by Amy Cross
“What do I do if I feel something around my foot?” Kevin asks cautiously.
“Don't start randomly kicking,” I tell him. “That'll just make it worse. You need to stay calm and slip your foot out carefully.”
“And then I won't die?”
“I don't think so. I mean, I'm not an expert.”
“But there aren't really things down there, are there?” he continues. “That's just a story they tell to scare people. Right?”
“There are loads of stories about this place,” Chuck replies, stepping past us both and heading to the edge of the water. “It's a young lake, less than a century old. It's not even that big, some people even reckon it doesn't count as a lake, and that it's really just a very big pond. Nobody's quite sure why it suddenly appeared here one day, but there was some kind of landslide or something, and the river broke through, stuff like that. Some people say that there used to be a cottage in the area, and that it belonged to a witch, and that now the cottage is down there under the water, and that the witch is still in it. Other people say that there was a demon tree that kept children prisoner, holding onto 'em like fruit. I even heard it said once that a monster lived here, and that he made the lake to trap people, and that at the very bottom there's an evil root that goes all the way down to where Satan lives.”
He pauses, before turning to us with a faint smile.
“That's why it's called Devil's Root Lake. 'Cause of the root at the bottom. And it's the root that comes up and grabs your leg while you're swimming and pulls you down to drown.”
I turn to Kevin and see that he looks pretty pale.
“Those are just urban legends,” I tell him. “I mean, they're barely one step up from fairy-tales.”
“There are other stories too,” Chuck continues with glee, as Kevin and I approach the lake-shore. “Apparently there are ghosts here. People have seen weird little kids, and a woman too. They haunt the lake and try to warn people not to go into the water.”
“I don't believe in ghosts,” Kevin whispers, with the strained, fearful voice of someone who absolutely does believe. “Ghosts are stupid.”
“Get in the water, then,” Chuck says with a grin. “Foolin' time's over. Time to show you're a big boy, Kevin Neil Asherson.”
Kevin stares out at the lake for a moment, before starting to strip down to his swimming outfit.
“If you start screaming,” Chuck continues gleefully, “we'll come in and help you. Maybe. Depends how we feel.”
“You don't have to do this,” I tell Kevin, worried that fear might make him pass out. “You don't need to prove anything to anyone. No-one'll listen to Chuck at school anyway, and Kelli likes you for who you are, not because of some stupid dare.”
“Shut up!” Chuck tells me, keeping his eyes fixed on Kevin. “This is eighth grade, where reputations are won and lost for life. If you chicken out now, you'll have to spend the rest of your years knowing that you're a goddamn yellow-bellied coward with no -”
“Alright!” Kevin hisses, stepping forward until his bare feet are in the water. “I'm doing it! It's freezing, but I'm doing it!”
“Are you sure? 'Cause -”
“I'm doing it! Look at me, my feet are wet! I'm doing it!”
“Words are cheap,” Chuck replies, stepping back and stopping next to me. “And right now, you ain't doin' any more than paddling. Let's see you swim, bitch!”
Kevin hesitates, and I feel desperately sorry for him. Then again, I warned him during recess the other day that he shouldn't make a bet with Chuck, because Chuck always takes these things too far. I mean, I like Chuck well enough, but he's a hell of a meat-head sometimes. My father always says that Chuck's one of those kids who, if he played football, would do really well on account of having a thick skull. But Chuck doesn't play football.
“Get on with it,” Chuck says suddenly. “What's wrong? Scared that the horror of Devil's Root Lake might drag you down and add you to its collection of corpses?”
“That doesn't help him!” I hiss.
He starts laughing, but he stops when Kevin steps further out.
“I'm mildly impressed now,” Chuck continues. “You're already doing better than I expected.”
“But there's nothing out here really, is there?” Kevin replies. “The stories about Devil's Root Lake are just stories, right guys?”
“Of course,” I tell him. “And you're a good swimmer. This'll be easy. Just stay focused, stay calm, and -”
“Don't help him!” Chuck hisses, rolling his eyes. “For God's sake, Tommy, let the wimp do this himself!”
Sighing, I watch as Kevin makes his way a little further out, although after a couple of minutes he's still only up to his knees. Maybe the water really is cold, or maybe he's letting the fear take control, but I swear he's starting to shiver, and finally he stops and stares down at the water. I glance at Chuck and see that he's amused by the whole thing, and then I turn to Kevin and realize that he seems to be looking at the water all around.
Finally he says something. Something too quiet to hear.
“What was that, dumb-ass?” Chuck calls out. “Did you say you wanted us to go get your mommy?”
“I see them,” he stammers.
“Huh?”
“What's wrong?” I ask, taking a step forward. “Kevin?”
“I see children,” he continues, his voice tense with shock as he looks over at the far shore. “Lots of them, standing at the edge. I see their reflections. They're looking at me.”
There's no sign of any children, of course, and it's clear that Kevin is suffering from some kind of hallucination. I guess fear can really make the human mind do weird things.
