Their voices carry along the current, whispering and wheedling through the old quarters of the village while everyone hurriedly stuffed cotton in their ears and tried to avoid being riverside. The bridge was completely out of the question and barred on either side with thick iron gates, as if the voices in the water followed mortal superstitions.
Hushed rumours said that if you stared down into the river while the voices were awake you'd see the face of your true love. They also said you'd see the face you had in your past life, the face of the person who killed or will kill you and all of these faces could very well be the same. Rivers are tricky like that.
Anyone with an ounce of sense stayed clear of the river entirely when the voices were known to be awake but there was always at least one death every time. Another bloated body found stuck under the bridge, another family left mourning, another drenched ghost to walk along the river, staring down and smiling.
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