City Lights

Today is the anniversary of her death. Can you really call it death, though, if there is no body to speak of? Today is actually the day they stopped looking for Corie. That girl who seemed to stare back at Alice through her reflection. She was a little older. A little broken. More than a little lost.

Ten years have passed since Alice last spoke with her twin. She often ran through their conversations in her head. Was there anything she could have said? Anything she could have done? She came here to get closure, but found herself feeling unmoored than ever.

Knowing it was too cold, Alice removed her snow boots and dipped her toes in the icy water. It rippled, blurring the image of her face so eerily reminiscent of her lost sister’s.

Those dark eyes seemed to haunt her wherever she went. She took to covering the mirrors, but the girl from the past persisted. She lingered in every puddle, every window and yes, even the still waters of this lake. But, did it matter if she could hide herself? Her sister was there each time she closed her eyes.

She watched her feet transform, pale and blue to candy pink, and wondered what it would be like to watch them die. Lumps of dead flesh, turned black and unfeeling but still adhering to her body, unwilling to let go. Clinging to something with which it no longer shared a true connection. With a sigh, Alice pulled her throbbing, dripping feet from the water, and rolled her wool socks over them.

Before her disappearance, Corie had become obsessed with Midnight Gorge. The water was crystal clear, sapphire blue, deep and mysterious. Surrounded by tall, snow-capped mountains, in a valley carved by glaciers. It was no wonder the place remained a popular destination for would-be hermits and cold-loving wanderers.

Corie and Alice visited Midnight Gorge every June since their childhood. First, with their parents, and when they reached adulthood, they continued the tradition on their own. The sisters loved kayaking and exploring pine-shaded trails.

They looked identical, but were fraternal and their personalities couldn't be more different. In their 20’s, Alice, the more adventurous of the two, would seek out other visitors. She never tired of hearing their stories, especially once they started drinking. For Alice, a vivid social life full of interesting people was essential.

Corie would sit in the cabin and write. The wondrous landscape out her window played the part of her muse. Or, she would sit on the pier and ponder. Alice was never sure what went through Corie's mind at any given moment, but she admired her inventiveness. Unfortunately, Alice suspected that Corie’s creative mind eventually led to her doom.

As girls, they swam in the glacial waters, diving deep in search of mermaids. It didn’t matter that they never found any, the enchantment of the place still lingered. A place set apart from the dreariness of the world. Somewhere all their own.

In her early 30’s, Alice married a bright-eyed, cheesy-grinned mechanic with big dreams. They moved several states over and that year, for the first time, she missed a trip to the mountain resort.

Corie was beside herself at first, but relented when Alice suggested she take the time to finish her debut novel. Her beta-read had gone over well, but they had some suggestions, and encouraged Corie to think of a sequel. So, she packed up her laptop and drove to the cabin.

After the first week on her own, Corie called her twin, breathless and giggling. She’d finished the edits and they'd been well-received. She told Alice she planned to start an outline for its follow-up right away; her voice full of sunshine and wistfulness. Starting a life with her husband, Alice was glad her sister found joy in being on her own.

The second week, Corie sounded distant. Her tone was small and flat. She mentioned seeing someone walking on the beach at night. A shadowy figure that left no footprints.

“The person didn't look right,” she said.

“It’s probably just another tourist. Things look scarier in the dark.”

“Maybe…” There was a silence then, vaster than the miles that separated them. Alice wanted to reach through distance and hold her sister.

“How’s the new book?” Alice asked.

"It's fine, " Corie replied, exhaling loudly. She made an excuse to hang up, then. Alice worried.

At the beginning of her third week, she told Alice the specter had been following her.

"It didn't have a face", she said. "It didn't have eyes. But it's watching. I can feel it, even in the dark."

"Corie, are you sleeping? Mom will come check on you if you need her to. Hell, I'll be on a plane if you need me."

Corie was silent for too many passing moments. "No, I think I'm just letting my imagination get the best of me." She choked out a laugh.

Soon after, she was gone.

The last anyone had seen of her, she was sitting in the sand, watching geese and intermittently throwing breadcrumbs to them. That was shortly before sunset, and the neighbors couldn’t remember seeing her return home. She didn’t stop by any of the restaurants, either.

They organized a search party to comb through the wooded hills and limestone caves. Men and women from all over the countryside marched through groves and thickets, calling her name. At night, the forest was alive with flashlights, scouring the cliffsides, meadows, and trails.

They even talked of draining the lake but had scuba divers investigate the murky floor, instead. They were unsuccessful. The only thing they ever found was a handwritten letter on her desk.

She wrote:

“Dear Alice

The voices have been speaking to me. No, not speaking. Singing. They reverberate in my head and I can’t think of anything else. They want me to be with them. At first, I was afraid, but now I feel very calm. I know what I’m supposed to do. Nothing’s ever been so clear to me.

