Blood in the Water

Muttering under his breath, Colton pushed his rowboat off the shore—into the swamp’s murky waters. He clambered into the wooden watercraft a second later, then pushed aside a tackle box as he grabbed hold of the oars. 

“Useless little fisherboy, eh?” The young man began to row, his eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that.” 

He moved towards the center of the small lake, or “forbidden marsh” as the townsfolk always called it. Dark olive-green algae clouded the surface. Colton couldn’t see a single sign of fish, but he knew that wasn’t the reason this place was so often left alone.

The boy glanced up, scanning the edge of the waterhole. Dense trees surrounded every part of it, their spindly branches creeping skywards in an endless effort to keep the wetland trapped in shadow. However, there was one tree in particular that Colton was focused on. 

The shriveled, lifeless maple leaned over the too-quiet lake, four ropes hanging from it. Each cord led from one of the tree's limbs to the water below, into which they disappeared. Colton, in preparation, had strung up these ropes no more than a half hour before. They were part of his trap—part of his chance to prove to the village that he was more than just a feeble minnow-catcher. 

For in this swamp was Shlack-Nessar, a demon whose name meant “blood in the water”. Ancient tales warned of her, as did the rumors that were whispered between travelers. Any who entered this forbidden marsh were likely never to leave, and such was a fact well known. Yet Colton was here.

The boy waited in the center of the lake, floating silently. As he sat there, he glanced over the items in his boat. He’d brought along most of his basic fishing supplies, along with a map, spear, and sharpened fillet knife.

Yes, he knew he was hugely underprepared. Yes, he knew that coming here in the first place was stupid. He was desperate to prove himself, though, and the boy no longer cared about the risks involved. Besides, he’d helped kill an alligator once; how much harder could a demon be?

A few more moments passed before Colton caught a fleeting glimpse of something as it moved beneath the surface. He sucked in an involuntary gasp, gripping the oars tightly. Then, ever so carefully, he leaned to the side of the rowboat. Colton peered into those deep waters below him. They were completely empty and undisturbed, as if nothing had even—

A subtle shifting of the boat's weight. A humid waft of air from behind. A deathly stillness settling over the already silent swamp.

Something was behind him.

Colton tensed, momentarily forgetting to breathe. Around him, he could feel its presence: an aura of venomous cruelty so strong it seemed to fill the very air. It made every last one of Colton’s instincts scream for him to grab the fillet knife and defend himself. Instead, he began to gently row in the direction of his tree.

“You know I am here, child,” A female voice whispered in his ear. “Why do you not panic?”

Colton took a deep breath, trying to hide the quivering of his hands. “Why… why should I?”

“Why? Because you, young fisherboy, are so soon to meet the watery depths of death.” Her words were soft and smooth, unnaturally so. “And a grave of tangled seaweed is not what you came wanting.”

Shlack-Nessar could have killed Colton the moment he stepped off the land, and he knew it. The demon was toying with him. She enjoyed—according to legend—tormenting her prey, and this eagerness to do so was a weakness that just might buy the boy enough time. Or so he hoped.

“Then what did I come wanting?” Colton asked, his gaze fixed ahead. He could feel her humid breath on his neck, hinting at just how horrifically close she was to him. 

“Something you value more than your life, it seems,” She murmured. “Such foolishness. Quite wonderful, really.”

Cold, wet fingers suddenly curled over his shoulder, and Colton barely managed to suppress a scream. The rowboat was approaching the maple tree, but the seconds left were also running out, and fast. 

“You… you didn’t answer the question,” The young man said.

“Indeed. What did you come wanting? Why don’t you tell?”

Colton paled, but he was desperate for any chance to stall, “I… I was tired of being a nobody.”

“Oh? And taking a trek through this rot-filled marsh will make you a somebody?” He could hear the sneer in her voice.

“No. But returning successful would.”

The demon’s hold on his shoulder began to slowly tighten. “Ah. Well, it’s so sad that you won’t be returning.”

They passed into the shadow of the leaning maple tree, and Colton gave a subtle smile. Surrounding the rowboat, three of the ropes hung, each spread just far away enough to remain somewhat inconspicuous. The fourth one, however, was a trout’s length closer than the others. It was this one that was key.

Without any sort of warning, the fisherboy dropped the two oars, snatched up his knife, and wrenched himself out from Shlack-Nessar’s grip. Before the demon could respond, Colton leapt off of the boat, landing in the murky lake with a splash. Luckily, it was only waist-deep this close to the shore.

Shlack-Nessar gave a heartless laugh. “The waters are not your refuge, child.”

“I know,” Colton said, raising his blade to that nearest rope. “They’re yours.”

He cut the line, and the other three ropes began to immediately rise. A huge fishing net rose up from below the surface, seizing the entire rowboat as it went. And in that boat, unable to get out in time, was the demon.

Colton only caught a glimpse of the being, but what he saw was enough to haunt a lifetime’s worth of nightmares. She had tangled hair the color of rotting kelp; arms much too long to be human; skin unnaturally pale, like mildew growing over sun-bleached bones.

From the suspended net, the demon chuckled. “Ah. We see now, what you planned. Stupid boy. You wish to return as someone respected—actions like these seldom lead to such results.”

Having fallen from the boat, the spear floated around aimlessly. Colton lifted the slippery weapon from the water, feeling the weight of it in his hands.

“I’m aware,” The young man said, looking up. “But I was willing to take that chance.” 

“A sealed fate is not a chance,” She whispered. “And yet you still come, thinking that you’ll somehow leave this swamp a hero.”

“I will!” He shouted, then plunged the spear into the net. 

The creature within gasped sharply, then let out a hideous cackle. “See, but my sisters disagree.”

Colton blinked, the spear slipping from his grasp. A strange ink-like liquid began to trickle down from the net to the waters below. Slowly, as if in a daze, Colton’s eyes followed this falling stream. When they reached the bottom, time seemed to pause for a dreadful eternity.

All around him, they watched—pale faces beneath the surface, barely visible and yet all so terrifyingly clear. Each was smiling up at him with dark eyes that had neither pupil nor iris, simply a deep and horrifying blackness.

Above, the demon continued speaking, somehow unfazed by her wound, “You should have listened to the warnings, young fisherboy. This marsh is no place to try and prove your worth. Here, there is only Shlack-Nessar. Here, there is only blood in the water.”