Grandpa’s Lake
Standing here in front of Grandpa’s house I couldn't help but feel sad. His death had been sudden with him drowning while out fishing in his lake, and I just couldn’t make sense of it. He was an expert fisherman, for him to just drown didn’t make sense to me. With the key in hand, I unlock the door and step into the house.
Stepping inside I’m surrounded by an oppressive emptiness, as if the house itself felt lonely. All of his stuff was exactly where it had been when I was here last week, and same as it had been all my life whenever I would come visit. His piano stood closed, its shiny surface displaying the care my grandfather gave it. His recliner was in the relaxed position, in position to comfort someone who would never come back. As I entered grandpa’s room it was a mess of papers thrown around and an unkept bed, which stood in stark contrast to the rest of the house I had been in this whole time.
It was obvious Grandpa had been disturbed during his last weeks of life, as all of these papers scattered around his room had a singular drawing on them, repeated over and over. The best way I can describe it is that it’s a weird horse looking creature with the head of a shark, but also as I looked at the drawing more it seemed to morph in front of my eyes, changing from a horse like creature to more of a fish with the head of a dog, or maybe a bird with the head of a snake. After a while of looking at the drawing I wasn’t sure what I was looking at anymore, distracted instead by the vibrant lights coming from outside the house.
As I stood in front of the lake I could see the striking amounts of color shining beneath its surface, pulsating as it alternated between various shades of color. The longer I stood there the more I felt it, this tiny voice in the back of my head almost unintelligible from my subconscious thoughts:
It sure would feel nice going in for a swim.
Standing there I began to move into the water, which is when I heard an all too familiar voice call to me from further in:
“Stop! Don’t come any closer.”
The warning came from in front of me, and as I stood up I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: it was my grandfather, the water standing at his chest as he waved his arms about wildly.
“You have to get out of the water before it’s too late.” He shouted, desperation in his voice.
“G-Grandpa? What are you doing here? I thought you died.”
“Son, you don’t understand. You have to get out of here NOW.”
He was right. I didn't understand, I couldn’t. He was supposed to be dead, wasn’t he?
“Grandpa, how are you alive?”
“I’m not. You have to get out before it takes over.”
That last sentence came out more as a gurgle as Grandpa began to melt in front of me, his skin slowly losing its form and falling like wax off of a melting candle. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening before his form got replaced with that of a grotesque humanoid creature, its black skin contrasting the bright stripes of iridescent light that scarred its body.
“What the hell…” I uttered, fear paralyzing me in place. That is until I heard it speak in my grandpa’s voice:
“Luke my son… come here, join me. Join us. It’s beautiful here.”
—------------
E- book rework:
Standing in front of Grandpa’s house again, I felt a heaviness I hadn’t expected. It had been almost three weeks since the funeral, and it still did not sit right with me. Grandpa was one of the best fishermen I knew, and him drowning in the lake he’s fished at for over twenty years just doesn’t make sense to me.
Nothing about his death made sense.
After the will was read, I was named the sole inheritor. The house, the land, and the lake now belonged to me. Part of me wondered if it was a gift or a burden.
Walking into the house there was an air of emptiness, like the house itself was mourning Grandpa’s passing. Everything was untouched, with Grandpa’s recliner slightly leaned back as it always was whenever I would come visit him as a kid.
His bedroom however, was different. Papers were scattered everywhere, occasionally covered by a half thrown blanket that should have been on its bed. The drawers were left open, clothes hanging halfway out. Grandpa was meticulous. Seeing the room like this felt like finding a diary filled with frantic, panicked handwriting.
I knelt down and picked up one of the papers, its surface covered with a rough sketch of what I thought was a horse. However, when I took a better look at the drawing the less it looked like any creature I’d seen before. It kept changing on me, its form changing fluidly from a horse dog to a fish bird and all sorts of blends of different animals, pieces frankenstein’d together unable to converge their bodies in a way that made sense.
From outside a powerful light shone, its changing colors splashing against the walls of the house.
As I made my way outside my eyes were immediately locked on to the lake, its surface shimmering with light. The longer I looked the harder it was to understand what exactly I was looking at… the light seemed to pulsate in a rhythm while also splintering all over and converging into a singular point moments later, so confusing but so beautiful and pure.
It sure would be nice to go for a swim.
I’m not really sure when my body began moving, but just as I was about to make contact with the water—
“STOP! LUKE GET AWAY!”
The warning came from in front of me, and as I stood up I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: it was my grandfather, the water standing at his chest as he waved his arms about wildly.
“You have to get out of the water before it’s too late.” He shouted, desperation in his voice.
“G-Grandpa?” I croaked. “What are you doing here? I thought you died.”
“Son, you don’t understand. You have to get out of here NOW.”
He was right. I didn't understand, I couldn’t. He was supposed to be dead, wasn’t he?
“Grandpa, how are you alive?”
Grandpa stared at me for a long moment after I asked that, the silence suffocating me as I waited for a response.
“I’m not. You have to get out before it takes over.”
That last sentence came out more as a gurgle as Grandpa began to melt in front of me, his skin slowly losing its form and falling like wax off of a melting candle. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening before Grandpa’s body began to morph, his frame bulging and bending in unnatural ways.
“What the hell…” I said, wanting to get the hell out of there but fear locked me in place. With a crackle and a lot of strain the thing that was my Grandpa spoke to me, its voice unaffected by the horrific metamorphosis of his body.
“Luke my son… come here, join me. Let the light consume you.”