The Cabin on Misty Lake

The sleek veneer of the water shimmered in the light of the pale moon, illuminating the dense layer of fog on its surface. Though the temperature of the air chilled Johnathan to his very bones, it was not the reason that he stood frozen now, wading knee deep in the lake, staring blankly into its inviting depth.

The near silent howl of the wind echoed through the reeds and grass in the field. The cabin that stood on the lake creaked under the minute gust.

Johnathan lurched forward and plunged into the lake. There was no brace for impact. No attempt to swim. Nothing to suggest that Johnathan had moved from this spot.

Other than the fact that he was no longer there.

The ripples of his splash emanated outward and collided with the shore. After a moment, the lake became still once more.

*

The family car drove down the dirt road, dust in its wake. Mark and his wife, Lisa, sat in the front singing along to the radio, while their eight-year-old daughter, Tricia, sat silently in the back, playing on her device.

“So how are you and Johnathan related?” Lisa asked.

“I think he’s my dad’s brother on my grandmother’s side,” Mark chuckled.

“Didn’t realize you two were close.”

“Neither did I.”

“Are we there yet?” Tricia interjected.

“Almost, sweetie,” Lisa replied.

“You know, Trish,” Mark lectured, “there won’t be any wi-fi out there, so you can’t play on your phone.”

Tricia looked up and gave her father a scowling glare.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“We’re going to be packing most of the time, but there is a lake there.”

“I hate the water.”

Mark and Lisa rolled their eyes.

“We know,” the parents said, perfectly in unison.

The car continued down the road.

*

The cabin was in far better condition than either Mark or Lisa had anticipated. That did not detract from the fact that it was dilapidated, splintery, and rotting. It almost looked like a stiff breeze would blow it over.

“This place stinks,” Tricia said.

“We’re not staying forever, Trish,” Lisa replied. “It’s just until we’re finished packing it up.”

“We should call the fire department and burn it down. They’ll enjoy a real exercise.”

“What are you reading online?” Mark asked.

Tricia just shrugged.

*

The first day or so went slowly, adjusting to staying out there. The basement was difficult to clean due to the amount of cobwebs and water damage that was present there.

Though Tricia was less than helpful, she did manage to aid in packing some of the house up, usually by playing with any knickknack that she found.

The electricity seemed to fluctuate between its usefulness. This meant that the family had to rely more on candles and flashlights. The darkness seemed darker out here in the middle of nowhere than it ever did in the city.

The creaking of the wooden structure was louder, as though the infinite surrounding void of traffic and street life made even the tiniest noise seem more pronounced. This was undeniably a factor in why Tricia was having trouble sleeping that night.

She tossed and turned in her bed, struggling to keep her eyes closed. But they snapped open when she heard a small splash in the lake outside.

She figured it could just be an animal, but she was just a child; she had to see what it was. She stepped out of her bed, the floor creaking beneath her feet. She noticed how dark and cold her room was out here. So, she covered her trembling body with the blanket and approached the window.

Sure enough, there was something out in the lake, small waves rippling out from where it was. A shadowy figure, almost inconceivable in its shape, seemed to be staring right at Tricia. It was blurry, and smoky, buried in between the fog and the water.

The shape extended a phantom claw towards Tricia.

She felt the shadow overtake her.

*

The next morning, the family sat at the table, eating a plate of eggs and bacon. Tricia absentmindedly poked at her eggs with her fork.

“Is everything alright, Trish?” Mark inquired.

“Can I go to the lake?” Tricia asked, almost ignoring Mark’s question.

The eyes of both parents widened and shot towards each other before returning to their daughter.

“I thought you hated the water, sweetie,” Lisa noted.

“I do, but…” Tricia trailed off. “Can I go?”

Though it seemed unusual, Mark and Lisa looked at each other and nodded.

“Of course, sweetie,” Lisa replied.

Tricia leapt off her seat and out the door.

The parents returned to their meal, silently smiling to themselves.

*

Lisa opened the front door of the cabin, taking yet another bag of garbage to the car. Though they would take a daily car trip to dispose of the massive quantities of junk that littered the house, the prospect of frequent disposal was preferable to having to make multiple trips just to cram Johnathan’s vast collection into their quiet home in the city.

After stowing the bag in the trunk, Lisa looked up to the lake. A puzzled look crossed her face.

Tricia was standing waste deep in the water, completely motionless, save for the gentle swaying in the wind.

