The wind seems to blow stronger as you walk down the deserted street towards the lake. The wind brings with it the sounds of water lapping against rocks and the creaking of boats at dock. On other nights these may have been pleasant soothing sounds to accompany your evening swim, but tonight they bring a dark foreboding.
As you approach the lake, the trees give way to a rocky lakeshore. At the edge of the lake is a dock with a couple small boats, and a pier stretching onto the water.
You walk onto the gently rocking pier to better observe your surroundings. Nothing has changed about the night’s oppressive darkness—looking back towards the forest you can only see the occasional light from some home or streetlight flicker through the trees. You can see the canoe and paddle boat that usually grace the dock, but there is only an empty spot where the row boat should be.
Quickly you turn around to look out over the black waters of the lake. Some way out you can see what looks like a pair of figures, the larger one is holding onto the smaller with one hand while something in their other reflects the intermittent starlight.
Your heart starts to pound in panic, you run to the end of the pier.