sound before Kent was attacked. I think it was the same as the sound we heard on the boat.”

The last sentence chills Edgar to the bone. He’d forgotten about that after they’d hit land.

“I also found something when I went back to check the boat,” adds Grant.

“Yeah? What’s that?” asks Edgar.

“Eggs. They look like giant frog eggs and I can see these weird embryos. They were in a coiled up rope we stopped using months ago due to damage. I brought a few back to my cabin; they’re really weird.”

“Where the hell do you have those?” Edgar asks incredulously.

“Tub. Embryos are about the size of my fist, man. I dunno if they’re really big frogs or what - don’t frogs start out as tadpoles?”

“They do.”

“Yeah, well, I dunno then. These things have legs already. Three toes each with claws. And teeth; they have these sharp little teeth. Good for catching fish. Big eyes. They’re kinda freaky.”

“So, what are you going to do with them?” asks Edgar slowly. A pause. “Grant?”

“Shh,” responds Grant, “Hold on, I’m hearing something.” A few moments of silence pass, before Edgar hears the sound too.

Slurg!

Grant lets out a horrible barrage of screams before Edgar hears the phone drop. Following the screams, he hears heavy, raspy breathing.

“Grant?” Edgar calls. He hears something approaching the phone, “Grant!?”

Slurg!

Following the sickly wet sound comes the sounds of something feeding. Edgar slowly hangs up the phone, shaking. Taking a deep breath, he calls the police to report the incident, pouring himself another drink as he does so. The woman taking the report seems to be dismissive of his claims, so he isn’t surprised when, three hours later, there is still no sign of the police at the opposite side of the lake where Grant lives.

He considers, for the umpteenth time, going over himself to check things out, but he ultimately fears what he may find. Sleep is far from his mind, so he continues adding firewood to the fireplace, sitting in his chair before it to keep himself warm and in the light. Around 2 in the morning, something catches his ear.

Something is splashing in the water, yards away from the porch of the cabin. Curious but cautious, Edgar heads over to the screen door to look out. He sees something walking into the lake, but it slips into the water before he can get a good look. There is something left on the shore, however, and he anxiously waits out half an hour before gathering the courage to venture down and see what it is.

It is Grant’s head.

Upon seeing this, Edgar rushes back into the cabin, locking every door and turning off the lights until only the light of the fire illuminates the cabin. He places another call to the police, and this time, they respond. A few hours later, he is able to return to the cabin, and his heart drops as he nears it in the early morning light; there are tracks all around the cabin. Many are three-toed, clawed, and webbed, but one in eight only has two digits. Muddy prints adorn the cabin and windows, but nothing looks to be broken. Edgar enters the cabin with the intent to pack up and leave.

He enters and locks the building, then quickly begins down the hall to his room. Upon opening the door, he first becomes aware of the muddy print on the window. The only window that is now open in the cabin. More muddy prints - one three-toed, one two-toed, leave a trail into the closet located just behind him. Edgar feels the hair on the back of his neck rise, hyper aware of the raspy breathing behind him. Slowly, he turns his head to look over his shoulder.

The creature is covered in dark, slimy skin. Its eyes - bright orbs - bulge. Sharp, needle-like teeth gnash. The clawed, webbed fingers curl in anticipation. The creature takes a step towards him, a slight hobble evident from the foot with only two toes. Before Edgar can move, the creature slashes him with those long, robust claws, the area around it on his arm quickly tensing involuntarily. Within a minute, he lies helpless on the cabin floor, the creature moving to loom over him. The last he sees is the creature's large eyes staring back before the sharp teeth come into view.

Slurg!

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