The Black Lake

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. John let out a sigh as he blew out the match; the errant flame extinguished as it nipped at the tips of the bare fingers of his otherwise mittened hand. It was still Summer, but the mountain air carried an increasingly distinct chill as nightfall fast approached the remote, sparsely wooded hillside.

Exasperated was not the word. After spending the last two hours picking up trash and cleaning the awful mess the teenagers had left in the fireplace, his disposition was less-than sunny.

He'd arrived just in time this afternoon—the very moment the dishevelled-looking bunch were stirring from their intoxicated slumber following the late-night end-of-summer revelry.

With the amount of booze and snacks they'd brought along, it looked like they'd planned to stay another night before John got there to put a stop to it, "Looks like I've arrived in the nick of time!" John said as loudly and as deeply as he could muster.

Stepping over the threshold, swinging the door open as wide as it would go to expose the groggy, sleepy-headed teens, strewn across the old wooden floor bundled up in their sleeping bags, to the golden light of the sunny late August afternoon.

"Come on, you lot, get up and get packing." John continued as he whipped open the curtains dramatically, allowing bright beams of sunlight to flood in, startling the ashen-faced youngsters spread across the floor.

"Once you're ready to go, I'll walk you out as far as the weir. From there, you can get the rest of the way by yourselves. Remember to collect your rubbish and inform your parents you're on the way home too. I'm not sure what you've told them of your whereabouts, but unless you'd like me to have a word, you better get a move on!"

Doing his best to keep a straight face and maintain authority, John couldn't help but secretly chuckle to himself. He had no intention of reporting the kids' audacious high-jinx to their parents. After all, he used to come up here with his friends to do precisely the same thing when he was their age.

Besides, by the looks of them, most of the party must be approaching maturity anyhow, he thought. One kid he recognized as a Saturday boy at the local electrical shop. Another girl he knew worked week-day mornings over the Summer, serving tourists at the ice creamery down the road from where John lived. The very same ice-cream parlour, in fact, he used to visit with Mary and their daughter, recalled John with a wince. He sighed internally at this memory as the familiar sting of loss and confusion shot through his nervous system, bringing tears to the corners of his sad, blue eyes. As they did every time he was reminded of her and what he'd lost. Most of the other members of the spotty, soprano-voiced group were clearly celebrating the close of Summer before their final year in school commenced next week. With a notable exception, however.

"Millie Jones!" John exclaimed with genuine chagrin. "I'm surprised to see you here with this lot! Aren't you only thirteen? Does your Mum know you're out here? I might be tempted to chat with her. She works in the post office, right?" At this announcement, the listless teens found the inspiration needed to reconsider their plans for the coming evening. As they hurried into action, stuffing clothes, hats, and half-finished bottles of wine into their backpacks. John suppressed a wry smile. No, he thought. No need to make trouble for them with their families. The parents of the older youngsters wouldn't care as their kid is nearly eighteen and, after working all Summer, deserves a night or two of carefree teenage abandon. Some of the other parents he knew wouldn't care for different reasons. So sad, he thought to himself. Some of these young'uns don't have much chance when no one’s bothered where they are day or night… At only thirteen, it's not right. She's not much older than my Chole, John thought.

After a couple of hours of cleaning, the excitement, and private enjoyment of witnessing such young, wild zest for life, had thoroughly passed, John's thoughts grew sombre. Reminded as he was of his ex-wife, Mary and their daughter, his precious little girl. Off on the other side of the world, as if he never existed or even mattered to them. He wondered where they are now and why they hadn't called; It's been over a week since I heard anything. John ruminated with deep frustration. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he said to himself between gritted teeth. His face flushed as he bit back familiar hot tears of loneliness, loss, and grief.

When John joined the team charged with looking after the bothies chasing off gangs of angsty, hormone-fueled teenagers was not what he'd had in mind. He'd envisioned spending his summer weekends coming up here. Hiking, camping, fishing, and meeting exciting, adventurous people from all over the world. He dreamed of laughing, joking, and connecting with new friends around summer night campfires. Just what he needed to take his mind off his bitter divorce from Mary and the agony of being separated from his little princess.

In his wilder moments of reverie, John imagined what it would be like to cross paths with an outdoorsy, backpacking divorcee. Drawn to Snowdonia's rugged, isolated beauty in a bid to escape the city grind, find renewed vigour and a fresh lease on life following her own particularly messy break-up. "Hmm," John sardonically scoffed in self-admonishment for daring to entertain such preposterous daydreams. Of course, these fantasies never lasted long in John's mind before he started feeling foolish. "Even if I did meet someone new, there's no chance they have anything to do with a loser like me," John hissed bitterly. "Nothing exciting ever happens to me," John mumbled grumpily, resigning himself to the feeling of abandonment.

The final wisp of smoke diffused silently from the end of the spent match. John looked out the now illumined window at the lengthening evening shadows and saw two hikers heading straight for the bothy.

"That shelter seems to be getting further away, not closer!" Jenny complained.

"Don't worry, we'll be there soon." Replied Elsie, trying to sound reassuring but unable to mask her testy tone.

