Rusty Lake Paradise

Chapter 6 - Corrupted Soul

Pitcher in hand, I made my way to the water pump. Truth be told, I could have used a glass of water as well. I lifted the handle, and out poured the deep blood-red liquid. Was it blood? Was it water? I didn't want to taste to find out. On my way back to the house, I noticed the gate to the other side of the beach.

The forest floor, sheltered by the trees' canopies, had already started off dim; however, when I opened the gate, all the limited light in the forest seemed to melt away, replaced by thick fog and a heavy darkness.

I was not alone.

Ahead of me stood a tall, black figure, blacker than the shadows that surrounded it. It was almost humanoid, except for its eyes. I squinted, almost blinded by their white glow. They were larger than a person's eyes should be, but I knew that whatever it was could see everything. I felt like it could see into my mind and soul, like it was examining everything to the core under its gaze.

I barely noticed the sound of breaking glass as the pitcher fell from my frozen hands. Then the figure began to speak.

I gasped and clamped my hands over my ears. Its language was nothing I had ever heard before - it was metallic, loud, high-pitched, and jumbled. If swords could scream, it would be less ghastly than this. Somehow I understood what it was saying, as if it had a direct link to my brain.

It slowly lifted an arm to point at me. "Bring my memories to the lake, and the lake will stop bleeding."

As suddenly as it had appeared, so too, it vanished. Light slowly seeped back into the forest, and from a distance, I could hear the sounds of life returning - birds chirping, insects buzzing, leaves blowing in the breeze.

Stumbling, terrified, I followed the path to the lake, almost as if something else were controlling my movements. There was a round stone building, old and decaying, on the shore. Its white roof gleamed in the sun, and the owl statue on top of the dome had the same piercing black eyes as the statue in front of my father's hovel.

It had a single empty door frame and window. They goaded me, mocked me, as I continued to the water. What are you afraid of? they asked. Don't you remember what you came here for? What you were born to become?

As I neared the vividly red puddle by the shore, bubbles floated to the surface - and that wasn't all. A pine coffin rose from the depths to where the silt met the gently lapping lake. Pushing away thoughts of what else could be lurking below, I stepped out and reached to touch the top of the wooden box. It had a simple cross carved into it, as well as the name Caroline Eilander. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. My mother's coffin. Something compelled me to lift the lid. Nausea turned my stomach, and my mouth went dry - no, no, I don't want to see her - but it felt like my body was no longer in my control. Despite my internal resistance, my trembling hands began to pry the coffin open. With a loud crack, the lid released its grip on the coffin's body.

I sighed in relief and closed my eyes. Her remains were not in the coffin. Instead, the coffin was almost completely empty, though filled with blood. There were etchings on the inside of the coffin, as well. Had she carved these images? I shuddered to imagine my mother buried alive, clawing at the walls. I didn't recognize the symbols. A triangle with a line through it, a circle with a dot in the center, a square with two lines creating a V in the center. What did they mean?

A small black cube rested in the bottom. I reached out for it, but before I could touch it, it levitated and hovered above the coffin. As soon as it was level with my eyes, I was overcome by a vision.

In front of me, surrounding the coffin, were five figures. A man on the left in a boar mask, a woman in a pheasant mask, a man in a rabbit mask, and a woman in a pigeon mask stood silently and watched as the central figure, a man in white robes and a deer mask, held the black cube. Their eyes were dark; I could not tell if they were looking at me or if they were even truly alive. They were motionless as the man in the deer mask began to speak.

"Please take our sacrifice and enlighten us!"

As he spoke, the cube appeared to disintegrate, black vapors rising into the air.

Then as suddenly as the vision had started, it was over.

My eyes opened to see the black cube fall back into the coffin, where it landed with a heavy clunk, like it was made of metal. I picked it up, surprised to feel that it was almost weightless.

I made my way back to the temple. The temple had only a single feature inside - a well in the center of the small room. The walls and the well were made of a white, dusty stone. The well featured a painting of Paradise. The mountains and lake were the backdrop to a meadow lined with pine trees - all familiar and true to its source. However, this painting showed a variety of strange additions: a cow on its side, two enormous flying insects, frogs, a red river, and two odd figures, one running and one sitting down. The ten plagues.

Above the well hung a golden fixture of a winged cube. I glanced down into the bloody well before reaching up to open the golden cube. I placed the black cube inside - a perfect fit - and the fixture descended into the well. A bright light filled the building, and when the light faded and my eyes readjusted to the dimness of the temple, I noticed that the red river had disappeared from the painting.