The village of Kashiwara sat like a forgotten memory, nestled by the edge of a sprawling, murky lake. For years, the village had been shrouded in an eternal fog, the type that clung to the skin and made the air thick with the taste of damp earth. Rhea had heard the rumors before she arrived, but she didn’t believe them. After the tragic loss of her younger brother, Alex, she had moved here to escape the ghosts of her past, or so she hoped.
The small stone house she had rented overlooked the lake, with a weathered dock jutting out from the shore, its planks creaking under the weight of time. From her window, she often watched the water ripple in the stillness, feeling a strange pull she couldn’t quite explain.
The villagers had a quiet, almost secretive way about them, their eyes darting nervously whenever she asked too many questions. There were whispers, subtle and hidden, but they were enough to make Rhea uneasy. She had heard the stories of people who had vanished in the lake, their bodies never recovered, but it wasn’t until she heard the whispers that she began to feel the weight of the place pressing against her sanity.
It started with the children. On her second day in the village, she overheard a group of them by the market, their laughter interrupted by hushed voices.
“Do you think the lake will take another one?” one of them asked.
“The whispers are getting louder,” another replied, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting something to emerge from the fog.
Rhea shook her head and brushed it off. Kids always had wild imaginations, right? But the unease lingered, gnawing at her like a persistent, low murmur in the back of her mind.
She had only been there a week, but the lake was already starting to feel... alive. Something about it seemed to call to her in a way she couldn’t explain.
---
As days passed, Rhea found herself drawn to the lake more and more. She would wander down to the shore, staring out at the water, feeling an unshakable sense of longing. It wasn’t just the lake—it was the whispering wind that carried faint voices, voices that almost sounded like Alex calling to her from the depths.
On the fourth day, she met Sohail, a local fisherman who seemed to always be near the water. He had an air of caution about him, his eyes tired and worn, and when he spoke, it was with a tone that suggested he knew more than he was willing to share.
“You should stay away from the lake,” he told her one evening as she walked past his boat. “It has a way of pulling people in. People disappear. It’s not safe.”
Rhea laughed nervously, shaking her head. “I’m not afraid of a lake.”
“You should be,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “The water takes what it wants. It’s... hungry.”
She didn’t understand. “Hungry?”
He gave her a long, steady look before turning back to his boat. “It’s better you don’t know. Just stay away.”
That night, after a restless sleep, Rhea returned to the shore, determined to confront whatever was haunting her. As she sat on the edge of the dock, her eyes locked on the stillness of the lake, she heard it—soft, almost imperceptible at first. A voice. Faint, but unmistakable.
“Rhea...”
Her heart skipped a beat. She whipped her head around, expecting to see someone standing behind her, but there was no one. The shore was empty, the fog thickening around her. The voice called again, this time clearer.
“Rhea... come to me.”
She stumbled backward, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her breath quickened as she stared at the water, and that’s when she saw it—something beneath the surface, moving just out of reach. A figure, tall and impossibly thin, its outline barely visible in the darkness.
Her mind screamed for her to run, but she couldn’t move. The figure’s shadow stretched toward her, its shape becoming more defined, the outline of a face slowly appearing above the water. And then, she heard the voice again, as clear as if the person were standing beside her.
“I’m here, Rhea.”
Her heart stopped. It was Alex. His voice, calling from the lake.
---
Rhea’s body shook as she struggled to make sense of what was happening. It couldn’t be Alex—he was dead. She had seen him drown. She had watched him disappear into the depths of the lake that night, the night that had destroyed everything she knew.
But here it was again, that voice—his voice—beckoning her, urging her to step closer.
The fog thickened, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She felt the pull in her chest, a magnetic force that drew her toward the water. Her legs moved before she could stop them, taking her closer to the shore, closer to the figure in the water.
“Alex?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The figure’s face emerged from the murky depths, its eyes wide and empty, staring straight at her. It was him, but it wasn’t. There was something wrong with the way he looked, the way his skin seemed too pale, his hair too still.
“Come,” he whispered, reaching toward her with thin, waterlogged fingers.
She could feel the coldness of the water calling to her, tugging at her soul, drawing her closer. It was as if the lake was alive, its hunger insatiable, and she was the next meal.
Her mind screamed at her to stop, but the voice of her brother, the one she had mourned for years, was too strong. It was a siren song, an irresistible call to come closer.
Then, suddenly, another voice cut through the fog—this one filled with desperation.
“Rhea!”
She whipped her head around to see Elder Naresh standing a few feet away, his face pale, his hands shaking. He had been watching her.
“You have to leave,” he gasped, rushing toward her. “It’s the lake! It wants you!”
But it was too late. The figure in the water, her brother’s ghost, smiled—twisted, eerie—and reached for her again.
Rhea’s heart thudded in her chest as she stumbled backward, her feet tangling in the undergrowth. The grip of the lake was unbearable, a silent command to turn around and return to the water. But her mind screamed in defiance, drowning out the voice that beckoned her.