As they grew nearer, what at a distance in the fading light looked like an abandoned cabin nestled on the edge of a large stand of weathered pine, came better into view. Now, within a few hundred yards, they could see that although the shelter was old, it was far from derelict. The steep, sloped timber roof gave the building the air of a dilapidated wooden logger's cabin when viewed from afar. On closer inspection, the irregular-shaped stones of the walls, held together with ancient mortar, previously hidden by the low, steeply swooping, storm-beaten rafters, identified the construction as a Victorian-era workman's bothy. The National Park was littered with them. The ones still in use today were kept habitable by volunteers, intended for hapless hikers seeking respite from bad weather. Else had read all about them in her guidebook. "I really hope that place has a working hearth," she said as the chill of the fast-approaching night settled across her shoulders.

"Won't be much use without firewood," Jenny retorted contrarily.

The pair had set out early that morning from the flat they'd rented in a nearby village at the foot of the hills. They'd planned to trace a circular route. Taking in the views from the highest peaks of the range before descending back to the comfort and safety of the flat, in the picturesque little village whose name they couldn't pronounce. The nameless hamlet was comprised mainly of local stone and slate buildings. Ranging from a generation to hundreds of years old. The village came complete with an old-world charm that made it look like it had been lifted from the previous century and transported forward in time. A remnant of a by-gone era, as if to serve as a reminder of better days long lost to memory.

The walk, however, had taken much longer than anticipated. On the route down from the high-ground, the pair realized making it back before dark wasn't to be. Thankfully, both had brought sleeping bags, and neither were strangers to camping out. While both were privately pondering the less-than enthralling prospect of a night of wild camping with minimal gear, the hikers rounded a bend in the trail. They spied what looked like an old cabin on the opposite side of the valley. The decision to head for the shelter was easy in the failing light. "At least it beats bedding down with the sheep and wild horses," Else said, forcing a cheerful tone.

"Yeah, let's see if it's even habitable first. We might just end up in a worse pickle than we already are. If that place is derelict, we're in for a cold night up here." Jenny pessimistically replied.

"True," said Elsie. "But if it's not, we'll be quite comfy. And if it is abandoned, camping next to it will be a darn sight better than a night on the open mountainside. Anyway, where's your sense of adventure? We've been in stickier situations than this and in much sketchier places too."

"Urgh, don't remind me," Jenny responded darkly. "I think my days running around random parts of the world with nothing but a tent and fleece were over a while ago. ''I knew we shoulda gone for a spa weekend instead."

"Oh, stop your whining," said Elsie, half-annoyed at her companion's consistent negativity but doing her best to sound playful in her rebuke. "This is just what we both needed after the last year. Fresh air, not too many people to bother us. Look how beautiful this place is… and how amazing were the summits! I could swear that was Ireland we could see in the distance!" Elsie responded with genuine glee. "We could see for miles up there! And how lovely are the wild ponies too?! Honestly, I'm glad we came just to see them. Camping out under the stars—beats the noisy old city any day."

Jenny's grimace didn't budge, but she said nothing. I love Elsie for doing her best to cheer me up… I wish I could enjoy this, even if just for her sake. She complained to herself.

"Anyway, we're almost there now." Elsie chimed in her soft, musical lilt. "And look," she continued, "It is one of those bothies I read about. Not abandoned or derelict!" Elsie felt excited at the prospect of staying overnight in such an unusual place, somewhat smug at being correct in the face of Jenny's never-ending commitment to expecting the worst in every situation. And a touch relieved they won't need to sleep outside.

The two friends headed up the rising path, less than twenty yards from the promise of a warm, comfortable place to rest. Two sudden, unexpected flashes of light pierced the deepening darkness descending about them. They both stopped in unison, halted squarely in their tracks, startled at the unforeseen illuminations. A candle sparked to life in the shelter's window facing their approach up the incline. Lighting up the room beyond the window, containing the figure of a man inside. As if this wasn't enough of a surprise, at that exact moment, in almost perfect synchronicity, a great, bright flash streaked across the evening heavens above. What looked to be a meteor passed directly overhead. A very unusual meteor. Unusual in that instead of the customary streak of momentary white light, the immense, resplendent tail of the short-lived celestial wonder was uncommonly, shockingly bright. So bright, in fact, that they both unconsciously shielded their eyes with gloved hands as it passed over. Its shine, more like the blaze of an explosion, lit up the sky above a queer shade of green before fading as quickly as the short-lived flash had come into view. It was the strangest colour that Elsie had ever seen. "A shooting star!" She almost squealed with delight.

"Not like one I've ever seen!" Jenny replied worriedly. "Did you see the size of the flash!? Almost blinding! Never seen anything like that before. Plus, what a weird colour! What do you even call that colour? An oily mix of pink and green? So strange! It almost makes me feel sick to recall. And where did it go? Meteors burn up at high altitudes. Whatever it was passed directly overhead and disappeared over the hill behind the cabin. But in front of the mountain, we've just come down from… A distress flare, perhaps?" Jenny pondered out loud.

"Nonsense," Elsie said sharply, "A flare lighting up the entire sky like that!?" No chance. Besides, this is rural Wales, not the Matterhorn." Both looked at each other in a moment of silent apprehension.

"A satellite, maybe?" Jenny ventured without much confidence. This suggestion made no change to Elsie's concerned frown.

