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The Skin of the Lake

horror◐ Mature
5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep

At the top of the stairs I found four bedroom doors, all shut. Three had handprints pressed on them from the inside, small and large. The fourth door had nothing. I reached for the clean one, because clean meant safe. Or so I thought.

I chose the bare door instead. It opened onto a flooded nursery, toys floating in slow circles. On the far wall, names were scratched deep into the plaster, a list of everyone who had ever dived Hesper. The newest name, fresh and rust-red, was mine. I hadn't written it. Then the door behind me clicked locked, and the toys all turned to face me at once.

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