“It’s like a big fish or something.”
Sophia scanned the water but couldn’t see any fish, big or otherwise. “Oh yeah, that’s great,” she said.
“Do you know what it is?”
Probably a log. Or a shopping cart. “You’re the wildlife expert, hun.”
“But it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen! It’s almost… human-like.” Maisey took the binoculars back and peered out of the hole again. “Oh, it’s gone now.”
She’s seeing mermaids. Sophia rubbed Maisey’s back distractedly, and picked up one of her sketches from the bench. Charcoal scribbles of trees and lakeside. “We should head back now that it’s stopped raining. Before it starts again.”
Maisey turned and tugged at Sophia’s wet jacket. “You’re soaked.”
“Yep. Wanna get me back to the room and out of these wet clothes?”
“All right,” Maisey said. “I’m going to Google that creature, though. Maybe it was a seal or something!”
“A seal?” Sophia helped gather up the sketches, keen to get back to the hotel as soon as possible. “Right, yeah. A grey seal.”
~
There was a knocking coming from the room next door. It woke Sophia up and she lay for a moment, her eyes unadjusted to the darkness, wondering if it was a spook or just old pipes.
She blinked. Pale light filtered through the thin curtains, helping her see shapes in the gloom. She rolled over to check if Maisey was sleeping through the noise, but the bed was empty.
In the bathroom.
“Hun?” Sophia covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned. No sounds from the bathroom. “Maisey?”
Frowning, she reached over to the bedside table and switched on the lamp, momentarily dazzling herself. A note caught her eye on the pillow, and she snatched it up.
In case you wake to pee, I’ve gone to the lake to see what I can see. (A poem! Love you xx)
“Lunatic,” Sophia muttered. She lay back, staring at the ceiling, but the more she thought about her girlfriend out there in the dark, alone, with wild animals and ghosts and trees which looked like they’d fall down at any moment, the more she convinced herself Maisey was gonna die. If she hadn’t already.
With a curse, she threw off the duvet and pulled on some clothes. She grabbed her jacket and shoes on the way out, quickly turned back to get the key she’d forgotten, and thumped down the stairs toward reception and the way out.
She’ll be fine. She’ll be fucking stargazing and I’ll end up freezing my tits off.
Except there were no damn stars out, of course, because the sky was filled with grey clouds covering the moon. Luckily, she’d thought to bring her phone, and she turned on its light before heading in among the trees.
Owls made weird noises. Or foxes or some shit. Creepy-ass wildlife making noises when it should’ve been sleeping. She was going to kill Maisey, if she wasn’t already dead, kill her for worrying her.
Trees creaked. Mud squelched beneath her feet.
I am not afraid. I’m angry. And anyway, if there are ghosts out here, that’s fine, because I’ve always wanted to see a ghost. And if there are animals out here, that’s fine too, because…
She couldn’t think of a reason. What if she got gored by a giant wild pig?
A fuzzy mound of murkiness caught her eye on the path ahead, and she shined the light on it, realising as she drew nearer that it was the ginger cat. Its fur was wet and staring, dulled by mud and death.
Clearly dead, poor thing, and when she leaned over it, shining the light in its face, she saw it had no eyeballs. Something had eaten its damn eyeballs.
She swallowed hard and hurried onwards. She wanted to call for Maisey, but dared not, in case something called back. The lake neared, anyway, and she picked up the pace.
Maisey stood by the waterside, her back to the forest. In front of her, slowly clambering from the lake, was a… a… thing. A grey, flaccid-skinned creature with large, eyeless sockets in the front of its skull. It had gills, and fish-lips, which it pulled back into a piranha grimace.
Sophia realized she had frozen, her breath held, when she let out a little gasp. She lunged forward, grabbed Maisey, and dragged her back as the thing approached. No, its sockets weren’t eyeless: there were eyes there, but too small – two tiny cat’s eyes sitting there like nipples.
Nipples! The thought almost made her laugh hysterically, but Maisey snapped out of whatever trance she was in and screamed.
