Chapter 1
Going for an early evening swim in the stifling summer months is one of my guilty pleasures, and really, it’s only a guilty pleasure because I like to go alone. I know I need to think about my safety and blah blah blah… I’ve heard it all before. People really need to stop worrying so much. I take care to make sure my swims are safe and sensible – never when it’s too dark, or with an injury, on a full stomach or anywhere where I might be at the mercy of a stranger with sinister plans. All that good stuff.
I live in the middle of nowhere, which just so happens to be in a densely wooded area, roughly two minutes steady trekking distance away from the most enchanting, secluded lake you could ever hope to stumble across, as I did, when I first moved here. Why it wasn’t listed on any local maps or on the perks of the property when I rented it was a mystery to me, especially considering its breathtaking beauty. But I wasn’t about to complain - it seemed that the lack of advertisement about this little slice of heaven meant that I never saw another soul here. Ever!
I thought it was pure luck the first time, but I’d been for a handful of swims now and never encountered so much as a footprint of another human being. It’s more than I could have ever dreamed of when I packed up and moved away from the city, and I’ve relished my good fortune ever since, soaking up the natural charm at every opportunity.
Tonight, I’d embarked on my usual journey, bikini on underneath my shorts and t-shirt combo, a towel, a drink and some snacks and a jumper in case I got cold. And yes, before you ask, of course I brought my cellphone with me. We’ve all seen Friday the 13th and I’m not about to get slashed up by some mommy’s boy with a bad attitude just because I came unprepared.
I stood at the edge of the lake for a moment when I arrived and took in a deep breath of the still-warm summer air as I beheld the sight before me. A beautiful, crisp lake, edged with dark dense forest, glistening in the reds and golds and purples of the setting sunlight, refracting in captivating, dancing beams of light across the surface of the water. The air was so still, it always was, and only the sound of crickets accompanied the steady inhale and exhale of my own breathing.
I laid out my towel on the sandy edge of the lake and began to undress, pulling my t-shirt and shorts off with an eagerness that betrayed my excitement at plunging into the cooling embrace of the water. I kicked off my shoes, ripped the socks off of my feet and with about as much grace and dignity as a 3-legged giraffe, I ran into the water, giggling to myself at the childish act.
The water enveloped me like a soothing blanket, wrapping me in a delicate caress of relaxation. My sticky, sweat-coated skin immediately transformed into a canvas of fresh, silky-smooth alabaster and I sighed out my contentment as I kicked my feet off the bottom of the lake to float on my back, eyes-closed, with a satisfied smile lighting up my face. I would never get tired of this place.
It was as I floated, lost in my blissful reverie that I felt…something… brush against the back of my thigh. There were a few fish in this lake, not many, but enough that one might accidentally brush past me, I reasoned, and quickly brushed off the sensation as I continued to float.
It was only when I felt the same brush, in almost the same spot that I thought something strange might be happening. Perhaps I’d cut my leg before I got in the water and the fish were feeding on my open wound… gross!
It was as I went to right myself and check out the back of my leg that it happened. The brushing came back, this time not a quick brush over my skin, but a long and languid stroke. I lay, floating there in shock for a beat. I was pretty sure fish didn’t move… like that.
As I tried to reason what on earth might be happening to me, a second something began stroking my other thigh. The same motion and slow, almost reverent movements across my skin. It wasn’t that I was scared at that moment, I was just plain confused. What on earth was going on?
As I again decided to right myself to find out exactly what it was that was exploring my thighs in such an unusual way, the most unexpected thing happened. Two large, black-purple tentacles emerged slowly from the surface of the lake, either side of both of my legs. The tentacles were an odd colour, like the sky before a storm at twilight, and glistened with some sort of mucus coating which seemed to repel the water somewhat.
Whilst I studied these bizarre appendages and their fascinating hue, my eyebrows drawn together in confusion, they moved with both a grace and speed that made me jolt. As I watched, they began to wrap themselves with a force that should not be possible, around the thickness of my middle-thighs. The tentacles were cool and smooth - lubricated in that odd, viscous liquid and seemed to ripple and flex with pure muscle as they wrapped tightly around me and, to my horror, began to gently but surely pull my thighs apart.
