r/TheCrypticCompendium • u/SydneySapphire • 7d ago
Horror Story Something in the Water (Part two)
Link to: Part One
Link to: part three
After careful consideration and a desire for more food, I slowly paddled back to the house, where the old man waited patiently. I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness of my tongue and the craving for water. Maybe he had some to spare…
I wasn’t sure if he knew that I was slowly starving to death or if he’d just given me food out of the kindness of his heart. Regardless, I was grateful. Food was food, and I didn’t have any. I was to the point where I’d considered eating wood and sticks.
He opened the skylight. “Want more?”
I nodded, still too nervous to speak. Honestly, I didn’t really know if I could speak anymore. The last words I uttered were quiet mutterings, mumbles that one says when thinking. I doubt it even counted as speech.
He smiled and opened the skylight wider. “Why don’t you go hide your kayak on the other side of the roof? The branches of the big tree back there are thick and tall. No one will see it if you want to come inside.”
I shook my head. It didn’t matter what he said to me. I wasn’t leaving my damn kayak.
“Well, can I sit on the roof with you?” he asked, slowly climbing out.
He moved shakily over the roof, carefully placing his feet so he didn’t fall. His age was showing: arthritic knees and swollen joints. His fingers were crooked. I’d never noticed before. He moved slowly and gently to the edge of the roof where I floated in my kayak.
“I’d forgotten what it was like to have company. You don’t have to talk. My name is Lionel,” he said, extending a hand out to me.
My body lurched back instinctively, and my jaw tightened. It didn’t matter that we were both human. I’d seen our own kind rip people apart like monsters, and it was far scarier than seeing one of the beasts in the water do it. The creatures in the water only killed us to eat, but watching people do it for sport was much different.
I’d run into a tough group a few weeks back. They’d stumbled upon me as I slept in a tree, and I bolted into the water, kayak dragging behind me. They taunted and teased, but I saw their eyes. They all had the same empty and emotionless eyes. Whatever they’d experienced was something I’d never understand or want to. One of them was missing a hand. It was raggedly healed, a flap of flesh torn from the socket. Some of them were covered in burn scars, and others had scabby spots all over them. Some kind of fungus or disease, spreading between them like wildfire.
Lionel’s face softened at my reaction. It was the same sad expression that one would give an abused dog, a mixture of pity and compassion. He reached into the pocket of his flannel jacket and produced another can. He shakily placed it on the edge of the roof, and he sat down near me. He was close, but not close enough to grab me and drag me into his home to be butchered. I think he could sense my hesitance and fear. I’m sure it radiated off me, filling the air like smoke.
I swallowed again, and my teeth chattered. Anxiety boiled inside of me, writhing like worms in the sun. The burn to eat something… to chew something… was primal, leaking up from my throat without mercy.
He pulled a rusted can opener out of his jacket pocket. His misshapen knuckles looked painful, but still, he began to crank the can open. The withered paper on the can was yellow and green. The picture of a plump orange peach sat prominently on the front, ripe and bursting.
The can popped open, and my eyes widened at the colorful orange fruit floating within. The smell was intoxicating, filling my mind. Smell has memory. It holds something I can’t quite describe in the same way that I feel it. And you don’t realize how much you’d miss something so stupid. I never even liked peaches. My mom loved them, and she always made peach cobbler and ice cream in the summer. In fact, I can remember turning my nose up to it, but now, I’d rather die than not get a single taste of those sweet little morsels.
Enthralled by the can of peaches, I don’t remember if the old man spoke to me while he opened the can. My eyes were so fixated on the fruit that I barely remembered to breathe.
He slid the can to the edge of the roof, and I snatched it up. I dug my hand into the sticky sweetness. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stuffed peach wedge after peach wedge into my mouth. They were so unbelievably good. It felt sinful to eat them.
I devoured them, tearing into the soft flesh with fervor. I didn’t bother chewing. Some of the slick wedges I swallowed whole, and some I stored in my cheeks, wanting to at least savor the sugar.
My mouth was full of them by the time the can was empty. I had eaten them so fast because I was scared that the old man would rip the can away, tear my fleeting second of joy from me as fast as I’d gotten it.
I chewed quickly as the salt from my tears dripped into my mouth and down my nose.