"Maybe," Elsie said in a non-committal tone, without taking her eyes off the cabin, its window, and the dark shadows cast beyond its silhouette by the retreating daylight. Momentarily transfixed on the deep blackness between the bothy and the mountain range towering in the near-distance behind, she shivered. The Sun must be just setting, she thought to herself. Although, from their vantage point, now low-down in the valley, no direct sunlight had been visible for some time, protected from the horizon on all sides, as they were. This made estimating how much light remained quite impossible. But the deepening navy hue of the sky above confirmed that it would soon be pitch black.

"Come on," Else insisted. "It's no good standing out here worrying about it. Let's find out who's in the cabin and check in to 'hotel remotelle.'" She laughed at her quip with a flick of her hair. Despite her moment of apprehension at the impromptu light show, Elsie could barely contain her excitement. This is what I came away for, she gushed silently. "Been too long since we had a real adventure, my wee Jen-Jen!" Elsie said out loud to her compatriot. Jenny held to her silence. The look of trepidation on her face announced that she did not, even in small part, share Elsie's optimistic sense of adventure.

Just as the pair arrived at the ramshackle green doorway, it eased open to meet them with a plaintive creak. Standing upon the threshold, peering down towards the pair approach up the path, was a tall man of early middle-age with messy blond hair, dressed in trail-worn, but good quality, outdoor gear. By the looks of his clothing and general demeanour, he was not unaccustomed to being in such remote places alone at night. His blue eyes had a sadness to them, which struck Elsie instantly. Despite the sorrow he carried, his ice-blue irises nonetheless retained a playful, youthful sparkle. Although he appeared somewhat ordinary, he was from certain angles quite handsome, Elsie noted to herself.

"Hi," said John tentatively. ''Are you two lost?''

"Something like that." The pretty, dark-haired woman nearest the doorway said with a broad, bashful grin.

"We're staying in a village down that way somewhere." She gestured vaguely with a graceful sweep of her arm. "We set out at sunrise to summit the peaks and see the ponies. But seems we underestimated how far the walk back is... Or maybe we overestimated how fit we are these days." She finished with a slight chuckle.

"Speak for yourself!" Retorted her taller, spectacled companion, feigning shock. "We didn't expect the elevation," she explained. "The map was quite off-kilter compared to the distance we walked."

More than fit enough, from what I can see, John purred silently regarding the petite, dark-haired woman who spoke first. Feeling flushed at his attraction to the stranger, he hastily continued the conversation; "Yeah, these foothills drop and climb far more often and steeply than the maps make out. Easy mistake to make." He continued, sensing their embarrassment at being caught out in the mountains ill-prepared. Covering his reddened cheeks by turning to let them both inside, he thanked the encroaching dark for obscuring his blushes.

"Come on in. I'll light a few more candles and get the fire going." He said as he reached for his matchbox. "I'm John, by the way," he said with a grin, trying but failing to regard them equally and not just stare at the petite, dark-haired one.

"Hi, John By-The-Way, nice to meet you," the raven-haired woman replied, flashing a cheeky smile, showing off her pearly white teeth. "I'm Elsie…and this is Jenny," Elsie said amiably, catching the look of slight embarrassment John was struggling to conceal. She thought that tonight might not turn out to be so bad after all.

John couldn't help but notice Elsie's long silky dark hair, almost midnight-black in the candlelight. Her piercing, green-grey eyes twinkled knowingly as she smilingly shed her windbreaker from her seated pose. She seemed to glow in the soft firelight. John could make out her high cheekbones and exquisite features. Elsie was of fair complexion, which made the shapely redness of her sensual, comely mouth stand out in stark contrast to the milky whiteness of her skin. Although youthful in appearance, the fascinatingly beautiful stranger was clearly not a damsel in distress type. She came across as supremely self-assured, unflappable, radiating calm confidence. Like she'd been there, done it all before, and got the t-shirt to prove it. She looked like very little could phase her. John admired these qualities as he took her in as much as socially acceptable upon first meeting. He calculated that they must be around the same age. All three of them, in fact. Jenny was taller and broader than Elsie, with bespectacled brown eyes and a shock of thick curly light brunette hair, almost sandy blonde. She cut a more motherly figure than her mysteriously intriguing companion.

"Oh, it's good to finally sit down," said Jenny. "That was no leisurely ramble in the hills!" She added as she and Elsie each took a seat on opposite sides of the beaten-up antique table in the middle of the room whilst John busied himself lighting more candles.

"Distance can be quite deceptive up here," He replied reassuringly. "It's not uncommon to run out of daylight, even in the Summer. And it's at least two more hours back down to civilization. Or at least what passes for civilization in these parts." John chuckled.

"We found the village quite charming," said Elsie, with an off-hand flirtatiousness John couldn't help but enjoy. "So, what brings you up here all alone?" she asked him quizzically.

"I'm a volunteer," John replied. "We look after the bothies in our spare time. It's more of an excuse—it gives me something productive to do. Since I'd be out here anyway, I don't mind it." John went on, "I got a call from a local farmer last night informing me that a group of teenagers were up here gallivanting again." John said with a smile. "After sending them home, I stayed to give the place an airing out and a bit of a clean-up. Surprising how much mess a group of teenagers can make." He said with mock exasperation. "Lucky you arrived when you did. I was about to head home when you saw you two coming up the hill."

"Well, it looks like we'll be staying here the night," Jenny interjected. "Another two hours hike in the pitch black doesn't appeal."

"No, I wouldn't recommend it either. Not without headlamps, at least. The ground is less than even, and you'd need to ford the river twice on the way down to the village," John responded.