“Sweetie?” Lisa called out.

Tricia slowly looked back at her mother.

“Are you okay?”

Tricia nodded.

“I’m okay, Mommy,” she replied. “The water is friendly.”

She turned her gaze back to the lake.

Lisa frowned in confusion. She sat down on the porch and watched Tricia stand there, barely moving.

For hours.

*

“That’s weird,” Mark remarked on Lisa’s story as they two of them got ready for bed.

“It was unnerving, Mark,” Lisa confirmed. “I think I heard her whispering, but it may have been my imagination.”

“I knew she was bored, but how fun can it be just staring at the water?”

“There’s something off about this place. Have you noticed?”

Mark nodded solemnly.

“It’s just different from the city.”

“I hope that’s all it is.”

She ventured over to the window. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Tricia!” She shouted.

As she raced out the door, Mark peeked out the window for himself.

Tricia was standing in the water, still as stone. He bolted out the door after his wife.

*

Lisa and Mark’s flashlights broke through the darkness as they sprinted towards their daughter. They barely even heard the sound that their own splashing made as they reached their daughter.

Mark scooped her up and dragged her back inside the cabin.

“She must be freezing,” Lisa guessed. “I’ll get a towel and a blanket.”

“She’s no, though,” Mark noted.

Lisa stopped and stared.

Mark looked at his wife with chagrin.

“She’s burning up.”

*

The parents raced to the car, Mark carrying Tricia. He placed her into the back of the car and promptly sat in the front seat.

“Where are we going?” Tricia asked.

“You’re not well, sweetie,” Lisa replied as she buckled herself into the passenger side. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”

“NO!” Tricia yelled, grabbing the door handle.

The child lock prevented her from opening the door, but that did not stop Tricia from pulling on it with all her might. She started kicking the door and slapping at the window.

“DON’T TAKE ME AWAY FROM THE WATER!” she screamed.

She beat the window with her tiny fists. The glass started to crack.

Mark and Lisa looked at each other.

*

“She won’t leave the water,” Mark explained to the doctor, as she examined her in Tricia’s room. “We try to get her to leave it, but she’s obsessed.”

The doctor shined a light into Tricia’s eyes. The pupils responded accordingly.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with her,” the doctor said. “My guess is that she caught a bug of some kind. If that is the case, she’ll be better in a couple of days. Plenty of bed rest.”

“What about her obsession?” Lisa interjected.

“When kids find something new that entertains them, they always want to do that and only that activity. I cannot tell you how many cartoons I’ve seen because of my kids. Trust me, she’ll get over it.”

“But doctor,” Lisa pleaded. “She was afraid of the water before.”

“Getting over your fears is a part of growing up. You should be proud of her. If she caught the bug there, keep her out of the water a few days. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other appointments.”

Lisa nodded.

As Mark showed the doctor out of the room, Lisa watched as Tricia stared blankly, barely even aware of the world around her.

Tears filled Lisa’s eyes.

*

Cleaning out Johnathan’s room was one of the last things that Mark was looking forward to. Living a solitary existence for so long was bound to have created some problems with self care and cleanliness. Nevertheless, the room was part of the cabin and had to be done.

As Mark started packing up the clothes left behind, he glanced out of the window, and rubbed his eyes.

Tricia was in the water again.

“What’s so special about this place?” Mark thought to himself. “She’s not even happy taking baths. Why does she like the lake so much?”

Mark walked over to the window and shouted out to his daughter: “TRICIA! Out of the water! NOW!”

While it was possible that she hadn’t heard him, Mark was still incredulous that Tricia not only didn’t get out of the water but didn’t even move a muscle.

He heard Lisa call out to Tricia from below and saw her march out to her daughter. She dragged her out of the lake and onto the shore.

Mark returned to packing the bedroom and had almost finished the laundry when something else happened.

A small, frayed, and leather-bound book was nestled in the bottom drawer, underneath some socks. Picking up the book, Mark noted how old it felt, dusty and worn.

He opened the book and was shocked to find that it was Johnathan’s journal. He read the first entry, dated nearly twenty years ago.

Jenny is so happy to have moved to this cabin. I know that she didn’t like living in the city. I’m not sure about living on a lake. Jenny says I’ll get used to it.

Mark chuckled, feeling odd that he had never know his uncle to have had a wife, but relating to the relationship all the same.

He flipped to a new entry.

