I have written this short story to start us off... And ask if you have a story to share, to add it into the comments section in order to entertain the and amuse us....
It was Halloween night, and the mist rolled over Lake Zurich like a thick ghostly veil. Marcus, a seasoned swimmer who often enjoyed the lake’s waters, couldn’t resist the challenge of a nighttime dip.
He thought the idea of swimming under the moonlight seemed thrilling, even a little rebellious especially at Halloween.
'This is so cool and nothing will happen to me, I've swam here on hundreds of occasions with nothing but a swallow of water going the wrong way' he chuckled to himself as he proceeded to cycle to the vast body of water.
The lake was empty, its usual charm replaced with an eerie stillness, as the lights of Zurich twinkled far in the distant shore. An eerie mist rolled over the bank of the lake and lay on the surface like a dense cloud, sitting as a barrier to the world.
This did not worry Marcus, in fact it excited him more, he wanted the lake to himself that night.
The full moon yielded plenty of light, reflecting beautifully off the water like a highway between the fog bank and the opposing shore line.
Marcus slipped into the cold dark water, feeling the chill rush over his skin. He was treading swiftly deeper in the water until he was deep enough to dive into its cooling embrace.
He now started to swim, with strong, rhythmic strokes, pushing through the fog that thickened around him.
The town’s sounds grew muffled, the silence broken only by the gentle splashing of water against his body.
As he swam farther out, he felt an odd sense of being watched—a prickle at the back of his neck that made him glance over his shoulder. But the lake was empty, save for the thick, drifting mist.
Halfway through his swim, Marcus noticed a shadow beneath him in the water, a dark shape that seemed to mirror his movements. He brushed it off as a trick of the moonlight or the depths below, focusing instead on keeping warm in the frigid water. But the shadow grew more defined with each stroke, taking on a form he couldn’t quite place—long and sinewy, with arms that seemed to reach toward him, trying to touch him, grab at him but always just falling short.
Suddenly, he felt something cold and slimy graze his leg, like fingers trying to find a grip. Marcus yanked his leg away, his heart pounding now, but when he looked down, the shadow was gone.
He laughed nervously, trying to convince himself it was just his imagination. Yet, as he turned back towards shore, he found that the mist had thickened, swallowing up the lights and the sounds of Zurich. It was as though the lake had closed in around him.
Marcus increased his pace, his breaths coming faster, leaving clouds of steam in the chilled air. But the water seemed to thicken, dragging against him like syrup. The shadow returned, and this time, it wasn’t alone. Beneath the surface, he saw faces—pale and distorted, with empty eye sockets that stared right through him. Their mouths gaped open, as if gasping for air or whispering secrets the lake had swallowed long ago. He could hear faint echoes of laughter and sobbing, rising up from the depths, blending with the rhythmic slap of water against his ears.
Panicked, Marcus tried to swim faster, but the plethora of hands reached up from the water, translucent and skeletal, wrapping around his ankles and pulling him down. He fought them off, his kicks frantic and wild, sending splashes high into the air. Yet, for every stroke he made towards the surface, the lake seemed to pull him deeper. The faces circled him, their expressions shifting from sorrowful to vengeful, their whispers turning into a chilling chant.
“The drowned ones... the forgotten... come join us...”
With one final, desperate effort, Marcus broke through the grip of the spectral hands and surged to the surface, gasping for breath. He swam towards the faint lights of the shore, arms burning and lungs aching, but the water seemed to stretch endlessly around him. Just as he thought he’d be pulled under for the last time, the mist parted, revealing the shoreline only a few meters away.
He staggered out of the water, collapsing on the cold stones of the shore, coughing up the lake’s bitter taste. His body trembled from the cold and terror, but he was alive. As he turned back to the water, he saw the mist curling back over the lake, the faces fading beneath the rippling surface. But before they disappeared entirely, one figure lingered—a woman with long, dripping hair, her face as pale as the moon above. She raised a finger to her lips, as if to shush him, before sinking back into the darkness.
Marcus never swam in Lake Zurich again. But every Halloween night, as the fog rolls over the water, he can hear them whispering from the depths—voices of those who never made it back to shore, calling to anyone brave or foolish enough to swim among them. Marcus knows that one day, the lake might call his name again.