"Don't let us keep you, though," furthered Jenny. "We're big girls now, not afraid of the dark," she quipped.

"Or why not camp out here with us?" Elsie quickly interrupted. "I haven't had the chance to speak to a new person this trip. Especially not a local. I bet you've got some great stories about this place. You can regale us with ghostly tales of witches and haunted cabins!" She said theatrically. "It'll be fun! Unless you want to wander around in the dark by yourself all night?" She added jokingly.

"It is a long way back," John said as neutrally as he could manage. Pretending he was mulling over Elsie's kind, exhilarating offer. "Besides, if those teenagers double back thinking I'm gone, you could find yourselves caught amid an underage drinking party. Best I accept your kind offer and bed down here for the evening. That is if you're sure you don't mind sharing the shelter with a stranger?"

"Nonsense! We're practically old chums already." Said Elsie with a self-satisfied grin. At this, Jenny rolled her eyes but remained cordial.

"Well, while you get to know each other, I'm heading to the river to fill my water bottle and freshen up. Do you have a torch I could borrow, John?"

"Was it something I said?" John inquired as Jenny switched on the light of the loaned headlamp. She walked out into the night, closing the door behind her.

"No, don't worry," Elsie assured him. "She's been through a lot this last couple of years." She replied in a sombre tone. A look of deep sorrow crept across her unique, other-worldly face. "We both have, I suppose," Elsie explained with a distant look.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, and I don't wish to pry, but…." Elsie cut him off almost immediately.

"Well, I'm currently celebrating my third divorce!" Elsie giggled to mask a moment of genuine, almost imperceptible melancholy. "Released back into the shallow adult dating pool just about six months ago," Elsie said with a sadness that seemed a bit put on, but John couldn't tell. She seemed to brighten instantly with an added whimsical hand gesture. "It's all good," she went on, brushing the bad memories aside with the flick of her delicate alabaster wrist. "Just didn't work out. One of those things. Obviously wasn't meant to be. You know?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately, I do. My wife left me a few months ago. Took our daughter and moved to California with her new partner. We went from happy families, to I'm leaving you for another man and moving across the globe quicker than I could fathom why. I'm still confused. No real explanation. I guess she'd just got bored of me." John felt his eyes fill with tears. "It would have been bearable had she not taken Chole. Very little I can do about it, though. I came home from work one day to them gone, just like that. Nothing but a letter, which said very little, left behind for me."

"That's monstrous!" Elsie exclaimed in shock. "How could she do that!? Your poor little girl must be just as confused as you!"

"I've no idea," said John. "I can only guess that Mary, my ex-wife, must be telling all sorts of lies to Chloe behind my back. She used to call every couple of days, Chloe that it is, but that's becoming increasingly rare. She's only eleven. Not a clue what she makes of all this." John continued with the unmistakable grimace of unresolved pain written across his open, friendly face.

"Well, if it's any consolation, she must be mad. You seem lovely—" The door creaked open coyly, and Jenny stepped back in. Switching off the headlamp and handing it back to John, she took the empty seat at the head of the table.

"You're just in time!" Elsie proclaimed, doing her best to hide the sudden spike of disappointment she felt as her friend interrupted a sweet moment of connection. Her words were accompanied by a grand, sweeping arm gesture to lighten the mood. "John here is just about to tell us a scary campfire story and offer us a nip or two from the hip-flask he's deftly been hiding in his jacket pocket."

"How did you know about the—" John began but was cut short by a raise of Jenny's hand.

"Careful, John, she's a wily one, is our Elsie. Plus, she can sniff out good quality booze at twenty paces." Jenny added, also somewhat forcedly. John surmised that she must be picking up on the mood from the conversation before she got back.

"Well, yeah, sure. I wouldn't be much of a gent if I refused to share a dram with two lost damsels such as yourselves." John teased.

"None for me, thanks," Jenny responded. "I'm gonna hit the hay." She looked tired and sad, Elsie thought. Nothing new. She'd certainly brightened up somewhat since the accident but was still a shadow of her former self.

"I'll come with you," Elsie offered without a second thought.

Jenny's hand shot up again, "I won't hear of it." She said sternly. "You two enjoy your tipple. After that walk, I'll be straight off to sleep anyway."

John lit the paraffin lantern and carried it to the bunk room behind the fireplace at the back of the building. "I'd suggest rolling out your sleeping gear on the high bunk shelf in case you get cold. It stays warmer longer up near the ceiling."

"Thank you." Replied Jenny wiping tears from her eyes. "Don't fret about me." She added with haste. "Just tired. Long day." She said, adopting a tone as light as possible, contrary to her eyes' look. "Good night!" She said finally.

John seated himself across the table from Elsie once more. "Is she ok? She seems awfully sad about something." He asked as he offered Elsie a nip from his flask.

"Eighteen months ago, her husband and daughter were killed in a car crash," Elsie explained quickly in a half-whisper as she gratefully took the flask and had a long swig.

