The Sinking House
Colt was only thirteen years old when he rowed as fast as he could away from Benji and Caleb, the most menacing boys in Troop 0172. It was the dead of night and only the faint orange moonlight lit the narrow path for Colt’s tiny canoe, which was starting to overflow. Benji and Caleb, whose kayak was much bigger and rowing skills were far superior, were gaining on him, shouting from less than fifty away. “Give up, f*ggot!” Benji hollered, his ugly words bouncing off the tide. “Just give up!” Caleb followed, his voice slightly straining. When Colt was sure he reached the center of Gardner Lake, he stopped rowing and let go of his oars, raising both hands in the air. The kayak approached, practically bumping the canoe, and the boys laughed maniacally. Clad in camo shorts, Benji tossed a can of Miller Light at Colt, which he dodged easily. Caleb bit his lip as Colt crossed his arms, waiting for whatever the boys had in store. “I should kill you right here!” Benji spat into the water, clenching his fists. “I will slice you like the fruit you are.” Colt sighed as Benji drew a pocket knife from his shorts. He was ready for this confrontation, even though he had no idea how to fight. Since last summer, Colt had been running from the rumors, running from all the ugly words about him being “different” and “better off dead.” He was done running from the truth. “So do it,” Colt said coldly. “Slice me like the fruit I am. The thing is…you’ll have to slice Caleb after you’re done with me.” “Colt, don’t…” Caleb uttered, his lost blue eyes locked helplessly on his. Before they could move, they heard a sound from underneath the water, an odd sound that stopped them in their tracks. It sounded like music from a piano, an old piano like the one that sat in his grandparents’ living room. The notes sounded tinny and creaky like they belonged in an old saloon. “What the hell is that?!” Benji snapped, as the notes grew increasingly louder. “It sounds like “Swanee River,” Caleb murmured. As Benji shot him a wide-eyed glance, mouthing the words “What the fuck,” he quickly corrected himself. “Or something…I don’t know!” The tinny, creaky notes grew increasingly louder. The waves collapsed within themselves like water at the edge of a fall, cascading down into a dark abyss. They desperately tried to paddle backward, but the violent current sucked them down into the abyss. Colt couldn’t scream as his lungs started to fill with water. He held his breath, attempting to swim to the surface, but the downward current proved much too strong. Benji and Caleb must have sunk far beneath him as he could only see the lake’s murky water from all directions. Just when Colt thought he couldn’t sink any deeper, his body smacked something hollow. For a moment, everything went dark. When Colt opened his eyes, he found his body strewn out on an oak staircase, water rapidly entering his airways. He willed himself to hold his breath for just a little bit longer as pieces of a brick or cavity wall penetrated the stairs above him. How long could he realistically hold his breath? Last summer, his older sister Nikki timed him for two minutes and complimented his lung capacity or maybe it was ninety seconds. He wasn’t sure and wasn’t about to find out. Colt mustered the strength to propel his body upward. His entire body ached as he squeezed his arms behind his ears and pointed his feet together, kicking them like a dolphin’s fin. Years later, he would be grateful for being the only kid in his friend group to make it to advanced-level swim lessons. As Colt began to kick, he saw a shadow looming on the cavity wall, slowly creeping into focus. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a young boy floating in the entryway. He could only discern the boy’s blonde hair and short stature. Turning his head, he realized the image of the boy belonged to a large portrait, decaying on the wall of the house. Something was wrong though, terribly wrong. As Colt propelled his body toward the surface, the cavity walls still surrounded him. The oak staircase stretched longer than it first appeared, now winding into the depths of the waters. The walls were lined with black and white portraits of men, women, and children. The portraits numbered in the dozens, several dozens even. Their faces were warped and pixelated. Some of their faces were devoid of expression altogether. Colt knew he was inside an old colonial house, but why was it underneath the water? Why did it seem so massive? Before he could comprehend these questions, the neverending wall of portraits sank rapidly beneath him along with the winding staircase. He grew dizzy watching the walls zoom past him and the stairs twist into a dark oblivion. He couldn’t help but notice the faces in those warped and pixelated portraits were now visible but looked like decomposing corpses. Nauseous and losing consciousness, Colt swam as rapidly as he could to the surface. Only mere seconds passed before he popped his head above the water, taking long, gasping breaths. He heard voices but the voices were muffled as he struggled to breathe normally. Something was wrong again. Benji and Caleb were back in their kayaks and looked completely dry. There was another boat next to theirs, Scoutmaster Jeff’s black-and-white motorized fishing boat. From their boats, the three of them stared at Colt, not in a menacing way, but with looks of genuine concern. Scoutmaster Jeff extended his long, hairy arm and pulled Colt into the boat. There was something about the scoutmaster’s smile that felt “off” to Colt, especially at this