| Category: | Ghost Stories |
|---|
Beneath the murky surface of Lake Lewisville, there is more than just the ruins of prehistoric times. Locals whisper of something ancient, older than the lake itself, stirring in its depths. Every year, people vanish beneath the waves, dragged under as if by invisible hands. The official reports cite accidents—tangled weeds, sudden drop-offs—but those who live by the lake know better.
The waters conceal something hungry.
It started with the discovery of prehistoric archeological sites beneath the lake—bones of creatures that roamed the earth before human memory. Among them, the remains of something resembling a prehistoric hippo, but the bones seemed… wrong. Twisted. As if touched by something unnatural. The scientists thought little of it, merely an evolutionary anomaly, but the lake knew. It remembered. And it waited.
The drownings began to increase. People, strong swimmers, would suddenly vanish beneath the surface, their bodies never recovered. They said something down there reached up—an ancient predator awakened by the disturbance of the lake bed. It doesn't just grab. It holds. It pulls people down into its realm, where light never penetrates and bones dissolve into the sediment.
Few have returned after going under. Those who do, babble incoherently about feeling something brush against them, something with teeth, something with an ancient malice. They speak of eyes, too—vast and cold, watching from the dark.
Once you're in its grasp, there's no escape. You are dragged down into a labyrinth of blackness, where the bones of creatures long extinct rest, waiting. There, the drowned linger in a half-life, neither dead nor alive, caught in the lake's eternal grip. They become part of it—its sentinels, its keepers—until the lake is ready to feed again.
And so, each year, it takes more.
Some say it's a cryptid, a prehistoric being forgotten by time. Others believe it's something even older, a remnant from when the earth was young, bound to the lake, cursed to drag the living down into the dark until the lake is satisfied.
But the lake is never satisfied.
And when the next swimmer feels that sudden cold brush at their ankle, they'll wonder if it's just the weeds… or if something from beneath has finally found them.