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The Skin of the Lake
horror◐ Mature5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
I grabbed the shiny fork to bag it as evidence. The second my glove closed on it, the water went ice-cold and the lake floor trembled. Reyes' light cut out. In the dark I felt a small hand, cold and certain, slip into my free hand and squeeze.
I yanked my hand free and dropped the fork. The cold vanished. Reyes' light flickered back on. We didn't speak, just swam for the surface as fast as our tanks allowed. Back on the boat, I peeled off my glove. Pressed into my palm was a small, perfect handprint, burned cold into the skin, that no doctor has ever been able to explain.
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