Mystery Lake

It happened a year ago. Marissa had thought of it constantly, incessantly, every single day since. And yet, no matter how often she replayed the scene in her head, she hadn’t been able to make sense of it. At least, not “acceptable” sense. Not the kind of sense that logical society would believe as true. As possible. Until now, a year later, Marissa had been on her own when it came to the disappearance of her brother, Cedric.

Her therapist, her mandated therapist, insisted that she’d conjured the “monster” (the therapist’s air quotes, not Marissa’s) as some kind of metaphoric coping mechanism. The community had spent weeks searching the lake and surrounding woods for a body that would not be found. The police had questioned various criminals and other undesirables for information they did not have. Marissa was the only one who knew the truth, because she was there. She’d seen it. All of these attempts were futile. The thing that took her brother was not human.

They had been playing outside after school one brisk fall day. It had been raining for almost two weeks straight, and Marissa and Cedric had felt cooped up. Even though they were both in high school, they went to explore the woods by the lake behind their house. It wasn’t sunny, but with reprieve from the rain they headed out to play like they used to when they were younger.

They were on the edge of the lake, which was strange in and of itself. It was called Mystery Lake, because it had baffled scientists and environmentalists for over a century. Marissa always thought people had the most boring way of naming things; 1st Street, 2nd Street, “Mystery” because it was just that – a mystery… The mysterious thing about it was that it was perched up a high cliff above a bay. It had no discernable source and its levels never changed. No streams or rivers fed into it, but it did have a waterfall that crashed down into the bay. It was said to be over 60 metres deep. Because of its depths, the water was always dark as if it was filled with black ink instead of water. Marissa’s aunt used to say that it was coloured by the dark secrets of their small town. Secrets it had been forced to witness and absorb without being able to flee. Older than all of us, it holds everything and will still be here after we die. So, it held still and held on, dark and brooding.

Having grown up beside them, Marissa and Cedric never thought too much of the myths about the lake or woods. When they played, they liked to make up their own stories. On that particular day, Cedric had been teasing Marissa. He had been saying a monster made of mud was going to rise and swallow her up. It wanted her bones for her own, so it’s muddy body could stand. Then – WHAP – a ball of mud came flying by her head. It narrowly missed her and hit the tree behind her with a splat.

“Oh-ho,” she shouted, “If it’s a mud war you want, it’s a mud war you’ll get!”

They carried on like this, laughing and whipping mud at each other. Cedric decided to climb a tree, to get a better angle on his sister. She saw what he was up to and hid under a bush. From there, she could see him but he couldn’t see her. The branches protected her from incoming mud balls, and she thought she was pretty clever. This cleverness is why they both weren’t nabbed that day. From this vantage point, she witnessed everything and was safely hidden.

First, they heard it. A third voice. Only, it wasn’t a third voice. It was a laugh; Marissa’s laugh. Coming from the opposite side of the tree. Marissa called out to Cedric to sit still, that it wasn’t coming from her. They both froze where they were. Then they heard it again and again, getting closer all the time. There was something unsettling about the laugh – not only because it sounded just like Marissa. It was unsettling because it was the same distinct sounds over and over again, like a recorded laugh playing on a loop. The same chortle being repeated.

“Mar – maybe we should get out of here,” Cedric half whispered, half shouted.

“Shhhhh, don’t move!” she called back, “Something isn’t right!”

And as the words came out of her mouth, she saw it. It was and spindly and dark, almost too dark. It seemed to be made of a darkness that gave it mass. It grew behind her brother, rising out of the forest from the direction of the lake. Marissa’s eyes bulged and she opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. It wasn’t that she couldn’t scream. Her voice was just not there. She saw the mass contort to a humanoid shape. She saw it twist, using the mud and sticks and bits of forest to build itself a face. It was like a face if someone drew face based only of a verbal description of one. It was like the faces people drew when they were high on acid. Not quite right. Perturbed. Socket eyes an gaping mouth. From this disturbing face, Marissa heard her own voice. This thing had stolen it.

“Cedric,” her voice whispered in his ear, for it was easily now as tall as the tree branch Cedric had been hiding in.

