Saturday Afternoon

Everyone in the town of Eversong Bay knew the lake.
Bright summers were spent diving off the rock ledge, splashing each other until their parents hollered from the shore. Winters froze the water into a glassy mirror kids skated across. It was the backdrop of childhood—sunsets, secrets, and safety.
Except for the house.
It sat half-hidden in the pines on the far eastern shore, its grey roof sagging, its porch swallowed by shadows. No one swam near it. No one fished near it. No one even skipped stones in that direction.
It had always been there.
But no one had ever gone inside.
Until now.
Chapter 1 Dare Night
August’s heat clung stubbornly to the night as four friends stood at the edge of the lake:
Mia, the fearless one;
Dylan, the skeptic;
Harper, the storyteller;
and Jonah, whose curiosity always outweighed his common sense.
A full moon shimmered across the still water, casting the house into sharp silhouette.
Mia nudged Jonah. “You’ve been talking about what’s in that house since we were kids. Tonight’s the night.”
Harper shivered. “They say the place belonged to the Whitlock family. Vanished one night. Left dinner on the table, lights still on.”
“Urban legend,” Dylan muttered. “Every small town has one.”
“Then let’s prove it,” Mia said.
They stepped into the rowboat, paddles cutting through water that reflected the moon like silver glass. As they drifted toward the eastern shore, the house grew larger, older, more wrong.
None of them spoke.
Chapter 2 The Breaking Point
The house stood on stilts barely holding it above the lake-fed mud. A wooden walkway stretched from the pier to the front steps, warped with age.
Dylan evaluated the boards with his foot. “If one of us falls through, I’m leaving all of you behind.”
“That’s the spirit,” Mia said.
Inside, the air tasted like dust and lake water. The floor groaned under their weight. Cobwebs drifted like ghostly curtains.
But what struck them first wasn’t the decay.
It was the dining room.
A long table sat in the centerplates still set, silverware polished, chairs artfully arranged.
“Just like the stories,” Harper whispered.
But the food on the plates?
Perfectly preserved.
Fresh.
Steaming hot.
Jonah stepped closer. “This isn’t possible.”
And just then the front door slammed shut behind them.
Chapter 3 The House Remembers
Panic hit all at once. Dylan rushed to the door, pulling on the knob. It didn’t budge.
“Wind?” he said, though his voice shook.
“There is no wind,” Mia said.
A floorboard creaked behind them.
They spun around.
A figure stood at the head of the table—translucent, flickering like a reflection on water. A woman in a long dress, hair falling over her shoulders, eyes impossibly hollow.
She lifted a trembling hand.
“Sit,” she whispered.
Her voice rippled, layered, as if drowning beneath itself.
The plates on the table clattered.
Mia grabbed Jonah’s wrist. “Back up. Slowly.”
But the house groaned, as if waking from sleep. The walls seemed too almost pulsed. Shadows crawled along the ceiling.
Harper choked on a gasp. “It’s the Whitlocks… they’re trapped here.”
“No,” the woman said, turning toward Harper with sudden sharpness.
“We are not trapped.”
The candles around the room flared to life.
“You are.”
Chapter 4 The Lake’s Secret
The house shook violently, sending them stumbling against the walls. Water seeped between the floorboards, rising quickly—too quickly.
“This place is sinking!” Dylan shouted.
“No,” Jonah said, eyes wide with dawning horror.
“It’s pulling us under.”
Harper grabbed his arm. “Why!? Why us?”
The ghost woman’s face twisted—not in anger, but sorrow.
“We protected the lake,” she said. “We kept that which lies beneath asleep. But when we died… when our home was abandoned… the lake grew hungry.”
The water reached their ankles, freezing cold.
“What really lives beneath?” Mia demanded.
The woman looked toward the window.
The lake outside had begun to churn.
A dark shape rose beneath the surface, enormous and still rising.
“The reason no one goes near our shore,” the woman said. “The reason we never left.”
The creature’s shadow swallowed the moonlight.
“And now,” she whispered, “you will not leave either.”
Chapter 5 Fight or Sink
Panic surged through them. Dylan splashed toward the window. “We break out!” he shouted. “We can’t stay in here!”
Jonah grabbed a rusty chair and slammed it against the glass. It cracked—but didn’t break.
Mia tried again. Nothing.
Harper turned toward the ghost woman. “Help us! Please!”
She hesitated. Pain flickered across her ghostly features.
“We didn’t choose this,” Harper cried. “We just came here because… because we were curious.”
The woman’s expression softened.
“Then run,” she whispered.
With one sweeping gesture, she blew out every candle.
The house plunged into darkness.
The floor gave way.
The four friends plunged straight into the lake.
Chapter 6 — Surface or Shadow
Cold stole the breath from their lungs as they fought upward through the black water. Mia grabbed Harper’s hand. Dylan kicked desperately toward the moonlit surface.
Below them, something massive stirred.
A low, rumbling sound vibrated through the water.
The lake’s guardian—or the lake’s curse—was waking.
Jonah felt a tendril brush his leg. He screamed underwater, bubbles exploding from his mouth. Mia yanked him upward.
“Swim!” she choked when they broke through the surface.
The rowboat bobbed a dozen feet away. Dylan reached it first and hauled the others in, pulling so hard his hands bled.
The water behind them bulged upward, something rising, something ancient—
And then it stopped.
As if the lake itself watched them flee.
They paddled until their arms burned. Until their breath rasped. Until the haunted house was only a dark smudge on the far shore.
Only then did the lake fall silent again.
Epilogue: Never the Same Lake Again
The town didn’t believe their story. Of course it didn’t. Kids invent ghost tales every summer.
But the four friends knew the truth.
The house still stands.
The plates still wait.
The lake still hides whatever sleeps beneath it.
And sometimes—late at night when the moon is full—Mia swears she sees a flicker of a woman in a long dress standing on the far shore, watching the water…
…making sure they never come back.