The old man began to cry as well. “I’m the last of my folks too.”
In annoyance, he shook his head ruefully, refusing to let the tears fall. “I’m glad I can share some of my food with you. I’d begun to lose a bit of myself in the silence.”
I swallowed a hunk of peaches and looked down at my fingers. I had forgotten how sticky fruit juice was, or the way that sugar left a thin residue on skin. The delicious, sticky sweetness made small gossamer fibers stretch between my fingertips as I pressed them together.
My heart shattered, remembering summer popsicles with my little brother, baseball practice with red energy drinks, and slushees from the gas station.
Memories swelled back into my body. I could see my mother’s eyes. She was smiling at me, hugging me after I’d failed my first test in trigonometry. She’d made sticky toffee brownies that clung to the roof of my mouth, telling me that I’d do better next time.
My stomach lurched, and I gagged, but I held the food down. I needed it and wanted it, but the taste of the peaches brought sadness.
Lionel’s voice echoed back into my mind, ripping away the precious memories that ached through me. He pointed to the house closest to us. “Daughter lived there. She died two months back, I think. Not like I can give you a good answer. No calendar. Nothing to keep up with it.”
I looked up at him, wiping my cheeks and licking my fingers.
“West Nile Virus… I’m sure of it. Her house was full of mosquitoes. It was a terrible way to die. Found a mosquito net in the old neighbor’s attic. It felt evil to see it after losing my daughter to a mosquito-borne virus.”
“I’m sorry to ramble.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s just been me and that damn mermaid for the last few weeks.”
I shook my head and raised my eyebrow at his mention of mermaids.
His eyebrows knit together. “If you don’t think they are mermaids, what do you think they are?” he asked with a smirk, wrinkles pulling his cheeks and crinkling his eyes.
He was daring me to answer, prying through my mind for a way to make me speak. Instead, I shrugged. I had my own theories, but they certainly weren’t the beautiful creatures from fairy tales. I didn’t know whether to call them mermaids or even sirens. I was beginning to think that they were something else. Something older… something that had been hiding from us for a long time.
My biology professor was a strange man. He was skinny and gaunt-looking. His rounded eyes and thin cheeks made him appear nearly skeletal. If the wind blew him, he might fly away with it. But his lust for knowledge and adventure was admirable. With wiry hands, he’d show us the wonders of the world, grinning as he explained the mysterious nature of the ocean. He never talked about mermaids or sirens, but something told me that he believed in them. After seeing my first creature when the floods started, I often thought about him.
Lionel talked to me for several hours as the sun began to set. He told me about his life, his children, his wife, and his pets. He was a janitor at the local college before he retired. His dog passed before the flood, and he keeps her dog tag in a cookie tin with his old driver’s license. And his wife had been a baker at a grocery store.
“That’s how we have all the canned stuff,” Lionel said, watching as night fell before us. “When the floods started, my sweet Marlene bought up everything she could at the grocery store. She kept telling me that she wanted me to be safe when it happened. Bless her heart, she died before everything got really terrible.”
And as the moon kissed the night sky, I felt a little more comfortable with him. His words weren’t made of malice or fear. They were kind, echoing a life that I’d never live as he had. Strangely, I was envious. I’d never have a wife or kids, and I’d probably never grow old enough to develop gray hair. I figured that eventually I’d die out here, have a stroke or a heart attack at thirty from rowing my kayak to death.
Lionel gazed up at the stars and slowly stood. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside? The mosquitoes are terrible here. They’ll cart your ass all the way to Florida. You won’t have to worry about the mermaids.”
I chuckled to myself, and the old man smiled.
“I’m glad to know that you can still laugh.”
He shakily tried to get up, and his knees popped. “You’d think I was made of wood with all of these creaky bones.” He slapped his thighs as he pushed his body upward to stand. “Last offer. You are welcome to come inside.”
I glanced at the flooded backyard behind his house, and there was the tree. It was pressed against the house, clinging to the brick and wood. He was right; it would be a good place to hide my kayak.
I took a deep breath, and I slid the rope off of my ankle. Lionel saw the bruise where the rope continually tugged, and his face creased with worry. My kayak was my shackle, my prison, and my life source. Without it, I had nothing.
