That Night On The Lake -

Suddenly, the boat lurched. Elias gripped the gunwales as the silver surface broke. But no creature emerged. Instead, the water itself seemed to fold like glass. A tower of liquid, perfectly square and standing ten feet tall, rose silently from the depths. Inside the pillar of water, suspended like a fly in amber, was a pocket watch—ticking perfectly, its gold casing untouched by the lake.

Below him, deep in the dark water, a light was growing. It wasn't the blurry glow of a lantern or a fish; it was sharp, geometric, and impossibly bright. As it rose, the water began to hum. The ripples didn't move outward; they moved inward, toward the center of the lake, as if the water were being pulled down a drain that didn't exist. That Night on the Lake

The silence didn't stay quiet for long. A rhythmic thrum began to vibrate through the floorboards of the boat. It wasn't a sound, really—more like a heartbeat felt in the soles of his feet. Elias looked over the edge. Suddenly, the boat lurched

The moonlight didn’t just reflect off Blackwood Lake; it seemed to sink into it, turning the water into a sheet of cold, hammered silver. Instead, the water itself seemed to fold like glass