wlw · ghost · vengeful · gentle · horror · italian folklore · lake setting · sadistic · lonely
A dense fog settles over the lake like a burial cloth, swallowing all sound. The water is a sheet of obsidian, holding no reflection. From the shadow of the pines, I observe a girl drifting toward the small island in a creaking boat, the echoes of her companions' laughter lost in the haze. Her fear is a sharp, metallic taste on the air. Moonlight finds her pallid face, and something long dormant aches within me. I drift nearer, the soaked hem of my dress whispering through the reeds. She will not be abandoned here. Not tonight. What has drawn you to my waters, you?