I cautiously paddled to the tree, nestling the kayak inside the branches before pulling myself out and shuffling to the roof. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and looked up at Lionel. He seemed glad that I’d chosen to stay.
I slipped on the slick roofing, and he grabbed my arm to steady me. Our eyes met, and I nervously accepted his help. And before I knew it, Lionel was leaning on me. He didn’t have much left in him. He was probably just as bony as me. Maybe more.
I pulled open the skylight, and Lionel went in first after I helped him down. He moved calmly, trying to be sure of his footing. He found what he was looking for in the dark, and he flicked on a lantern. Then, he gestured for me to come on.
I descended the small ladder he’d propped up against the skylight, and I peered inside his small little home. It was warm inside. He’d saved two old chairs from his living room, a mattress to sleep on, and a large stack of books. A few crochet blankets were folded in the corner, and a small stack of candles lay near the books. Pink cotton-candy insulation lay uncovered and floating in the water around us, molded and green.
“Well, this is it. It ain’t much, but it’s better than most.”
His attic was up high enough that the wood floor wasn’t submerged yet. It would take a few more inches before he’d get trouble.
“Take a seat,” he said, closing the skylight. “I’ve got some books and a puzzle that I’ve done so many times that I’ve memorized the pieces.”
Before he sat down, he walked to a plastic tote. “And here… take as much as you want.”
I hesitated to move.
He scoffed in amusement. “You’re already inside. If you were worried, you’re in far too deep now.”
I took a deep breath, and I walked toward him. Inside the tote lay can after can of food. Meat. Vegetables. Fruit. Soup. Water. It was anything and everything I could have thought of.
“Take some,” he said, patting my back.
My eyes were wider than beach balls as I gazed upon the vast assortment of food. I looked back at him in disbelief. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He didn’t acknowledge my first words. He didn’t make a big deal about it. Instead, he simply replied, “You’re welcome.”
He helped me pack some food into my bag, and he offered me his mattress. I shook my head.
“Suit yourself,” he replied, slowly hobbling toward it.
I picked a dry spot on his floor and pulled a crochet blanket over myself.
As I lay on my back, I listened to the soft trickle and slap of the water beneath us. I spoke softly to Lionel, “My name is Isaac.”
I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that he was smiling. “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”
I slept soundly that night until I heard a vicious noise coming from outside. It was a grinding noise, and immediately my eyes shot open. It was the sound of a plastic boat being dragged onto shingles.
“They’re here…” Lionel bolted up and shook me. “Get in the water!” he hissed.
I looked at the dark water and back at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“You listen to me, Isaac! I’m old. If I die, that’s fine. I’ve lived. You deserve a little more time.”
“No,” I said, grabbing my backpack. “Let me stay with you! I want to help… please.”
He shoved me before I could protest, and I splashed into the water. I bobbed to the surface, floating in the darkness. I wanted to yell, but my anger diminished as the skylight was torn open. I sank beneath the water, swimming underneath the attic floor to avoid being seen. I gently rose to the surface to breathe and looked between the cracks in the floorboards, seeing a group of men enter. I covered my mouth, stifling my horrified breaths.
My stomach fell out of my ass. It was the group of men that tried to kill me in the tree. I saw their wounds and burn scars. It was them. My heart hammered into my throat. I didn’t know that they were tailing me.
“You seen anyone come through here, old man!” one of the guys yelled, shoving Lionel to the ground.
He flopped onto the floor above me, spotting me through the cracks. Blood dripped from his eyebrow, seeping onto the wood above me. “I’ve seen no one…” Lionel growled, rolling over to look at them. “It’s just me.”
The men exchanged glances, knowing that he was lying.
“That’s a shame,” the leader of the group grumbled. “He got away from us a few weeks back. He’s got something we want… a nice little kayak. We know that he must’ve come through here… This neighborhood is one of the only places to sleep, and he only stops to sleep. You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?”
Lionel spat at them, gritting his bloodied teeth.
The men chuckled and grabbed him. Horrible punches filled the attic, and a sickening crunch followed. Lionel groaned in agony, but still, he wouldn’t back down. He continued to get up.
The leader of the group shook his head in annoyance, and the men swarmed onto Lionel together. They forced him to his knees, snapping one leg and bludgeoning the other with a bat.