"Oh my God, that's terrible!" John exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Her husband, Jack, had just picked their daughter up from school. When a drunk driver ran a red light and slammed right into the passenger side of the car. Annabel had just turned fourteen. Bet neither of them even saw it coming. Both were killed instantly. Not the drunk driver, though. He was fine. Not a scratch on him. Saved by the airbag, would you believe it. None of it would've happened if they'd been a few seconds earlier or later. Such a senseless tragedy." Elsie finished with tears welling in her eyes. "It's been incredibly tough for her," Elsie said mournfully, handing back the flask. "I wondered for the first six months if she'd ever stop crying or if she'd even leave the house again. She's fearlessly brave. If that was me, I don't know how I'd have gone on living."

"Yeah." A vacant, haunted stare crossed his face. "Terribly sad." John spoke softly. "You might think me wrong, perhaps even evil, but sometimes I imagine Mary had passed away. Instead of just upped and left. Sometimes it feels easier than continually wondering what I did to upset her so much or what her new yank boyfriends got that I don't. You probably think I'm crazy." He added with a slightly concerned glance.

"No, not at all! Makes perfect sense. And if it helps you process the grief, frankly, I'm all for it." Elsie said as she warmly clasped his hand as it rested on the table in front of her. "Besides, I've imagined almost all of my exes dead at some point. Even wished it once or twice." She said scornfully, attempting a laugh she didn't feel in the hopes of lifting the mood.

John mirrored her self-effacing humour with a snort and a smile. "To be honest, I think you're the brave one." John chuckled. "I've barely coped with one divorce. No idea how you're so cheery after three of the bastards!"

Elsie couldn't help but laugh. How strange to feel intensely drawn to someone she'd known all of an hour, in such bizarre circumstances, too. Against her better judgment, she couldn't help but feel at home in his sad, strong presence. When a thought suddenly occurred to her, "Hey, did you see that shooting star? Lit up the whole sky a weird green colour just as we arrived."

"Can't say that I did," John said haltingly. But as he responded, Elsie noticed a strange, dark shadow pass over his eyes. As Elsie wondered if he might be lying, she felt a sudden discomfort as a chilly draft reached across the room, "Nope," he rushed on hurriedly. "Didn't see anything like that. Although occasionally, a walker reports strange lights in the sky around here. Never seen that sort of thing myself, though." John recovered his composure quickly as Elsie brushed aside the creeping fear.

"Yeah, it flew past really low and came down behind the hill at the back of the bothy." Elsie ventured. The uneasy feeling she encountered when she and Jenny witnessed the shooting star, or whatever it was, came over her again.

"Down into the lake, you mean?"

"Oh? There's a lake back there?" Said Elsie, slightly puzzled.

"Yeah. It's why this place was built in the first place. It was a reservoir up until recently. The name literally translates as 'The Black Lake,' Pretty much all the ghost stories you'll hear in the area centre around that lake." John said with an intensity Elsie didn't expect as he gestured behind himself, stabbing his thumb in the direction of the back of the shelter. "You can't see it from here, but once you round the hill behind us, you can't miss it. It's only accessible from one side—a natural gap between an otherwise circular ring of peaks. In the gap, there's a shore—a small shingle beach at one end. The rest of the lake is enclosed by sheer cliffs on all sides." John explained. "An unknown number of planes have crashed into the mountains and fallen into the lake over the generations. Civilian and military. No one is quite sure how many wreckages are down there, but it's quite a few, more than all the other lakes in the area combined. This has led some to speculate that the lake is like a mini–Bermuda Triangle or something." At that moment, John noticed his own intensity and let out a wry chuckle to dispel the tension in his voice. "There's even a tale or two of local cults performing black magic rituals at the lake!" John said, forcing a giggle of disbelief. "Whispered rumours of human sacrifice too, I'm not kidding!" He said provocatively. "I mean, can you really believe such a thing?"

Elsie picked up that he was trying to make light an unsettling subject. Given the quite peculiar evening so far, she happily joined in. "Yeah, well, if I'm going to be sacrificed to the old ones, let's get it out of the way. I have a hair appointment the day after tomorrow." They both laughed at her eye-rolling sarcasm. "Perhaps there's a crashed alien spaceship down there," Elsie said with a taunting, cheeky grin and a wink.

"You're not one of those I-want-to-believe, UFO hunter types, are you?" John said in teasing jest. "My ex was into all that, never put much store in it myself. I figure that if there is such a thing as life beyond the stars, why would they be so interested in us? Surely, they'd have better things to do than anal-probe kidnapped rednecks and mutilate unsuspecting cattle."

They broke into hard, deep belly-laughs at John's joke. Quickly hushed to silence by Elsie as she remembered Jenny was asleep in the next room. This made them both want to laugh even louder. Suppressing snickers with hands over their mouths and tears of glee in their eyes, like naughty school kids trying not to disturb their parents. Elsie felt like a teenager. This was beyond cute. She felt excited and safe in the company of a man for the first time in many long months. At that moment, their eyes locked on each other. The world seemed to stop as Elsie blushed, and John's heart began to race. They both knew what this moment meant. What was sure to happen next. Drawing it out languorously, Elsie eased in slowly towards John. In turn, John leaned in to meet the most gorgeous pair of pursed red lips he'd ever seen.

That very same second, just before their lips met, John's phone let out a loud buzz from his backpack across the room. He silently cursed whoever was getting in touch so late at the worst moment possible. John gave Elsie a sheepish grin and rose to get his phone from his bag.

"Everything ok?" Elsie asked as John stared at his phone screen in disbelief.