moment when his look of concern changed to a warm glance with a sparkly white smile. Everyone else was charmed by this blond-haired, blue-eyed “man of god” but he saw it for what it was. “My goodness, Colt!” Scoutmaster Jeff exclaimed, throwing a towel around him and helping him onto the vinyl passenger bench. “We were so worried about you.” “What?” “Yeah, man,” Benji said, still with suspiciously watery eyes. “When you came out here on your own, we were so worried.” “Wait, what? You guys chased me out here.” Colt struggled to find his wording as they stared at him. Caleb and Benji climbed from their boat to the scoutmaster’s and put an arm around Colt’s shoulder, forcing a seat next to him. “What the hell? Don’t touch me.” “That’s no way to talk to friends!” Scoutmaster Jeff shook his head and sighed. “I know that you’ve been through a lot but these boys saved your life. “What were you doing out here?” “They were chasing me…” he said even softer. “And you guys were with me. We were all sinking. How was your boat-? How are you still dr-?” “Whoa, whoa,” Caleb said, throwing his hands up. “The only reason it looked like we were chasing you is because you took off in the middle of the night.” “Yeah, dude,” Benji chimed in. “By the time we got here, you dove into the water.” “It’s a good thing they came back and told me,” the scoutmaster said, placing a third unwanted hand on him. “You were out here for a long time. We split up to search for you. What were you looking for?” “What the actual fuck…” Colt mumbled. “You guys were drowning with me and then you were gone. I was in this old house and…” The threesome stared at him with deep puzzlement. Colt wanted to shout or throw punches at them but something held him back. He knew it wouldn’t be any good. Scoutmaster Jeff laughed heartily. “Okay! I think I know why you came out here. Benji, Caleb, I’m not sure if you know this legend, but Colt can tell you about the sinking house.” “The what?” “Don’t be modest now. Colt, you’re a real history buff like me. See boys, sometime in the late 1800s, a family tried to push their house across the lake when it froze over during the winter. It sounds crazy, but they thought they could do it and had the townspeople help push the house on skis. It was a monumental task, of course, so the family and town took a day’s break. The next day, the house started sinking.” “What?” Colt said again in absolute bewilderment. “I guess that makes sense now. I mean, I saw the staircase and portraits and…” Colt’s words faded into another hearty laugh from the scoutmaster. “You have an active imagination. The house sank over a hundred years ago! Even when I was a boy, divers had taken most of the valuables from the house. You wouldn’t have seen any portraits.” “What? But I did and I heard piano music.” This time, all three of them laughed heartily. Scoutmaster Jeff patted his back once more, which caused Colt to squirm. “Looks like someone’s bought this particular legend hook, line, and sinker.” As the threesome droned on about the odd legend, Colt heard the tinny, creaky notes from beneath the waves. Colt shivered and Caleb bit his lip. They exchanged glances for a quick second. Colt furled his brow, which caused Caleb to gulp before turning back to the scoutmaster. After the conversation ended, Colt and Benji climbed back into their boat, which the scoutmaster had tethered by rope to his. He tethered Colt’s too, which had a small hole in the stern. For the first few minutes, as the boats glided across the waves, the lake sounded peaceful. When they neared the shore, however, the notes of “Swanee River” played again, this time increasing in volume. The scoutmaster and Benji were blissfully unaware of that awful song. Then again, maybe they were being purposely deceptive. He was too tired to tell but knew that Caleb heard the notes when he caught sight of his trembling lower lip. After they reached the shore, Scoutmaster Jeff and the boys moored their boats to the wooden dock and attempted to lure Colt back to the campground. Colt insisted he needed some time alone. Reluctantly, they headed back to the site, which was still lively with activity. Colt stayed on the dock, admiring the orange moonlight and the way it illuminated the lake. He would often sneak out to the docks when the boys told campfire stories or played pranks on each other. On any other night, he would have felt at peace. Tonight, he couldn’t help waiting in nervous anticipation for the eerie piano music to return. Tonight, he couldn’t help waiting for Benji and Caleb to “get” him when he least expected it. On the other hand, they might just keep up the charade of claiming Colt dreamt of being chased, just like he dreamt of the sinking house. “Hey, bud.” Colt groaned as he heard his tentmate Jordan step onto the dock. “Are you coming back to camp soon?” Colt shook his head. “No, Jordan. Just leave me alone.” “Whoa. I just came out here to see how you’re doing.” Colt turned around, groaning more audibly as he saw the only scout considered weirder than him dressed in an oversized X-Files T-shirt and torn sweatpants decked in little alien heads. “We both know why you’re out here. You heard them talk about the sinking house and how crazy I am.” “I don’t think you’re crazy.” “Of course you don’t.” Colt sighed and took a seat on the edge of the dock. “No offense, Jordan, but you’re the last person I want to talk to about this right now.” “It’s not like you have anyone else to talk to,” Jordan replied, taking a seat next to him. “Why were you out here anyway?” Colt composed himself with a