Cedric’s spine stiffened and Marissa could only watch. He turned his head slowly and to both of their horror, the face grinned hungrily. It seemed as if it was pleased with itself, pleased with its successful trick, pleased with its obvious prize. Time had slowed, and then sped up. The speed at which things happened next felt like time snapping back to catch up with itself.

Cedric spun around and jumped into action. He pushed himself out of the tree. The creature extended a claw-like hand, with fingers ever growing. It wrapped them around Ced’s body twice easily. His feet only just grazed the forest floor and he was being encased into the thing, its body becoming a cage. Quickly, too quickly now, they were disappearing back towards the lake. It was as if the trees distorted and formed a vacuum that sucked them up. Everything looked wrong, and then they were gone. They were gone by the time Marissa stood up to chase after them.

“CEDRIC!!!” she screamed, her voice returned. “CED, WHERE ARE YOU!!!”

By this time, night was falling and she only had the flash on her phone for light. Besides, she knew what she saw. The thing that took Cedric was clearly powerful, it could manipulate space and time. Marissa turned from the forest and ran to get help.

The following year had been a whirlwind of authorities. Doctors, psychiatrists, detectives, teachers, therapists, the police. Uncomfortable chairs and fluorescent lights. Marissa’s frustration was confused with madness when no one would believe her. Throughout this process, she learned to lie. If the regular channels of help wouldn’t help her, couldn’t help her, she would have to find and save Cedric on her own. So she lied to the authorities and feigned what they called sanity, all the while never giving up the truth from her heart.

Marissa started spending a lot of time at the library. Good, because to her parents and healthcare professionals, she was “getting out of the house.” She told them she was volunteering there, but she was really doing research. Good, because libraries were naturally discrete and quiet places. Nobody was concerned when she borrowed books on the occult or otherwise weird. Good, because it was there that she met Florence.

Florence was the librarian. She wasn’t a dowdy old woman like one may picture when thinking of a librarian. She was younger than that, but still older than Marissa. She looked fairly normal at first glance, but upon closer inspection, there were signs of her connections to the spiritual world. An Evil Eye pendant worn around the neck, crystals sitting on the check-out desk that would she would often change. Dark red finger nails filed into subtle points. Florence would later confide that she actually wore her nails like this because it made her feel like she was in Mad Men when she typed, but it gave her a witchy appearance nonetheless.

Towards the end of close one day, Florence approached Marissa. “Excuse me for interrupting,” she said, touching Marissa lightly on the shoulder. Marissa had had her nose buried in a book about goblins. She was wondering if gold could be traded for Cedric’s safe return, and if so, where the hell was she going to find a pile of gold?

Marissa jumped and stared at Florecne without saying anything at first.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, but I’ve noticed you in here most nights and I’ve also noticed what you’ve been reading…”

“So?! I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Marissa spat, snapping the book closed, “It’s a free country. I can read what I want.” She felt hot and stupid for using a cliché, but it came out of her mouth before she could really think about it.

Florence, who was calm and graceful by nature, ignored Marissa’s retort. “I know who you are,” she said, “I’ve seen you and your family on the news. I think I know what you’re up to, and I think I can help.”

“Is that so” quipped Marissa, who was tired of people making fun of her.

“Yes, it is. There are strange and powerful beings that live in the lake and the woods. Ancient beings. Beings that many wouldn’t believe in, even if they witnessed them first hand.”

At this, Marissa softened.

“I don’t think it’s a goblin that took your brother,” Florence continued.

“What do you think it is then?”

“I don’t know myself, but I might know someone who will,”

That is how Marissa came to meet Florence’s grandfather, Terry. Their family had lived in the area for centuries. They had been before the settlers came, and he told her Mystery Lake had been there before that.

Myths from their family had originally called Mystery Lake “Lake of the Gods.” Terry told Marissa that in the old days, they had made offerings to the spirits of the lake to ensure good harvest. He told her that the things that lived there were older than the Earth itself. The Spirits of the Forest, he had said, give life each spring and take it back each fall. It had been fall when Marissa and Cedric had been playing in the woods. Time is different for things that exist forever, Terry explained. Maybe the Spirit mistook Cedric in the tree as an offering, like they used to receive. Or maybe, the Spirit was angry because it felt forgotten, and thought the humans owed it something. Spirits could be prideful creatures, very prideful indeed.