“Come on!” She pulled Maisey away from the water.
The creature, on the bank now, dropped down onto its front feet (hands?) and arched its back as if it was about to hack up its guts. It made a wet, slurping noise, opened its mouth and vomited out the cat’s eyes. When it lifted its head to look at them, the sockets were gaping and empty.
Sophia ran, Maisey by her side. They pulled each other on, feet slipping, clothes snagging on undergrowth, until they were back in the hotel parking lot.
“My phone,” Sophia gasped, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I dropped it!”
It was light enough to see now, the sun pushing pathetic rays through the clouds, but she still wanted her damn phone.
“Leave it,” Maisey said. “It’s gone.”
Sophia didn’t like the way Maisey gazed toward the forest. She nodded, took her girlfriend’s hand, and headed back inside.
~
Sophia and Maisey ate their breakfast in silence. Maisey didn’t want to talk about the creature at all. Sophia figured she’d ask one of the hotel staff, the soonest chance she got. Someone had to have seen it before. Maybe it was harmless. It lived in the lake and fed off the eyeballs of stray cats.
“We can head home, if you want,” Sophia said, as she buttered her toast. “Hun?”
Maisey looked up, her face expressionless for a moment, until her smile gave her dimples. “Don’t be silly! We’ll just avoid the lake, that’s all. No need to go back there.”
Sophia nodded. “Right. Avoid the lake.”
They finished eating, and a waitress came and cleared their plates. Sophia mentioned she wanted to pick up some brochures to see what else there was to do in the surrounding area, and left Maisey to head back to the room alone.
She wandered into the lounge — a tiny little barroom with only a few tables and four stools at the bar — ignored the bartender grinning at her, and squeezed past a table to get to the stand full of leaflets.
Bakelite museum. Tractor World. Dullsville.
“Have you been down to the lake yet?” the bartender said. “Very pretty.”
“Yeah.” Sophia went to the bar and sat on one of the stools. She stared at the bartender, a handsome man, in his thirties perhaps, with a stupid name — if the name “Clay” on his badge was actually his real name. “Didn’t like it. Weird animals and dead cats.”
“Oh.” Clay gave her a puzzled smile. “I see. Well, they do say strange things happen at the lake. It’s full of plague victims.”
And they didn’t think to have it dredged? I hope people don’t swim in there.
Sophia tapped her fingers on the bar. “Me and my girlfriend saw an animal-thing. A creature. It wasn’t a plague victim, it was a monster.”
“Ah, you’re one of those.” Clay turned and picked up a clean glass, though Sophia hadn’t asked for a drink.
“One of what?” Say dyke, I dare you.
“Monster hunter. Cryptozoologist, if you like.” He grinned at her and proceeded to pull a pint. “Get a lot of them here.”
“Uh huh. Well, no, I’m not. You need to call animal control or something. I should speak to the manager.” She eyed the pint Clay placed on the bar. “I didn’t order a drink.”
“On the house,” Clay said.
Sophia almost pointed out that she wasn’t going to sleep with him, no matter how many free drinks he gave her. But, fuck it, free drink. She took the glass and left the bar.
~
“Hun, you fancy the Bakelite mu
seum?” Sophia called, pushing the bedroom door open. “Sounds fun, right?”
The room was empty. Sophia put the beer down on the bedside table and peered into the bathroom. The tap dribbled brown water into the sink. She knew instantly that Maisey had gone down to the lake.
She might not have. She might’ve gone out to the car, or….
She dashed out of the room, down the stairs, and checked the lounge, the bar, the dining room. Maisey wasn’t in reception either, so she headed out to the parking lot, raking a hand through her hair. The sky was blue, for a change, the clouds white and fluffy, but the forest still lurked in shadow.
Sophia marched into the trees, snatched up a hefty stick to use as a weapon, and beat a path down to the lake, whacking out at the undergrowth.
“Maisey?” she called. She hoped there were other people around to hear her. It was daylight, after all: surely other people were fishing or walking or something.
