The mist around the lake thickened, swirling ominously in the pale moonlight as Mia wandered farther down the path. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching the darkened edges of the lake for any sign of Josh. The eerie quiet only amplified her growing dread, and every small sound—the rustle of leaves, the creak of a tree branch—set her nerves on edge.
"Josh, come on, where are you?" she called out again, her voice quivering slightly. There was no answer, just the gentle lapping of water against the shore.
She took a few more cautious steps forward when something caught her eye—a dark shape floating in the water, just barely visible through the fog. Her breath hitched, and she moved closer to get a better look.
As she approached, the shape became clearer. It was a body.
Mia's stomach dropped when she recognized the ragged shirt. It was Josh. His lifeless form bobbed up and down in the water, his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the sky above. She let out a gasp, stumbling back.
"No… oh my God…" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Before she could process what was happening, a sudden rush of movement came from the trees. A dark figure lunged out of the shadows, brandishing a bloodstained hammer.
Mia barely had time to scream before the killer swung the hammer at her head. She managed to duck, but the weapon glanced off her shoulder with a sickening crunch, sending a jolt of pain through her body. She stumbled back, her hand instinctively reaching up to her shoulder as blood trickled down her arm.
She turned to run, but the killer was faster. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her backward and slamming her onto the ground. Mia let out a sharp cry of pain as the breath was knocked out of her, her vision blurring for a moment.
The killer stood over her, a menacing silhouette against the pale moonlight. He raised the hammer high above his head.
"No! Please, don't—" Mia's plea was cut off by the brutal swing of the hammer as it came down, crashing into her face with a wet thud. Her skull caved in from the force, blood and bone splattering across the ground. The hammer came down again, and again, the blows relentless, each one more savage than the last. Her body twitched violently with every strike until there was nothing left but a mangled, bloody mess.
The killer paused, panting heavily as he stared down at Mia's ruined form. The only sound now was the rhythmic drip of blood soaking into the earth.
Not far away, Natalie's breath came out in ragged gasps as she stumbled through the underbrush, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She had heard the faint screams and then… nothing. An unsettling silence had fallen over the lake once more.
She gripped her cross tighter, whispering frantic prayers under her breath. "Lord, protect me… please… please…"
Suddenly, a twig snapped nearby, and Natalie spun around, her eyes wide with terror. The dark figure emerged from the fog, moving slowly, deliberately, the hammer gripped tightly in one hand.
Natalie took a step back, her pulse racing. She bolted, sprinting through the woods, her feet slipping on the damp leaves as she tore through the darkness. She could hear the killer's footsteps pounding behind her, drawing closer with every second.
She didn't dare look back.
Branches whipped at her face and arms, leaving small cuts as she pushed forward, her lungs burning from the effort. She spotted a small, abandoned boathouse up ahead, partially hidden by the dense foliage. Without a second thought, she darted inside, slamming the rickety wooden door shut behind her.
Natalie crouched down, pressing herself into the far corner. She tried to control her breathing, her hand covering her mouth to stifle the sound. She listened, every muscle in her body tensed as she waited.
The faint creak of the door opening sent a chill down her spine. The killer had followed her inside.
She held her breath, peeking through a small crack in the wood. The shadowy figure moved slowly, searching the boathouse, the hammer swinging loosely in his hand. His movements were unnervingly calm, as if he had all the time in the world.
Natalie's eyes flicked around the small room, desperately searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand brushed against a rusty fishing hook lying on the floor. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.
Clutching the hook tightly, she waited until the killer was closer. Then, in a burst of frantic energy, she lunged forward, swinging the hook at his face.
The metal tip grazed the killer's cheek, leaving a shallow cut. He recoiled, and Natalie took the chance to shove him back, darting toward the door. But the killer recovered quickly, grabbing her by the arm and swinging her into the wall. Her head slammed against the wood, and pain shot through her skull.
Natalie dropped to the floor, dazed, but still conscious. She crawled toward the open door, every movement a struggle. Just as she reached the threshold, the hammer crashed down on her leg, shattering the bone. A scream tore from her throat as agony exploded in her limb.
"Help me!" she cried out, dragging herself forward despite the searing pain.
The killer loomed over her, raising the hammer again. But before he could bring it down, a faint sound caught his attention—voices in the distance. The motel staff were finding Natalie.
He hesitated, then turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Natalie lying there, injured and trembling.
She struggled to her feet, wincing as she put weight on her broken leg. Gritting her teeth, she limped out of the boathouse, tears streaming down her face. She had to find help. She had to survive.