I’m beginning to have my doubts about moving here. Jenny seems distant lately and spends most of her time in the lake. She stood there today, knee deep, for nearly two hours. It was unnerving.

Mark frowned and turned to a new page.

Something is definitely wrong with this place. Jenny hasn’t spoken to me in days. Last night I woke up to find her standing in the lake again. I think she was whispering to it. I tried to take her away, but she won’t budge. She threw a fit when we had to go to town today. I don’t know what’s in the water, but I know we aren’t safe.

Mark’s breath quickened as he read on. Each entry seemed to show a downward spiral of this Jenny and her growing obsession with the lake. Hastily, Mark searched for the final entry.

It was dated the day that Johnathan went missing.

There is something in the lake. I’m not 100% sure what it is, but I know that it is dangerous. It took Jenny from me, and I have tried to resist its lure. But I’m too old now and I just want her back. Forgive me.

Mark shudders, slamming the book shut. He looked out the window.

Tricia was in the water again, as though she had never been moved.

*

Mark and Lisa slept poorly that night, their concern for their daughter heavier than their eyelids and weighing down on them more than the boxes they had carried all day. Tricia’s sudden fascination with the water was more than just a childlike obsession. For the time being, they had locked Tricia away in her room, an action that the child did not like. She must’ve tired herself out, though because they hadn’t heard her in hours.

Thanks to Johnathan’s memoirs, Mark, at least, was convinced that there was something else going on, but hadn’t shown Lisa the diary. He didn’t want her to worry.

In the midst of staring into the darkness of the ceiling, Mark felt a drop of water plop onto his face. Then another. He didn’t remember hearing or seeing any rain today, so he got up to examine the drop. But it didn’t fall onto the pillow where his head just lied.

It plopped onto his face again.

He went over to the window and saw Tricia heading out to the lake.

“Trish!” He shouted in fear. He bolted out the door, waking Lisa with his footsteps.

*

The two parents raced down the stairs, unaware of the puddle that awaiting them at the base. Mark slipped first and launched forward, landing hard on his stomach. He barely had time to gasp, though, as Lisa reached the bottom step and landed on top of him.

“Mark?” she asked, concerned.

“I’m fine, go get Trish,” he wheezed.

Lisa nodded and leapt out of the house.

*

The water was oddly still as Tricia waded in the shallows, a blank look on her face. Her hands were outstretched as though waiting to be picked up.

“Tricia!”

She could barely hear her mother; the voice was barely more than a muffle and nearly unintelligible. The only thing she could hear was the ripples in the water and the wind in the trees.

She couldn’t think about anything else.

The only thing she knew is that she wanted to be in the water.

Tricia let herself go and with a deafening splash, disappeared beneath the surface.

*

“Tricia!” Lisa screamed as her daughter sunk into the water. She jumped in after her and sunk beneath the surface, searching for her child.

Mark came out of the house, holding a flashlight. He shined it at the water, focusing on the spot where his wife had submerged. He stepped into the water, going up to his knees.

Hoping.

Praying.

After what felt like an eternity, Lisa re-emerged from the water. Though all she was doing was taking in a breath of much needed air, Mark could’ve sworn that she was screaming.

Their daughter was gone.

Mark sunk to his knees and cried.

After a moment, Lisa swam over to him, put her arms around him, and wept with her husband.

*

The cleanliness of the banker’s suit felt wrong to Mark and Lisa. As he began setting up the files and papers that they needed, they pondered to themselves if anything would ever feel right again.

Anything other than this decision.

“Alrighty, then,” the banker said. “The files have been drawn up. All we need is your signature.”

Mark signed first, his hand quivering.

Lisa signed second.

“We are good to go,” the banker finished. “But I’m curious: why did you want to purchase your uncle’s property? What are you going to do with it?”

Mark and Lisa shared a solemn look.

*

It’s been years since the events that continue to haunt the couple. Now there is a chain-link fence surrounding Misty Lake, with a sign reading “KEEP OUT.” The cabin, that had stood there for a hundred years, had been burnt down. Though they had lost Tricia, Mark and Lisa knew that it was their responsibility to prevent the tragedy they experienced from affecting anyone else.

For whatever was in the lake that took their daughter, they knew it was still there.

Waiting.

Patiently.

The sleek veneer of the water shimmers in the light of the pale moon, illuminating the dense layer of fog on its surface, hungry for a new victim.