It was almost midnight when I went swimming in the old lake behind our village. Everyone warned me never to enter the water after dark, but I thought those stories were just superstition.
The lake was strangely silent.
I swam toward the center when suddenly something touched my ankle.
I looked down.
Nothing.
Then another hand grabbed my leg.
I tried to pull away, but the grip became stronger. Within seconds, I was dragged underwater.
I opened my eyes.
The water was dark, but I could see dozens of pale hands reaching toward me from below.
I kicked desperately and somehow broke free.
Just as I reached the surface, I heard a whisper directly beside my ear.
“Don’t leave us.”
I swam toward the shore as fast as possible.
When I finally climbed out, I collapsed on the muddy ground.
Then I noticed something terrifying.
Wet footprints surrounded me.
They weren’t mine.
There were dozens of them, leading from the lake toward my house.
I ran home and locked the door.
At exactly 3:00 AM, someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Then a familiar voice whispered from outside.
“You forgot to bring us back.”
I looked through the window.
Nobody was there.
But beneath the door, several wet hands slowly appeared.
And began crawling inside.
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