“Rhea!” Naresh’s voice was a lifeline. She turned to find him rushing toward her, his gnarled hand outstretched, grabbing her by the arm just as she teetered on the edge of the dock. He pulled her back, away from the cursed waters, his hands trembling. The spell began to break as the fog seemed to part, just enough to allow clarity to seep in.
The lake’s surface, once smooth as glass, rippled violently as if it were disturbed by something unseen beneath. Rhea felt a coldness grip her from within, like her very soul had been touched by the shadow in the water. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the damp earth, gasping for breath, her hands pressed to her chest.
“You don’t understand,” Naresh said, his voice a raw whisper now, his eyes not leaving the lake. “It’s a part of this place. The lake... it doesn’t just take. It feeds.” He paused, his gaze flicking toward Rhea’s face. “It feeds on grief. And it’s been waiting for you.”
Rhea’s pulse quickened as the weight of his words sank in. She wanted to shake the images from her mind, to deny the growing truth that clung to her like a suffocating fog. But she couldn’t deny it any longer. The pull, the voice, the ghostly apparition—it was all real. The lake had been waiting for her, and now that it had found her, it would not let her go so easily.
“Why me?” she whispered, her voice hollow with fear.
Naresh knelt beside her, his face etched with sorrow. “Because you carry a wound, Rhea. You have something the lake wants... your brother’s death. The grief you haven’t let go of. The lake is a prison for souls—those who are lost, those who are forgotten. Your brother is trapped there, and it will take you to keep him company.”
A chill ran down Rhea’s spine, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse into the earth. “But... I can’t. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want him to die. I couldn’t save him…”
Naresh’s eyes softened. “You can’t undo what’s been done. But you can stop it from taking you. You can break the cycle.”
Her breath hitched. “How?”
He looked away, as though lost in the depths of some painful memory. “There’s only one way. You must face it. Face your brother. Face the guilt that haunts you. Only then can the lake release you. But beware—once it takes a soul, it does not let go easily.”
Rhea’s thoughts raced. Could she really confront the thing that had haunted her for so long? Could she face her brother’s ghost, the guilt that weighed so heavily on her heart? The very idea of it terrified her, yet she knew, deep down, that there was no other choice. The lake had marked her, and unless she faced it, it would never let her go.
With a shaky breath, she nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll face him.”
---
The next night, Rhea returned to the lake. The air was thick with tension, and the fog rolled in once again, as though the earth itself was preparing for the confrontation. Naresh had given her a talisman, a small, weathered charm that he claimed would protect her. But Rhea wasn’t sure whether she believed in such things. All she knew was that she had to face what had been consuming her for years.
As she walked toward the dock, the water seemed to come alive, whispering her name in that haunting, familiar voice. “Rhea... come to me.”
The figure appeared, rising from the depths like a ghost, its face still obscured by the water. The whispers grew louder, urging her to step closer, to embrace the darkness that awaited her. But Rhea held firm, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Alex,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. But I’ve carried the guilt for too long. I need to let you go.”
The figure’s eyes glowed, an eerie, unnatural light, and for a moment, Rhea felt as though she might drown in their depths. It was him. It was her brother, or at least, the ghost of him. But it was not the same. There was something wrong—something twisted about the way he smiled, the way his eyes seemed to pierce her very soul.
“You couldn’t save me,” the figure said, its voice a hollow echo of the past. “But you can save yourself.”
Rhea reached into her pocket and pulled out the talisman. She held it high, its worn surface gleaming in the moonlight. The figure recoiled as if burned, its form flickering, shifting in the mist. For a moment, it was as if the lake itself was writhing, protesting the light, the warmth that had intruded into its cold, dark grip.
“Go,” Rhea whispered, her voice gaining strength. “Leave me. Leave my brother. Leave this place.”
The figure let out a low, guttural growl, and for a moment, Rhea thought she had failed. But then, the air shifted. The whispering died down, and the lake calmed. The figure began to dissipate, its form melting into the water like mist. Slowly, the fog lifted, revealing a clear sky above.
Rhea collapsed onto the dock, gasping for breath. She felt lighter, freer than she had in years. The burden that had weighed on her heart seemed to lift, replaced with a quiet sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.
The lake, for the first time, was still.
But as Rhea stood, ready to leave, she caught a glimpse of something in the water—something she hadn’t seen before. Her brother’s face, pale and distant, staring up at her from the depths. His mouth moved as if trying to speak, but the words were lost to the water.
Rhea’s heart stuttered in her chest. Was the cycle truly broken? Or had she simply been given a moment of respite?
With a final, sorrowful glance at the lake, Rhea turned and walked away. The village behind her was quiet, but she knew, deep down, that the lake’s hunger was not gone. It would wait. It would always wait.
And it would never truly let go.
---
The End
