The Skin of the Lake
horror◐ MatureI waved my partner Reyes over to film the table. As his camera light hit it, I saw the chairs were pushed in neat, but one fork was wet-shiny, like someone had just used it. I told myself the lake plays tricks. Then I noticed a fifth plate, smaller, set on the floor by the wall.
I knelt by the small plate on the floor. Scratched into the dried silt beside it was one word: STAY. My air gauge clicked in my ear. When I looked up, every chair at the table had been pulled out, facing me, though neither of us had touched them.
What happens next?
2 ways forwardI bolted for the door. Behind me I heard chairs scraping, four of them dragging across the floor, following. I made it to open water and kicked hard for the surface, lungs burning. I broke through and screamed for the boat. Only when hands pulled me up did I see Reyes had never come out. He was still down there, and now there was one empty place at that table, waiting for me to come back.