Something's moved into Challowmoore Lake and now not even the crows will drink from it. Dogs bark at the lake like it can hear them and the thing inside it waits for them to get that little bit closer. The shoreline is always a little too red, clouds of flies swarm around whatever wasn't fast enough.
The water looks fine at first, a little greyer perhaps, but if you stare for too long your reflection begins to move by itself. It tilts your head from side to side, eyes a little bigger perhaps and skin a little greyer, but if you stare for much longer your reflection begins to move closer.
We never find the people it takes, only the animals and even then we rarely find a complete corpse. We know it eats them but we think the people are still alive down there. We can hear them at night,calling for their friends and families and in the morning their footprints cover the sand,filling the space between al the dead and dying animals.
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