“I see them,” he continues, and now his voice is trembling. “There's a woman with them too. It's like they're trying to warn me not to go into the water.”
“Classic,” Chuck says with a grin. “Totally, utterly -”
Suddenly Kevin turns and splashes back out, quickly pushing past us and heading back to his pile of clothes.
“Are you chickening out?” Chuck asks. “Seriously?”
“I'm not going in there,” he replies, grabbing a towel and starting to dry his legs. “I don't care what you tell people at school, okay? I saw the ghost children and the ghost woman watching me, and I'm not going in that water, not even for all the money in the world!”
“Loser!” Chuck laughs.
“So can we go home now?” I ask, feeling relieved.
“Yeah, after I do one more thing,” Chuck says, suddenly removing his t-shirt and pants to reveal a swimming costume underneath. “Kevin might be the biggest wuss on the planet, but I'm not scared.”
“Chuck -”
Before I can finish, he splashes out into water and starts swimming, kicking up a huge spray. Stepping back, I watch as he swims toward the center of the lake, and then I turn to Kevin.
“You didn't really see anyone, did you?” I ask. “You were just kidding. Right?”
He pauses, before shaking his head.
“What exactly did you see, then?” I continue.
“There were, like, twenty or thirty of them,” he replies, and his voice is still trembling slightly. “They were just standing by the opposite shore, watching me. There was a woman with them, too. That's one of the stories people tell about this place, isn't it? I read online last night, some woman named Emily Carter is supposed to haunt the lake with her son and some other children.”
“Yeah, but...”
My voice trails off, and for a moment I can't help wondering if he really did see something.
“Hey, losers!” Chuck yells.
Turning, I see that he's at the center of the lake, splashing around like a maniac.
“You pair of chickens look so dumb from here!” he continues. “It's just a lake! I can't believe you're still scared of fairy-tales!”
I watch him splashing about for a moment longer, and then I turn back to Kevin.
“Don't worry about him,” I m
utter. “Everyone at school knows he's a blowhard and -”
“Help!” Chuck screams suddenly. “You guys! Help me!”
I turn again, and this time I see that he's splashing furiously, as if he's in trouble.
“It's got me!” he yells. “It's got my foot!”
“He's joking,” I whisper, as Kevin comes over to join me. “He's just trying to scare us. He's an idiot, and this is his idea of being funny.”
“It's wrapped around my ankle!” Chuck cries. “Dudes, it's really real! It's like a weed or something, and it's got a mind of its own and -”
Suddenly he lets out an even louder, even more shrill scream.
“There's a hand too!” he screams. “Oh my God, you guys, there's something trying to drag me down!”
“He's lying,” I tell Kevin, watching as Chuck continues to splash furiously. “You know what he's like.”
“I don't know,” Kevin replies cautiously, “he seems really -”
Before he can finish, Chuck lets out one more cry and then disappears from view, vanishing beneath the lake's surface. The water remains choppy for a moment, before slowly becoming calm again, almost as if Chuck was never there.
Kevin and I stand in silence.
“He'll come back up after a few seconds,” I say finally. “If we panic, we'll be doing exactly what he wants.”
“What if the monster of Devil's Root Lake got him?” Kevin asks.
“There's no monster.”
“But the stories -”
“Are just stories!”
“What if there's some truth to them, though? What if even a tiny part of them is true?”
I don't answer. Instead, I watch the spot where Chuck disappeared. I'm still convinced that he's playing a prank on us, but I can feel a sense of fear slowly creeping through my chest.
“Maybe he has a snorkel,” Kevin suggests, “or some kind of hidden oxygen tank.”
I wait a moment longer, but now I'm really starting to get worried.
“Okay,” I say finally, “I think we have to -”
Suddenly Chuck bursts back up, just a few meters away from us, and he cries out as he scrambles back onto dry land.
Kevin and I stand back, trying not to get splashed as he collapses at our feet. Spluttering and gasping for air, Chuck quickly gets to his feet and runs over to his clothes.
“There's something out there!” he stammers, bundling his clothes into his arms and then racing over to his bike. “I wanna go home! There's something in that lake! You guys were gonna let it drag me under and just leave me to drown!”
“So this is our fault?” I ask, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
He mumbles something about his mother, and about getting us into big trouble, before clambering onto his bike and cycling away at top speed, still wet and wearing nothing but his swimming costume. He's so frantic, he tumbles off the bike after just a few meters, and then he climbs back on before setting off once again. I watch until he disappears into the distance, and then I turn to Kevin.
“I'm getting out of here too,” he gasps, before running over to his bike.
“You don't seriously believe all this stuff, do you?” I ask.
He doesn't reply. Instead, he gets onto his bike and rides off after Chuck, and finally I'm left all alone at the edge of the lake.
Turning, I look out at the water.
I know the stories about this place. I've heard five or six different version of the local legends, and I've even read an official town leaflet titled The Horror of Devil's Root Lake, which warns about something lurking beneath the water. I've also heard people mention the ghostly woman and the ghostly kids who are said to still hang around, warning visitors not to swim in the lake. And while I don't necessarily believe everything I've heard, I reckon there might just be a spark of truth somewhere at the bottom of it all. I mean, that's how fairy-tales and urban legends get started, isn't it?