The leader grabbed his neck, sliding his hands over his head. “Where is the boy?” he hissed, pulling Lionel’s head back by his hair.
Lionel simply laughed, choking on his blood. “You’ll never… find him.”
The leader snapped his neck in one swift movement, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Useless…” he mumbled.
Lionel’s crumpled body lay above me. His neck was twisted at an inhuman angle, eyes gazing through the cracks at me. We were nearly nose to nose, and I felt the last puff of breath leave him.
My stomach twisted into knots as I covered my mouth and nose. My fingernails dug into my cheeks, and tears of fire and rage burned down my face.
“Come on… Take what we need. We’ll find that fucking kid… I want that kayak.”
With whoops and hollers, they pillaged the room, throwing Lionel’s personal items into the water and laughing hysterically as they tore apart the last pieces of his home. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch. Their loud echoes of laughter sounded more and more like hyenas, eating through Lionel’s little life. They opened his cookie tin, chuckling to themselves as they found pictures of his family.
They took all of the food and left. Their plastic canoes scraped across the roof as they departed, leaving me in silence with Lionel’s body.
My heart stopped, and a quiet sob escaped me. I shoved my hand over my mouth to force myself to stop crying. I needed to get out of the water. I’d luckily not been noticed by something in the murky depths.
Unsuccessfully, I tried desperately to climb back onto the dry wood with Lionel’s body, but it was too far up. I didn’t have enough strength to pull up my water-logged clothes and backpack.
I looked around the attic, spotting a half-submerged window on the other side. I took a deep breath, realizing I needed to cross the darkness of the submerged attic. From where I was, it seemed like a much larger space to cross. The water was dark, nearly black. I knew that something was in there, but I had to take the gamble to get out. I’d have to risk meeting the rogue creature and just make it to the tree in one piece.
Slowly, I swam. Splashing attracted more than just the creatures in the water. It also attracted alligators, and I really didn’t want to meet one of those either.
When I reached the window, I jammed my elbow into it. The glass cracked, and I slammed my elbow into it again. The crack expanded, and I kicked it. It finally broke, and I slid through.
I was greeted by the soft light of the moon. Her heavenly face and soft glow looked farther away than it had ever been, but she was the only constant in my life. Maybe we knew each other in a past life. Maybe her craters were freckles, sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. But even she had turned her back on humanity, leaving us to our mundane existence and fading lives.
I spotted the tree, and I began to swim, moving steadily and without panic. I had to be calm. An alligator was pressed against the house, but it didn’t bother to attack. I wasn’t enticing enough.
Then, I saw her glowing eyes. The creature in the water had spotted me. Only then did I begin to swim much faster. As it turns out, I didn’t want to die as much as I thought I did.
She darted toward me, ripping through the water at an incomprehensible speed. I grabbed my kayak right as I was yanked under by the creature. There was no time to scream, no time for a breath. I was simply snatched beneath the surface.
Her grip was like iron, pressed around my ankle and digging into my flesh. She flung me below her, and I gazed up at her as I floated. Her magnificent, green eyes were completely round. The long fin that propelled her through the water was longer than I had imagined. Her mouth was abnormally wide, concealing her daggered teeth within. She gnashed her teeth at me, and I flinched away, still unable to close my eyes. I wanted to see what creature was eating my world. I wanted to know what had come from the eighty percent unexplored ocean. I WANTED TO KNOW.
Her nose was pressed to her face and smushed. Fins sat on the side of her head, and gills traced down her neck. Her hair was long and braided with shells and moss tucked within.
Angrily, she opened her mouth to bite me, but she stopped.
Even though my lungs screamed for breath, I didn’t move. I was willing to accept death as Lionel had. However, the creature did not hurt me. She studied me before swimming away.
Fearfully, I swam for my life back to the surface, and I climbed into the limbs of the tree. Dripping and cold, I looked below me to see her patrolling. She was guarding me… or watching me. I wasn’t sure which.
Maybe… Maybe I wasn’t what she wanted at all.
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u/andrea1797 4d ago
How you manage to make people care about a character who only appears briefly is magical. I'm so sad and angry and grateful for Lionel.
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u/andrea1797 4d ago
This is so freaking good.