The rain had a way of settling over Elmswater, turning everything gray. It was relentless, a steady rhythm that clung to the small town and the large lake that bordered its outskirts. Lena Evans, now a stranger in this quiet place, found some comfort in the downpour. It was easier to exist under its weight, easier to hide. No one bothered her, and she preferred it that way.
Her boots squelched in the mud as she walked the familiar path that wound around the lake. She had been coming here for weeks now, escaping the gaze of her classmates at Elmswater High. The move from the city was supposed to be a fresh start, but that promise felt as empty as the long stretches of road that led them here. Beauty, she had learned, was a curse. The city kids bullied her because of it. She didn't expect much better from the town's inhabitants, so she kept to herself, using the lake as her refuge.
A gust of wind sent her hood whipping back, and she pulled it tight over her long, damp hair. The path was slick with rain, and the lake stretched out beside her, its surface rippling like a mirror disturbed by an unseen hand. Lena had always found the lake strange. Too quiet, too still. On sunny days, its depths were impenetrable, an endless black, but on rainy days like this, it seemed to come alive. She hadn't figured out which unsettled her more.
As she rounded the bend, she spotted something—or rather, someone—in the distance, hunched near the water's edge. Lena's steps slowed. There weren't many people who came out to the lake during a storm. The figure was small, crouched low, and unmoving. Long dark hair hung in wet strands around their face. Lena narrowed her eyes, curiosity overriding her caution.
Then she saw it. Blood.
It streaked the rocks near the figure's feet, running in rivulets, mixing with the rain before disappearing into the lake. Lena froze, her breath catching in her throat. The figure shifted, revealing more of the scene—an animal, sprawled and lifeless. A deer, its throat torn open, fresh and raw.
The figure moved again, and Lena's world lurched.
A girl—no, not just a girl. Something else. Her hands, slick with blood, tore into the deer's flesh with a horrifying ease, lifting a strip of meat to her mouth. Lena couldn't look away. She wanted to, needed to, but her feet were rooted in place, her eyes wide as the girl—this thing—devoured the deer with an unsettling, primal hunger.
The girl paused mid-bite, as if sensing she was being watched. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes locking onto Lena's. They weren't human eyes, not entirely. They were too bright, too sharp, gleaming like the surface of the lake under a full moon.
Lena's heart pounded in her chest, fear crawling up her spine. Run. Her mind screamed it, but her body wouldn't move. The girl stood, fluid and graceful, wiping the blood from her lips with the back of her hand. She took a step toward Lena, and something about the way she moved—too fast, too smooth—sent Lena stumbling back.
The girl's lips parted, a smile forming. It wasn't a warm smile, nor a welcoming one. It was something colder, sharper, like a predator sizing up its prey. Lena's pulse raced, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Finally, her legs responded, and she turned, bolting back down the path. She didn't care about the mud or the rain anymore. She just needed to get away.
Behind her, she thought she heard laughter—a soft, almost musical sound carried by the wind—but she didn't dare look back.
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The rain poured harder as Lena burst through the back door of her house, slamming it shut behind her. Her chest heaved, lungs burning from the sprint. She collapsed against the door, her drenched clothes clinging to her skin, hair matted to her face. She stayed like that for a moment, trying to steady her breathing, trying to make sense of what she had just seen.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.
She had heard the local legends—the stories kids whispered at school about strange creatures in the lake, the old wives' tales about mermaids dragging men to watery graves. But no one ever really believed those things, not seriously.
Lena swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the rain. Her mind raced, replaying the scene over and over—the blood, the girl, those eyes. She had to be imagining it. There had to be some explanation.
But deep down, she knew what she had seen was real. Too real.
Shivering, she pushed herself away from the door and headed to the bathroom. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—pale, wild-eyed, drenched. She barely recognized her own reflection.
After a hot shower and fresh clothes, Lena sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the rain still streaming down her window. She should tell someone. But who would believe her? And what would she even say? That she had seen a girl eating a deer raw by the lake? That she had looked into the eyes of something inhuman?
No. It was better to keep it to herself. At least until she could figure out what was happening.
But one thing was certain: the girl at the lake wasn't just any girl. And Lena had no idea what that meant for her—or for anyone else.
She lay back, pulling the covers over her, but sleep didn't come easily. Her mind was filled with images of blood and water, of sharp teeth and gleaming eyes. And somewhere deep inside, a part of her knew that her life in Elmswater had just become much more complicated.
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The rain didn't stop that night. It never really did in Elmswater. But as Lena drifted in and out of restless dreams, one thought echoed in her mind, unsettling and persistent.
Who was that girl? And what was she hiding beneath the surface?