She passed the area where she’d found the dead cat, but it had gone now — dragged off to be eaten, no doubt. Hopefully by a fox and not a fish monster.
The blind came into view, perched on the lakeside. Sophia slipped on the mud, righted herself, and headed toward it. Heart thumping, she pulled open the door.
Empty.
“Fuck.” Sophia frowned. It didn’t look like anybody had been to the blind for a few hours. The muddy footprints on the wooden floorboards were dry. She turned and headed back outside.
“What are you doing?” Maisey stood before her, making her jump out of her skin.
“Looking for you!” She laughed in relief, though she was torn between giving Maisey a slap or a hug.
“I thought we agreed not to come down here?”
“Yeah, but I thought you’d come anyway.”
Maisey shook her head and turned away, and Sophia resigned herself to the silent treatment. She frowned over the state of her dirty shoes as she jabbed her stick in the mud to stop herself from falling on her ass. She looked up to see how far ahead Maisey had gone, and a plop from the lake made her turn.
Ignore it. The lake appeared unnaturally still, with not a ripple on its surface. Her heart palpitated unpleasantly, and she startled when something touched her arm.
Maisey smiled at her. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”
“Right.”
Just as she pulled the stick from the mud, there was a rush of water-noise and something wet and soft struck her on the side of the head, sending her to the ground. Maisey screamed. Sophia scrabbled in the mud, slipped, and sat back on her elbows.
The thing, the fish-creature, had hold of Maisey, forcing her to the ground. Sophia could only stare, frozen, while her girlfriend thrashed and struggled beneath the creature, before she came to her senses enough to grab for the stick.
“Maisey!”
She got to her feet and drew back the stick to strike the creature, but her eyes widened as it lowered its mouth over Maisey’s face and pressed its soft lips to her eyes.
Maisey’s screams were shrill and desperate. The creature sucked.
“Get off her!” Sophia raised the stick.
The monster lifted its head, pulled back its lips in a shark-smile, and looked at her with pretty green eyes. Maisey wasn’t still, wasn’t dead. Her hands clutched her face, and blood seeped between her fingers. Sophia swung the stick.
She hit the monster again. And again. And again.
Room 5: Verity’s Weekend
By Joleen Kuyper
The train was late. Verity turned her arm to check her wrist yet again. Her hand twitched. Half an hour late. Thirty-two minutes, to be precise. She knew it shouldn’t matter. Probably didn’t matter. Her anxiety was increasing, though, no matter how much she tried to talk herself down. She couldn’t be late; she had little enough time to spend there as it was, without public transport cutting it even shorter. As the train pulled into the station, she clutched her bags and took fast, jerky steps toward the door. It didn’t open quickly enough for her; she pressed the button twice, and when the door finally slid out of her way, she almost tumbled down the step. Across from the station Verity saw a taxi, and she ran toward it. “Lake Manor Hotel, please,” she said to the driver as she pulled her door closed and fumbled with her seatbelt, her bags still on her lap.
As the taxi edged closer to the hotel, her anxiety receded somewhat. The now-familiar countryside felt welcoming. Homecoming. Verity forced herself to take slow, deep breaths as the car pulled up outside the impressive structure. As soon as the driver applied the brakes, she hastily handed him a bill. “Keep the change,” she said, not even sure whether she’d handed him the twenty or the fifty. Not even caring. She was here. The driver offered to help with her bags, but Verity waved him away.
Lissette was at the front desk. Verity walked toward her, letting Hank the bellman take her bags as he tipped his hat and nodded to her. The staff were familiar with her now, as Verity was with them. Anxiety was giving way to excitement.
“Ms. Minchin,” Lissette said as Verity reached the desk.
“Ms. Grey,” Verity replied, smiling.
The older woman continued, “We have a different room for you this time; it features a fireplace—”
“No!” Verity interrupted. “I want my usual room, please, Ms. Grey.”
Lissette paused for a moment. “I’m afraid room five is not free this time, Ms. Minchin,” she said.
“I booked it! I booked it two weeks ago, when I was last here!” Verity insisted.