"Mary just messaged me. Said she's been trying to call. Say it's an emergency, and I need to call her back immediately." John stood agape for a moment staring at his mobile, fighting racing thoughts. He took a deep breath to find a sense of calm so he could plan his next move. "Are you gonna be ok here if I head out for a bit? The signal is spotty at best down here; probably why Mary's calls didn't come through. I'm gonna hike up the side of the valley to see if I can get better reception."

"Of course," Elsie said, trying to sound supportive. "Take your time. I'll be fine here. Not like I'll be going anywhere in a hurry, anyway." She said with feigned lightness as the strange chill feeling returned. This time around, her guts twisted in nervous anticipation.

"It’s probably nothing," John said, sounding distinctly unsure of that statement. "Best I go quick," he said absently, half to himself. "Just to make sure everything is ok."

"Sure, I'll try to save some whisky for you," Elsie said, redoubling her affected air of nonchalance.

"Be right back," John said as he swiftly crossed the room, and headed out the door, phone in hand.

Jenny tossed fitfully. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Annabel. This wasn't uncommon, but today it was different. She felt a sense of blind desperation she hadn't before. Her head swam with bitter sweet memories of life before the accident. She could almost smell her. It was like her poor little girl, taken from her so young, was somehow nearby, just out of reach. Jenny, thought she even heard her voice in the wind more than once while walking today. She rolled over in the tight, restrictive bag. Soft whispers of "Mum?" coming from the darkness around her, fevered her restless slumber.

Elsie was beginning to get nervous. John's been gone over an hour now, she thought worriedly. Not a sound had come from the bunk room the whole time, so Elsie guessed Jenny was fast asleep. She got up from her chair at the fireside to chuck another log onto the dancing flames. Standing up and pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders, she crossed the room to the window to peer out into the blackness of the night, wondering if John would be back soon. As she pressed her face closer to the cold window pane, a sudden pale white figure loomed towards her out of the darkness. Elsie jumped back with a start. The apparition had the most fearful look on its face Elsie had ever seen. The ghost came nearer the window. In desperation and shock, Elsie recoiled further and let out a sharp scream in terror. A loud thud from the next room startled Elsie further as Jenny came charging in wearing nothing but her base layer, swiftly pulling on her outer clothes, with an equally fearful look about her.

"What's wrong?" Jenny forcefully insisted, throwing on her fleece and grasping the terrified Elsie by her shoulders.

"There's a face outside. Someone's out there. Looked like a ghost!" Elsie was beside herself.

"Where's John?" Jenny yelled in fright. "What the hell is going on here?" She muttered as she moved towards the window, abruptly taking charge of the situation. Peering through, she saw, just as Elsie described, a white hooded figure. Standing in the shadows, further back from the window, the apparition must have backed away after giving Elsie a shock. Jenny remained calm as she squinted to get a better look, "Hang on." She said in astonishment. "It's a little girl!

"Annabel? Is that you?" Jenny whispered in shock under her breath. She couldn't believe her eyes for a moment. "Child! Not a ghost!" She said aloud to Elsie, making for the door in a hurry. Swinging the door wide, Jenny shouted, "Are you ok!? What are you doing here all by yourself at night?"

"Where's Mr Peters?" The girl muttered timidly, backing away from the startled Jenny.

"Who's that?" puzzled Jenny.

Elsie appeared on the doorstep, "You mean John? The man who looks after the bothy?"

The little girl nodded silently.

"He's gone up the hill to make a phone call," Elsie said comfortingly as she carefully moved nearer the scared-looking girl. Jenny could see why Elsie thought she was a ghost at first, her white jumper glowing in the light of the newly risen full moon, the hood almost covering her face. She looked the spitting image of her Annabel. Jenny decided not to say anything about it.

"What's your name?" Elsie said softly.

"Millie." The girl replied mistrustfully, taking an involuntary step backwards.

Elsie took a tiny step towards the girl, then knelt down, her hands open wide, "Hi Millie. My name is Elsie." She said slowly with a reassuring smile. "Why don't you tell us what's wrong and why you're looking for Mr Peters?"

Millie stayed silent. Eyes darting warily from Elsie to Jenny, then back to Elsie again.

Before Millie could answer, they heard footsteps approaching, coming from the shadows behind the bothy. Just then, John appeared, his face pale and drawn, worry haunting his distant eyes.

"John!" Elsie cried with relief. "Are you ok?"

John didn't hear her. He stood, staring at Millie. A mix of profound horror and unfathomable loss on his gaunt face. His eyes bulged, shining in the moonlight with an unsettling glint.

The look on John's face struck a feeling of panic in Elsie's chest. "John, what's happened? You're scaring me!" She repeated.

Still, John's eyes remained transfixed on the girl. "What are you doing here?" He said at last in a chilling emotionless monotone. "You're supposed to be at home with your Mum."

"Mum's out," Millie replied, not picking up on John's peculiar tone and incessant vacant stare. "Probably drunk at her new boyfriend's house." She said, looking up to meet John's haunted eyes.

John's face flushed red with anger. He looked ready to explode. "What are you doing out here by yourself!?" He bellowed.

Millie's mistrust grew as she took another involuntary step backwards. Elsie wasn't the only one who found John's behaviour alarming. The girl took a deep breath, preparing to blurt out her explanation. "I couldn't get in. Home, I mean. Again. So, when I saw the police outside your house, I thought I'd better come to find you. They're talking to your neighbours too."

