Killer Slugs from the Haunted Lake

Killer Slugs from the Haunted Lake

No ripple warned of what would rise

the lake lay still beneath the skies

but something moved beneath that gloss

a silken hiss, a weight, a loss

The village knew, but spoke in code

don’t swim at dusk, don’t take that road

the waters seemed too dark, too wide

some swore they saw things crawl inside

They came with trails of rotted green

too fast for slugs, too slick, too keen

they bore no shell, no eyes, no face

just silent mouths and feeding grace

A man went missing near the reeds

they found his boots, his watch, some beads

but not his hands, not what he’d screamed

just smears where something dark had gleamed

At night they slide from weed and slime

to hunt in packs, in perfect time

no fire scares them, no fence holds

they flatten steel and gut the bold

The townsfolk pray, or drink, or flee

they leave the lake to misery

and still it waits, that breathing glass

where slugs like demons slowly pass

And if you go, you go alone

your blood, your name, your flesh, your bone

they’ll leave your voice to hum and quake

beneath the mud of that cursed lake