I knew Melantha existed, because I had heard the stories. Nobody ventured into the woods once the sunlight was no longer there. Those who had, had never come back. The ones who had been brave enough to go there, while the sun was up, had never gone back in.

The call of an underwater being lures sailors to the deep ends of the sea. The cycle keeps on repeating itself, as they ensure that it never stops.

There was something, however, that was telling him death wouldn’t be the worst fate in that lake. The light of it all, the eeriness that place held, it was strange. Hostage to his own confusion, he glanced around. The flapping had to come from someplace near, he could hear it as if it were right beside him.