"Police?" John muttered as his outburst of anger subsided, it was as if the word sparked the distant echo of a memory, transporting him back into a past scene. A memory he'd done everything to forget. He shook his head looking like a man slowly waking from a deep slumber.

Elsie had had enough, "John. What the fuck is going here?!" She demanded sharply.

Elsie's words whipped at John's consciousness. He seemed to come back into his body. At length, he turned his head towards her, the glassy, vacant look finally lifting from his eyes to be replaced by a haunted panic. "My daughter is missing. That's why Mary was trying to reach me... she didn't come home from school." John swallowed. "She must've informed the local police here, too. God knows why." He added darkly.

"On my God! No wonder you're all over the place." Elsie moved closer to comfort him. Deep, genuine concern on her face as she opened her arms to embrace him.

With the adults distracted by John's revelation, Millie sensed her chance to escape. The grown-ups were huddled in the middle of the path. The only direction open to her, except back down the trail, where she could be followed, was up the steep valley side behind the cabin. She darted into the shadows as quietly and swiftly as possible, away up the slope before anyone could stop her.

Millie clambered up and over a pile of boulders the height of a first-story window. Elsie turned, taking steps to go after her, but it was too late. "Millie!" She yelled in resignation, knowing she had no chance of catching her. The last she saw was the pale reflection of her white hoody disappearing up over the rocks, away into the night.

"Don't worry about her." John tried to reassure Elsie. "I see her up here all the time. Mostly by herself. She knows these hills even better than I do. You'd never catch her anyway.

This was all almost too much to bear for Elsie as she froze. Feeling her strength failing, John put his arms around her, holding her shaking frame tight.

Jenny hadn't moved a muscle since coming outside, but as Elsie collapsed into John's protective embrace, Jenny sprang into action. She darted off in the direction of the shadowy rocks Millie had escaped over.

The sudden movement grabbed Elsie's attention. She wriggled free of John, screamed "Jenny!" and turned, breaking into a sprint after her friend. She took a second step, tripped, and fell, rolling her ankle.

"Elsie!" John proclaimed, reaching out to her as she fell. "Are you ok?" He asked as he reached her side.

She rolled over. "Arghh!" She called out with a sharp intake of breath. An acute stab of pain in her ankle registered a grimace. John, kneeling beside her, looked concerned as he viewed her foot, offering a steadying arm.

"I'll be ok. Just need to rest it for a bit." Elsie said. "What the hell, John. Why did Jenny race off after the girl like that? No idea where she is! She's certain to get lost! Out of her mind, she must be!"

"Come on. Let's get you back inside." John said as he rose with his arm around her shoulders. Elsie shifted her weight onto one foot as John lifted her up, supporting her limping steps back into the bothy.

John laid her down gently on the old two-seater sofa next to the fire, helping her prop her foot on the armrest as she reclined, feeling terribly confused. "What's going on, John?" She moaned.

"I've no idea." He replied hopelessly.

At this point, Elsie's nervous system rebelled in traumatized shock. She could take no more. Surrendering—she turned her head sharply, vomiting on the floor beside herself. The room spun around her. As her vision faded into a blurred haze, she saw John sitting on a dining chair, looking down at her. A vaguely distant, indecipherable aspect had taken hold of him. His eyes seemed to bulge in the firelight, she noticed. Then finally, she passed out cold.

Elsie came around shivering. At first, she didn't know where she was, then it all came rushing back, like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. Still dizzy, she wondered if she was going to puke again. John was nowhere to be seen. By the looks of the fire, she'd been unconscious for at least a couple of hours, possibly longer. As she came to, steadying herself, she could hear what sounded like a rhythmic drum beat, gradually becoming louder. It was coming from outside. At a distance further up the trail, from the direction of the lake, John had pointed out. Elsie stood up gingerly. She winced. Her ankle still hurt, but nowhere near as bad as before. A shepherd's crook rested against the wall in the corner of the room. She hobbled over to collect it. Using it as a walking stick, bracing her injured left side, she made it outside the bothy.

The drum beat grew louder still. Elsie slowly, carefully began limping up the trail toward the deep rhythmic drumming. It was only a few minutes before the path levelled out. As she rounded the bend, Elsie could see the mountain gap, just as John had described. Almost eye level with the lake, she could see the natural bowl-shaped, amphitheatre-like formation of the peaks encircling the lake. The drums were deafening now, far too close for comfort, sounding as if they were coming from above. She reached the stony beach at the open end of the ring of mountains, which fell in a precipitously sheer drop down to the dark waters lapping at her feet. At its zenith, the full moon reflected a bright, cold silver light off the lake's surface. Elsie's gaze shot up instantly. What she was met with threw her entire being into abject terror. She was gripped by the desperate urge to run away as fast as her legs could carry her, but she couldn't move an inch. The sight she was met with was enough to drive anyone mad. She stood, stuck to the spot, gaping in open-mouthed horror. She wanted to scream, but no sound would come out.