I pause for a moment, watching the calm water, waiting just in case I spot any sign of the ghosts. After a few seconds, feeling a pinprick of curiosity, I step forward.
And that's when I see them.
Reflected in the water at the far side of the lake, there are several silhouettes. Children mostly, but there's a woman too.
I immediately step back.
Now they're gone.
They weren't real. They were just a figment of my imagination. Still, I don't feel the need to try again, so instead I turn and head to my bike. It's not like I want to go swimming in the lake, anyway. The warnings are enough for me and some things are better left undisturbed. Still, as I cycle back to town, I can't help wondering what really happened out there many years ago, and why there's such a strong local legend about the horror of Devil's Root Lake.
I guess the real facts are lost to history. Beneath all the stories and urban legends and fairy-tales, I bet there's at least a grain of truth. It's probably something pretty ordinary, though. I mean, everyone knows monsters aren't real.
Also by Amy Cross
THE BODY AT AUERCLIFF
“We'll bury her so deep, even her ghost will have a mouth full of dirt!”
When Rebecca Wallace arrives at Auercliff to check on her aged aunt, she's in for a shock. Her aunt's mind is crumbling, and the old woman refuses to let Rebecca stay overnight. And just as she thinks she's starting to understand the truth, Rebecca makes a horrifying discovery in one of the house's many spare rooms.
A dead body. A woman. Old and rotten. And her aunt insists she has no idea where it came from.
The truth lies buried in the past. For generations, the occupants of Auercliff have been tormented by the repercussions of a horrific secret. And somehow everything seems to be centered upon the mausoleum in the house's ground, where every member of the family is entombed once they die.
Whose body was left to rot in one of the house's rooms? Why have successive generations of the family been plagued by a persistent scratching sound? And what really happened to Rebecca many years ago, when she found herself locked inside the Auercliff mausoleum?
The Body at Auercliff is a horror story about a family and a house, and about the refusal of the past to stay buried.
Also by Amy Cross
LAST WRONG TURN
If you're out late at night and you see her face, it's already too late.
Lost on a rural English road, Penny and her husband are involved in a sudden, violent car crash. Waking up tied to a metal table in a remote farmhouse, Penny quickly discovers that she's the latest victim of a strange, deadly family. But Penny is different to all the family's other victims, because she just happens to be eight-and-a-half months pregnant...
Fighting not only for her own life, but also for the life of her unborn child, Penny desperately tries to escape. When she comes face to face with the mysterious Enda, however, she quickly learns that getting away from the farmhouse might not be enough. Soon, Penny finds herself locked in a desperate struggle to keep her baby from becoming not just a victim of the farm, but one of its new occupants.
Last Wrong Turn is the story of a woman who desperately tries to save her child from a horrific fate. Contains adult language and scenes of violence.
Also by Amy Cross
PERFECT LITTLE MONSTERS
AND OTHER STORIES
A husband waits until his wife and children are in bed, before inviting a dangerous man into their home...
A girl keeps hold of her mother's necklace, as bloodied hands try to tear it from her grasp...
A gun jams, even as its intended victim begs the universe to let her die...
Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories is a collection of short stories by Amy Cross. Some of the stories take place in seemingly ordinary towns, whose inhabitants soon discover something truly shocking lurking beneath the veneer of peace and calm. Others show glimpses of vast, barbaric worlds where deadly forces gather to toy with humanity. All the stories in this collection peel back the face of a nightmare, revealing the horror that
awaits. And in every one of the stories, some kind of monster lurks...
Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories contains the new stories Perfect Little Monsters, I Hate You, Meat, Fifty Fifty and Stay Up Late, as well as a revised version of the previously-released story The Scream. This book contains scenes of violence, as well as strong language.
Also by Amy Cross
ANNIE'S ROOM
1945 and 2015. Seventy years apart, two girls named Annie move into the same room of the same remote house. Their stories are very different, but tragedy is about to bring them crashing together.
Annie Riley has just broken both her legs. Unable to leave bed, she's holed up in her new room and completely reliant upon her family for company. She's also the first to notice a series of strange noises in the house, but her parents and brother think she's just letting her imagination run overtime. And then, one night, dark forces start to make their presence more keenly felt, leading to a horrific discovery...
Seventy years ago, Annie Garrett lived in the same house with her parents. This Annie, however, was very different. Bitter and vindictive and hopelessly devoted to her father, she developed a passionate hatred for her mother. History records that Annie eventually disappeared while her parents were executed for her murder, but what really happened to Annie Garrett, and is her ghost still haunting the house to this day?
Annie's Room is the story of two girls whose lives just happened to be thrown together by an unlikely set of circumstances, and of a potent evil that blossomed in one soul and then threatened to consume another.
OTHER BOOKS
BY AMY CROSS INCLUDE