“So, what can I do? How can I save Cedric?”

“I can’t say for sure, but you can try to strike a bargain.” Marissa thought back to the goblins and their love of gold. “No, not with gold,” said Terry. “Cedric is clearly more precious to you than gold and it will know that. Throughout history and theologies, gods and spirits are known to be bargained with, although they may not always play fair.”

Marissa thought hard. She couldn’t think of anything she owned that meant nearly as much to her as her brother. Cedric was her constant her companion, her best friend and her blood. What could she possibly trade?

“A life for a life,” said the grandfather.

“A what?!” cried Florence, taken aback.

“I didn’t say it had to be a human life. It just has to be worth the same to both Marissa and the Spirit. The Spirit may be feeling neglected and therefore angry. You must find a way to restore the balance in its mind. On the one year anniversary of Cedric’s disappearance, return to the woods at Golden Hour. Call the four directions and four elements to open a portal to the spirit world. Call on your ancestors to protect you. Call forth the Spirit to summon it. If it comes, which I’m guessing it will, offer your deal. The rest is up to Fate.”

Florence and Marissa left with much to think about, and together they hatched a plan.

On the one year anniversary of Marissa’s loss of Cedric, she returned to the woods. Marissa thought the Spirit might not trust if she brought Florence, so they made safety plan involving walkie talkies and a promise to be out of the woods by nightfall, with or without Cedric. The wind blew as if it knew something was about to happen. It ripped through the trees, rough and wicked.

Marissa bolstered herself and ventured in. Though she was nervous, her love for her brother was greater and she used this to steel herself against the fear. When she got to the tree, she could never forget it, she did what the grandfather said. She called the four corners and called for her ancestors. She asked Mother Earth to continue to carry her. And then she called for the Forest Spirit.

At first, nothing. Nothing at all. Too much nothing. Even the wind waited. Marissa called again, fiercely and unwavering.

“What do you want, human?” The voice came from all around. She spun, but couldn’t see anything. It was like the voice as simultaneously inside and outside her head.

“You stole something from me and I want it back.”

“Impossible,” low, guttural rumbling like thunder, “You are in my forest. Everything in it belongs to me.”

“Not true. The thing you too, the PERSON you took, he wasn’t meant for the woods or lake! He’s mine. He’s made from the same flesh and blood I am!”

“Hmmm,” The Spirit whispered all around. Now Marissa began to see it, the heavy shadow move between the trees. Growing around her, shrinking to one spot. Slinking through the trees like a velvet cape.

“I’m here to offer you a trade, Great Spirit of the Wood,” she stroked its ego, like Terry had told her.

Enticed, it slithered, “Go on.”

“A life for a life. My life, and then some.”

“You wish to take his place?”

“Not exactly, but I promise to devote my life to you”

“NOT ENOUGH!” Waves crashing hard on the shore, the wind picked up and seemed to cheer as it rustled through the dead leaves.

"Just listen, Forest Spirit. In return for my brother - mine, of me - back to where he belongs on this plane, I will plant for you a tree every year of my life. Life for a life. The trees will grow for far longer than either of us can live, and each tree will add to the forest. The forest will then live for hundreds and hundreds of years. One life for many lives, do you not think that's a fair trade!"

A cyclone whipped around and the horrid face from the year before appeared. No human body this time, bigger than before with just the sketchy features. It opened its great mouth and from it tumbled --

"Cedric!!!" She flung herself forward and wrapped her arms around her brother. She checked his face, his limbs, he seemd unharmed byt dazed.

"Every year Marissa -- every year or I will take the lives of every child born into your family. Every year!"

With that, the wind died and the forest calmed. The waves on Mystery Lake returned to a gentle lapping on the shore.

Marissa wasn't sure if she had just laid a curse on her family for futures to come, but it didn't matter. How she would explain Cedric's return to anyone else didn't matter, she'd think of something.

Nothing else mattered, because she had done it. She had won her brother, her best friend, back.