There's a section of the pier that's closed off the the public and apparently owned by some rich nameless man who built a small boathouse on "his" part of the pier. It looked quite nice from the public side, all vintage wood fronting over a stone base that lead all the way down to the bottom of the lake and from the keyhole you could see an antiquated little rowboat inside with fishing equipment along the walls.
As far as I knew nobody had thought to try and get into the boathouse from the lake-side to have a nose about the place and maybe find out who the mystery boat-owner was and why he'd never been seen anywhere apart from a brief newspaper article detailing the day he'd finished building it. There was no photo of him, just the name Lionel Spenceworth III which was enough to assume he was far richer than anyone in the surrounding towns.
I guessed that the potential trespass lawsuit from the aforementioned rich person was hat put people off going into the open-front boathouse but now I know a little different. Now I know that when he built the boathouse down to the lake, he built an entire house down to the lake. That and he never left it.
It's just not the sort of thing you expect when you go "night fishing" (AKA, trespassing) and certainly not the sort of thing you want to stumble across, especially given that I still have no idea just what else he's been keeping down there aside from the little that I saw.
I should probably explain that I found the door as a trapdoor and thought maybe he'd hidden documents or there was something secret down there which had been enough to convince me to have a closer look. I hadn't expected a metal ladder leading down a concrete corridor that ended in a submarine-like-water-tight door.
Through the unlocked door (I can only assume he hadn't ever expected intruders) I found myself in some kind of coatroom/wardrobe/science gear room that held a variety of men's clothing, labcoats and even a few radiation suits like you'd see in the movies. There was one empty hanger with the labcoats which should have been the giveaway that Spenceworth was still there but it just didn't click with me for some reason.
What did click was something loud, dolphin-like and much further down the hallway leading from the walk-in wardrobe. I followed it without even thinking about it, only growing worried when the flooring changed from concrete to a metal grating with the lake's murky blue waters swirling underneath it and soaking through my trainers.
Spenceworth snuck up on me before I could even reach the first of his self-proclaimed "multitude of research chambers". He looked so plain and unassuming, just a little middle aged man in a stained labcoat who seemed very worried to have company but excited to talk about his work, even taking me around a few of the "safer" rooms.
The first few were just large fish tanks studying the local wildlife and encouraging breeding rates but the next three or so were... unique to say the least. They were so much larger than anything else I'd seen to far and sat in giant vats that were at floor level for us but actually situated deep beneath the lake-bed.
One creature looked just like a twenty foot mass of seaweed until it opened its mouth, apparently threatened by the presence of a stranger and somehow able to tell I was a stranger. Thankfully we moved on before it decided it was willing to do anything about me. The next vat held about fifty or so humanoid oysters who clung to the vat's edged and peered up at us (the numbers would settle for the next eight years once their eggs had hatched). Their skin reminded me of cooked scallops and their eyes looked like pearls - apparently they formed eyes from a deliberately induced infection beneath the skin.
I had no idea that creatures like that existed he said the huge vats that were all interconnected through the very walkways we were standing on, allowing fish to pass through and breed safely thereby giving everything a steady supply of food. He didn't want to talk about whatever he'd deemed too unsafe for a mere civilian to know but when the clicking began to develop into croaking he literally shoved me out of the water-tight door and told me to never go neat the lake again.
He said "It" now knew my scent.
As far as I knew nobody had thought to try and get into the boathouse from the lake-side to have a nose about the place and maybe find out who the mystery boat-owner was and why he'd never been seen anywhere apart from a brief newspaper article detailing the day he'd finished building it. There was no photo of him, just the name Lionel Spenceworth III which was enough to assume he was far richer than anyone in the surrounding towns.
I guessed that the potential trespass lawsuit from the aforementioned rich person was hat put people off going into the open-front boathouse but now I know a little different. Now I know that when he built the boathouse down to the lake, he built an entire house down to the lake. That and he never left it.
It's just not the sort of thing you expect when you go "night fishing" (AKA, trespassing) and certainly not the sort of thing you want to stumble across, especially given that I still have no idea just what else he's been keeping down there aside from the little that I saw.
I should probably explain that I found the door as a trapdoor and thought maybe he'd hidden documents or there was something secret down there which had been enough to convince me to have a closer look. I hadn't expected a metal ladder leading down a concrete corridor that ended in a submarine-like-water-tight door.
Through the unlocked door (I can only assume he hadn't ever expected intruders) I found myself in some kind of coatroom/wardrobe/science gear room that held a variety of men's clothing, labcoats and even a few radiation suits like you'd see in the movies. There was one empty hanger with the labcoats which should have been the giveaway that Spenceworth was still there but it just didn't click with me for some reason.
What did click was something loud, dolphin-like and much further down the hallway leading from the walk-in wardrobe. I followed it without even thinking about it, only growing worried when the flooring changed from concrete to a metal grating with the lake's murky blue waters swirling underneath it and soaking through my trainers.
Spenceworth snuck up on me before I could even reach the first of his self-proclaimed "multitude of research chambers". He looked so plain and unassuming, just a little middle aged man in a stained labcoat who seemed very worried to have company but excited to talk about his work, even taking me around a few of the "safer" rooms.
The first few were just large fish tanks studying the local wildlife and encouraging breeding rates but the next three or so were... unique to say the least. They were so much larger than anything else I'd seen to far and sat in giant vats that were at floor level for us but actually situated deep beneath the lake-bed.
One creature looked just like a twenty foot mass of seaweed until it opened its mouth, apparently threatened by the presence of a stranger and somehow able to tell I was a stranger. Thankfully we moved on before it decided it was willing to do anything about me. The next vat held about fifty or so humanoid oysters who clung to the vat's edged and peered up at us (the numbers would settle for the next eight years once their eggs had hatched). Their skin reminded me of cooked scallops and their eyes looked like pearls - apparently they formed eyes from a deliberately induced infection beneath the skin.
I had no idea that creatures like that existed he said the huge vats that were all interconnected through the very walkways we were standing on, allowing fish to pass through and breed safely thereby giving everything a steady supply of food. He didn't want to talk about whatever he'd deemed too unsafe for a mere civilian to know but when the clicking began to develop into croaking he literally shoved me out of the water-tight door and told me to never go neat the lake again.
He said "It" now knew my scent.
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