Across the water, Elsie saw the source of the drumming. A group of black-robed men, hooded and masked, gathered together closely on a wide ledge halfway up the tallest peak in the enclosed ring, perhaps five stories above the lake. The light from their torches flickering, shadows dancing on the cliff walls behind them. Standing in a semi-circle, they were turned towards a central focal point. On the edge of the cliff, facing outward, feet bound, arms tied behind her back, stood a girl dressed all in white. "Millie?" Was the only clear thought in Elsie's mind. But she was too far away to tell for sure. The final vestige of sanity melted from Elsie's mind. The sheer psychotic horror of it all. She could not believe her eyes. Yet she remained, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to look away. Eyes locked on the ghoulish scene unfolding before her. As if a macabre production staged for her eyes alone.

One of the hooded gang members stepped forward. The drumming ceased abruptly. Now in the middle of the mob, the seeming leader closed on the girl and began chanting. Harsh, glutaral tones and disturbing arcane inflections filled the air, echoing around the cliffs. The language, ancient-sounding and terrible, was indecipherable. At times it didn't sound human, and neither did the one chanting the foul invocation. When Elsie thought the absolute limit of sanity had been breached, a curious bubbling sound drew her eyes to the waters' surface. Seemingly in response to the vile, chaotic discord of the black chanting echoing down from above, the lake began to bubble rapidly, then boil. Elsie could see a darkly illuminated mass beneath the surface, rising rapidly. The form glowed a sickly, oily green and pink colour. Nauseated beyond anything bearable, Elsie fell to her knees. Doomed to watch the horror play out to its dreadful end.

The bubbling, broiling black water came alive with writhing tentacle-like shapes, whipping and splashing frantically in all directions. A great hissing sound issued forth from the centre of the unnameable eldritch horror floating just below the surface. Its innumerable arms created a tumult of waves. Billowing clouds of steam rose. A horrendous stench of sickly rotting flesh and death permeated all around. Elsie felt like she might faint. The noise of the thrashing water was stupendous, building to a crescendo.

Out of nowhere, the most terrific high-pitched scream sliced through the night air. The chanting ritual leader, hitherto transfixed on the intended sacrifice bound before him, suddenly stopped chanting and turned to the source of the ear-piercing screech.

"Annnaaabeeell!!!" It sounded again. Elsie couldn't believe it.

"Jenny? It-it can't be?" From Else's position, Jenny appeared to come into view from inside the cliff. "How did she get up there?" Elsie marvelled in terror. Jenny rushed towards the young girl, desperation driving her.

"Annnaaabeeell!!!" Jenny screamed again. In a flash, it was over. Two hooded figures stepped out, reaching for Jenny as she passed. In a single flowing movement, one of them grabbed her, spun on his heel, and slung her towards the drop beyond as if she weighed nothing. Jenny flew. Sailing straight over the cliff's edge, she let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell. Arms and legs flailing wildly. Her screams cut off abruptly as she landed with a sickening splash. Her panicking body was met by increased turmoil on the water's surface. Writhing, bubbling, and boiling. The black lake burst into renewed, stomach-churning vigour. The awful din and eye-watering, nauseating reek intensified. The hiss from the vast ancient tentacled monster below the water shot up to a higher pitch. The leader of the hooded clifftop worshippers stepped forward once more. Not wanting this moment to go to waste, he rounded on the girl quickly, and with a shove, she plummeted over the precipice. Dropping like a stone in slow motion. Finally, Elsie let out a scream of her own. Her bone-chilling broken-hearted wail bounced off the slick wet stone cliffs. Elsie felt an almighty thud. A sharp pain shot through her skull as blood filled her eyes. She fell forward. Her vision faded to black.

PC Evans hadn't seen anything like this in his short career before. He hoped never to again. "What the hell happened here?" He pondered with frustration. After walking around the bothy and the lake several times since arriving just after sunrise, he decided he had time to call in before the forensic team got there. He made his way up the side of the valley behind the bothy, getting his phone out.

"It's Evans, Sarge," The young Constable said as he looked down the valley at the rolling morning landscape. The sky was a light powder blue, fluffy white cumulus clouds sailing overhead, carried along by the consistent breeze. The scudding clouds dappled the sunlight across the fields stretching away below. He wondered what sort of mood the Sergeant was in today and was about to find out.

"What we looking at up there, Evans?" Sergeant Holyfield asked in his usual gruff, direct manner.

"Belongings, including clothing, of four individuals, Sarge," Evans began in a business-like tone. "Two adult females, identities unknown. Possibly hikers, no IDs among their effects. One adult male. And one teenage girl. The male is confirmed as a local man, John Peters; we obtained a warrant for his arrest yesterday. Wanted in connection with the double homicide of his Wife and Daughter." Evans shivered in the chill breeze; he recalled the grim discovery two days before vividly. He was first on the scene. A dog walker had called it in. In a hastily-dug, shallow grave Mary and Chloe Peters were found. Mother and Daughter wrapped separately in blood-stained bedsheets and then piled one on top of the other, resting beneath less than a foot of soil. Both with their heads smashed in. Their lifeless remains had been rotting there for at least two months. Until a curious dog unearthed them. The severity of their injuries, along with the lack of blood at the scene, led investigators to conclude they'd been bludgeoned to death at another location and later moved. "No bodies or signs of violence at the scene,’’ PC Evans retreated from the memory and got back to the moment at hand, ‘’Just the belongings of the three adults in the bothy. And the clothes they, and the unidentified teenager, may have been wearing last night, piled together on the lake shore, along with a shepherd's walking crook. By the looks of it, they've vanished without a trace. Naked. We're gonna need divers, Sarge. God alone knows what happened here."