The salt air bit sharp against Mia’s cheeks as she pulled her jacket tighter, the hem flapping like a wounded bird. The dock creaked beneath her boots, a sound so familiar it felt like a heartbeat. She’d spent every summer here since she was six, but today the water looked different—darker, churning with something she couldn’t name. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a text from Jace: *You coming?* She didn’t answer. Instead, she knelt at the edge of the pier, fingers brushing the surface. The cold seeped into her bones, but she didn’t move. Something about this place always made her feel like a ghost, invisible and waiting.
The library smelled like old paper and mildew. Mia’s sneakers squeaked on the worn linoleum as she navigated the aisles, her breath fogging in the chill. She’d never understood why anyone would keep books in a place this cold. The librarian, Mrs. Voss, didn’t look up from her crossword puzzle. Mia’s fingers trailed over the spines of novels she’d read a dozen times, searching for the one she’d left here last week. It wasn’t there. She frowned, digging deeper, until her hand closed around a leather-bound journal, its cover cracked and stained. The name etched on the front—*Elias Rourke*—was unfamiliar. She flipped it open. The pages were filled with frantic script, dates scrawled in jagged lines. *July 12, 1997. The water’s gone still. I can’t hear them anymore.*
Jace found her slumped at a table, the journal open to a page where the ink had bled through. “What’s that?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. His voice was too loud in the silence. Mia didn’t look up. “I don’t know.” She traced the words with her thumb, feeling the grooves in the paper. “It’s not mine.” Jace sat across from her, his knee bouncing against the chair leg. “You’re gonna tell me you found this in the library?” She nodded. He leaned back, eyes narrowing. “That place hasn’t had a new book in years. You sure it’s not some kind of prank?” Mia didn’t answer. The journal felt too real, too heavy, like it had been waiting for her.
They met at the old lighthouse the next day, the structure looming like a broken tooth against the sky. Mia’s hands were raw from scraping paint off the rusted door, but she didn’t stop. Jace stood at the base, watching her. “You sure about this?” he called. She didn’t respond. The air inside was thick with dust and the scent of salt, the walls lined with faded photographs of people she didn’t recognize. At the top, she found a trapdoor hidden behind a stack of crates. It creaked open to reveal a tunnel, the stone walls slick with moisture. Jace’s flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating a series of symbols carved into the rock. Mia’s pulse quickened. These weren’t random marks—they were a map.
The tunnel led to a cavern, its ceiling lost in shadows. Water dripped from stalactites, echoing like a heartbeat. Mia stepped forward, her boots squelching in the mud. Jace followed, his breath loud in the stillness. They found the remains of a campfire, charred wood still smoldering. A journal lay open on a rock, its pages brittle with age. Mia picked it up, her fingers trembling. The handwriting was the same as the one in her journal—Elias Rourke. The entries spoke of a secret society, of rituals performed beneath the town, of a ritual that had gone wrong. *The water took them. I can’t stop it.*
They didn’t talk on the way back. The weight of the journals pressed against Mia’s backpack, each page a whisper she couldn’t ignore. That night, she sat by the window, the moon casting silver stripes across her floor. Jace was on the couch, his phone glowing in the dark. “What if it’s not a prank?” he asked suddenly. Mia didn’t look at him. “What if it is?” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re gonna dig yourself into a hole, Mia.” She didn’t answer. The water had always been a mystery to her, but now it felt like a promise.
The next morning, the town was different. The air hummed with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. Mia walked to the beach, the sand gritty under her feet. She found a boat tied to the dock, its hull weathered but intact. Jace was already there, staring at it. “You think this is real?” he asked. She didn’t know. But the journal had said *the water takes them*, and she’d never believed in ghosts. Until now.
They rowed out past the breakers, the boat rocking with each wave. The sun beat down, turning the water into a mirror. Mia felt something shift, a pull she couldn’t explain. Jace laughed, but it sounded forced. “This is insane.” She didn’t respond. The journal’s final entry had been a warning: *Don’t go back.* But the water had called to her, and she’d listened.
They found the entrance at low tide, a crack in the rocks that opened like a mouth. The water rushed in, cold and relentless. Mia stepped inside, her boots slick with seaweed. Jace followed, his flashlight flickering. The tunnel was narrower here, the walls closing in. They reached a chamber, its ceiling high enough to swallow the light. At the center was a stone altar, covered in carvings that matched the journal. Mia’s breath caught. This was it—the place where the rituals had happened.
A sound echoed through the chamber, a low hum that vibrated in her bones. Jace froze. “What was that?” Mia didn’t answer. The water had always been a mystery, but now it felt like a warning. She reached out, her fingers brushing the altar. The carvings glowed faintly, and the hum grew louder. Jace grabbed her arm. “We should go.” She nodded, but her feet wouldn’t move. The water had called to her, and she’d answered.
They ran back through the tunnel, the water surging behind them. The boat was gone, washed away by the tide. Mia’s heart pounded as she climbed the rocks, Jace beside her. The sun was setting now, casting the sky in hues of orange and red. She turned back, staring at the dark water. It had taken them, but it had also given her something—a truth she couldn’t unsee.
Back in town, the library was empty, the journal gone. Mia didn’t know if it had been a prank or something real, but the water had left its mark on her. She sat on the dock that night, watching the waves. Jace joined her, his presence a quiet comfort. “You okay?” he asked. She nodded, though she wasn’t sure. The water had always been a mystery, but now it felt like a part of her, something she’d carry forever.