“I am deeply sorry, Ms. Minchin,” Lissette said. “I didn’t realize you intended to book that room, specifically. But room eleven is, in fact, even more luxurious, and I am sure you will still enjoy your stay with us—”
“No.” Verity shook her head. “Room five. That’s the room I reserved, that’s where I want to stay.”
Verity’s lip twitched, and she didn’t even care if Lissette noticed and thought her crazy. The two women regarded one another for a moment. “Surely you can switch the other guests to room eleven, and give me my — room five? Please? If it’s a question of money, I can pay extra,” Verity suggested.
Lissette didn’t reply immediately, and the pause felt agonizing to Verity. “I shall see what can be done,” Lissette said. “It certainly does seem popular, that room. Perhaps you would like to wait in the lounge, while I attend to this?”
Verity nodded and walked away from the desk, her anxiety building again but her energy spent.
There were two barstools free in the lounge, and she took the one in the corner, edging it even farther away from the other guests. “A gin and tonic, please, Clayton,” she said to the barman as he approached.
“Just Clay,” he said, with a smile and a wink, but Verity merely nodded blankly in reply. When did I get so old? she wondered, as he placed the gin and tonic down in front of her. Red wine had been her drink of choice, until recently. A vintage Bordeaux seemed like it wouldn’t taste right to her now. Nothing tasted right to her, now. She gulped the gin and tonic. It didn’t really taste of anything much, but at least it wasn’t offensive. She glanced around at the two women who sat sipping white wine and flirting with the barman, cooing over his paintings. Verity realized they were probably not much younger than her, but they seemed of a different generation. Different era, even. Another gin and tonic appeared before her, and she wasn’t even sure if she had asked for it and then forgotten, or if Clayton — Clay — had just served her one up anyway. Regardless of how it had gotten there, Verity drank it.
A throat clearing behind her interrupted her fourth G&T. Verity almost wept as Lissette told her that the other guests had agreed to switch rooms, and barely thanked the desk clerk as she hurried out of the lounge and up the staircase, leaving her half-finished drink behind her. Verity paid no attention to the people coming the other way down the corridor, didn’t dare thank them for switching rooms, in case they changed their minds. She opened the door to room five and closed it softly behind her.
&nb
sp; “I’m here,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m so sorry I’m so late — the train was late and the taxi was slow and there was a mix-up....”
“That’s all right,” a sweet, soft voice replied. “You’re here now.”
Verity let out a sigh and a sob at once as the boy melted out of the shadows. “James,” she said. “Oh, James.”
He smiled and didn’t reply. His blonde fringe was resting just a little too low on his forehead and Verity smiled, not for the first time thinking that he needed it trimmed.
“I so very much wish that I could hug you,” she whispered. James nodded, but didn’t say a word.
“Have you been very lonely, since I was last here?” Verity asked.
James nodded. “No one else sees me,” he told her sadly. “No one else cares. I didn’t think you were coming, when those other people checked in and started to open the door.... I thought you’d changed your mind.”
“No, never,” Verity said. “I’m here now; I will look after you in whatever way I can.” She sat on the armchair and closed her eyes as the boy came toward her and leaned in to her lap, trying to imagine close human contact with him.
“I think you’d feel warm, if I could feel anything, anymore,” he said sadly.
They stayed there, Verity breathing slowly, and James not at all, until Verity woke and realized she had drifted off and it was now dark outside.
“Sorry,” Verity whispered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. What would you like to do?”
“Tell me about your Jay,” James said. “I like hearing about him.”
Verity blinked away tears. “Jay, Jason, was born on a cold night in December. When I brought him home as a newborn, I was afraid he’d be cold, so I wrapped him up really well, and after that he was always warm. He would run around in just his underwear all summer long, if I let him.” Verity smiled. “And even in the coldest winters, I had to work hard to get him to wear a coat. He didn’t seem to feel the cold like other kids.”
“Just like I don’t feel the heat, like other kids,” James observed.
The Haunting of Lake Manor Hotel Page 7
