Deep within the oldest part of the forest, where the trees grow so tall they swallow the sky, there lies a lake so still it looks like a mirror forgotten by time.
The villagers call it Stillwater.
They say the water is deeper than it should be.
They say the forest goes quiet when you get too close.
And they say if you listen carefully at dusk… you can hear singing.
Long ago, before fear settled over the lake like morning mist, there lived a girl whose beauty was spoken of in whispers. Her hair flowed like dark water, her skin pale as moonlight, and her voice carried the softness of wind through leaves.
She loved to dance by the lake’s edge, barefoot on the cool earth, singing songs that made even the forest lean closer to listen.
One summer evening, a traveler wandered into the forest, a young man with warm eyes and a smile that felt like sunlight. He heard her song first, then saw her dancing among the fireflies.
He fell in love instantly.
Or so he said.
They met in secret by the water night after night, sharing laughter, promises, and tender moments beneath the silver glow of the moon. She believed every word he spoke, every vow whispered against her hair.
Until one night… the promises changed.
The moon hid behind clouds as they stood at the water’s edge. His smile was different, tight, nervous. Before she could ask why, his hands pushed hard against her shoulders.
The cold swallowed her scream.
She sank beneath the surface, watching the rippling silhouette of the man she loved grow smaller as darkness closed around her.
And the lake kept her.
Now, when the mist rolls across Stillwater, a figure can sometimes be seen standing just beneath the surface, a beautiful maiden with hollow, searching eyes.
She still sings.
Her voice drifts through the trees, sweet and sorrowful, calling softly to those who wander too close. Men who hear her song feel an ache in their chest, a pull they cannot resist.
They follow the sound to the shore, where she rises from the water like a dream made real, smiling, graceful, impossibly beautiful.
She dances with them at the water’s edge, her laughter light as falling petals.
And when they step closer…
The lake closes over their heads.
Some say she mistakes them for the one she loved.
Others say she knows they are not him, but takes them anyway to quiet the storm of anger and heartbreak that never fades.
No matter the hour, dawn, noon, twilight, or midnight, the lake is never truly safe.
Because she cannot leave its waters.
She can only wait.
Still searching every face, every pair of eyes, hoping one day the man who betrayed her will return… so she can finally stop singing.
Or finally pull him under.
And on quiet nights, when the forest holds its breath, her voice still drifts across the water, beautiful, aching, and filled with a love that turned into something far more dangerous.
✧ ✧ ✧