I think they love me. Like family. I should be with them in the lights at the bottom of the lake. There's a city down there, you see. I’d like to visit it. Tell Mom and Dad, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.

Love,

Corie”

Alice tried to move on. How could she, though, when a part of her was missing? Her other half had been torn from her. She never felt more like a fragmented person than the day they stopped looking for Corie. It’s like the lake's stillness is a façade; a vortex consuming life. It drew her sister in, like a moth to a flame.

In the years since Corie vanished, Alice fell into a depression. Her work and marriage both suffered. Her husband told her they needed to take a break and think things over. His face was sincere, full of pain and pity. She shouted at him then, spitting angry words aimed to wound. They haven't spoken since.

Her parents hosted a funeral for Corie. After which, they directed their energies into hobbies and travel. Alice received occasional postcards from Italy, New Zealand, or wherever else they happened to be. She couldn’t blame them. She understood the urge to go to a new location, to someplace Corie had never been. A place where their living daughter wasn’t the ghost of their dead one.

Walking back to her rental, she passed couples and families, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that occurred here years ago. Great pines shrouded the log building in semi-darkness. The tinted windows reflected the serene surroundings.

The pale sky was full of cotton candy clouds, and children called out their shapes. Squirrels frolicked fearlessly near picnic tables, stealing the occasional Cheeto or french-fry from unsuspecting diners. Few people glanced her way.

She hunkered down for the night. She curled on the bed, after throwing the pillows on the ground, preferring to lay flat and drifted in and out of sleep, desperate to dream, but unable to.

Words, not understood, caressed her. Whispers, like melodies. Undefined and utterly hypnotic. Like a tide, they pushed and pulled. She hovered at the edges of unconsciousness before finding herself suddenly alert, and then dreamy once again.

She couldn't remember getting out of bed. She stared out the window, alternating between awe and terror. Something peered back at her. Dusk in human form. It swayed as it warbled. Her vision blurred and refocused to find her own eyes gazing intently back at her. They beckoned, shining brightly. Those aren't my eyes, she thought.

Her feet moved of their own accord, to the door, and down the stairs. The hardwood cooled her bare soles. Leaving the door ajar, she made her way through the parking lot to the road.

She had forgotten her coat. Goose-flesh erupted on her bare skin as she wandered on the lonely trail. The crooning creature lurched awkwardly downhill, as Alice followed. It was shaped like a woman, but its movements were unnatural.

The water glowed. At first, she thought it was moonlight, but the light came from under the surface. Vivid yellow and dusty orange. It looked like stars or city lights from above. Alice fell to her knees.

"It's just like Corie said!" She hollered into the night, no one around to hear her.

"She must be there." Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, as she stood again. The light increased in intensity the closer she was. Welcoming. Calling. Demanding.

The other slipped into the lake, smooth as silk. Noiseless. A sense of urgency bloomed in Alice. She picked up her pace, on feet worn raw by harsh gravel.

By the time she reached the wooden dock, she was sprinting, hair whipping behind her, arms outstretched. Before she hit the water, she saw her sister's smile.

Submerged in darkness, she sank quickly, like her feet were carved from stone. Enveloped in bubbles and blackness. Disoriented. Then, she saw it again. The light. From behind her. She spun and dived deeper, her feet kicking frantically, driving her away from the old world and into this new one.

Unseen creatures darted, swiftly, around her, out of view. Vague figures both aquatic and humanoid circled her on all sides. The currents they created jostled her body to and fro, kissing her skin before disappearing.

Her chest ached for air, but the light brightened with each stroke. Houses like none she had ever seen before, crooked and white, lined the muddy floor. Enormous shells of dappled purple decorated their walls.

The entities floated in openings and near rooftops. The group was alive with chattering; they clicked, clacked, and whooped excitedly. Their skin undulated white and red. White and red. White and red.

If she could hang on a little longer, she could see Corie again. It was this truth, that she felt in her gut and her bones, that gave her strength for one more, powerful kick. Just a little further. She reached out to the community below her, frantic for breath. Her oxygen-starved brain grew foggy. Her limbs grew weak with exhaustion.

A hand clasped hers. At first, it looked remarkably like her own. Corie! Her heart leaped. Relief welled up in her chest, but it was wrong. She could see the fingers, but what held her was something else. Something cold and slick. Inhuman.

Barbs broke her skin, tearing through the muscle. A cloud of blood obscured the creature's true guise. Skin and fat ripped from her bone as she fought to escape. Involuntarily, she inhaled, filling her lungs with black liquid.

Her body was failing as the thing wrapped itself around her, like an anaconda. In its hold, she was helpless. It flexed and she felt her ribcage breaking. Fireworks burst through her vision. She was limp when it released her. Dazed, she floated. It bit into her neck with teeth like needles. Her eardrums popped as it dragged her into the depths.