single deep breath. “You can’t tell anyone, Jordan. I mean it.” He nodded. “Benji saw Caleb and me walking together the other night. Caleb…got nervous and told Benji I was stalking him, which is not true. Anyway, they chased me and I took a kayak to get away from them. That wasn’t a good idea because they’re better kayakers than I am. And then…” Colt looked up to see if Jordan was still listening, which he truly appreciated. The other scouts would have made fun of his lisp by now or told Colt he “deserved” it. “And then we heard this weird piano music and started drowning. I know it sounds crazy but it was like we were sucked down a vacuum or portal or something. I ended up in this sunken house. It had a staircase and creepy portraits. I know it sounds unbelievable but-” “You found the sunken house of Gardener Lake!” Jordan exclaimed. “You would know the legend…” “I do! I can’t believe you found it. Holy shit, dude!” Colt smiled faintly as Jordan went on about how he researched the house on this website called The Shadow Lands and always wanted to find the house. “Well, they don’t believe me either.” “Then, they’re full of it. Everyone knows about the legend and if they deny it, they’re lying to themselves.” “I guess so.” “Alright,” Jordan said, sighing and looking over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you something too if you promise not to tell anyone.” “Okay…” “Last night, I saw a scout I didn’t recognize. He was standing on the docks where we are now. He wore this old-school scout uniform, a khaki-green shirt, and pants like my dad had in the seventies. He said his name was, well I forgot what it was exactly, but he was looking for our scoutmaster. I woke up the scoutmaster to find him. By the time we got there…he disappeared.” “You’re saying you saw a ghost.” “All I know is, there’s a lot of strange stuff out here.” “How did he react?” Colt laughed as Jordan made his best impression of Scoutmaster Jeff, bulging his muscles. “Listen to me, Jordy boy. I am your Scoutmaster. You must be a manly man like me and not believe in any ghost stories.” “He doesn’t sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger.” “He might as well with his fake macho attitude.” The boys joked and made impressions of Scoutmaster Jeff and the other campers until they drifted off to sleep. Colt had fallen asleep on the dock before but tonight was different. Jordan knew he was weird and didn’t care. Colt envied Jordan’s carefree attitude and lack of humility. The dull sounds of crickets and waves lulled them to a deep slumber. A few hours before sunrise, Colt heard the tinny, creaky notes from beneath the waves again. The notes no longer resembled “Swanee River” but a much older song, one he didn’t recognize. It sounded classical like Beethoven or Bach. Those were the only names Colt could recall from the short summer he took piano lessons. “Jordan, wake up!” Colt nudged him a few times until he gasped. “Jesus, dude. What is it?” “Do you hear that?” Jordan stretched his arms and then all of a sudden, sprang to his feet. “Holy shit, dude. Where is that piano music coming from?” “You can hear it?” “Of course I can! Hey…Scoutmaster Jeff’s boat is gone.” With each passing note, the boys paced back and forth on the dock, wondering what to do. Colt checked the time-3:00 a.m. Why would the scoutmaster take his boat out this early? Where were the notes coming from and why were they so loud and unnerving? He had only a moment to contemplate these questions before his thoughts were interrupted by muffled screams. “Who the hell is that? Who’s out-?!” Colt clasped Jordan’s mouth as the muffled screams continued. The screams conjoined with the tinny, creaky notes paralyzed them in fear. Jordan gestured for Colt to jump into the kayak. Unwittingly, Colt followed. As they paddled deeper into the lake, they could no longer make out the screams or notes. Only the faint sound of the tide and a gust of wind remained. “Oh my god.” Colt could barely believe his eyes as he saw Scoutmaster Jeff’s black-and-white motorized fishing boat several yards away from them. Though the boat was eclipsed by darkness, he could make out the silhouette of Scoutmaster Jeff and another smaller figure. “Is that who I-” Colt nodded slowly. Before they could say anything more, the boat sped off into the distance. Colt and Jordan were stunned. For the rest of their stay at Gardner Lake, the boys barely spoke to each other. But as the months passed, Colt knew something about Scoutmaster Jeff was “off” and something awful happened in the middle of Gardner Lake and it wasn’t the piano or house. When he tried to convince Jordan that they should tell someone, he insisted that all the boys were accounted for and that they had no proof. The boy who needed no proof to believe in aliens, bigfoot, and even the chupacabra suddenly decided to be reasonable about this one moment in time. When the months turned into years, Colt stopped going to scouts while Jordan stayed. He wanted nothing more to do with Troop 0172. He didn’t want to be friends with someone who only acted eccentric and outspoken when it suited his interests. Several years after Colt graduated from college, he could hardly believe that Sasha, one of his best friends, started dating Jordan. Sasha was an intelligent girl, working on her master’s degree in biology. Jordan unsurprisingly dropped out of the Connecticut School of Broadcasting to become a professional YouTuber. Needless to say, his endeavors weren’t successful. Colt and Jade, his other best friend, lived in a small house on the outskirts of Winsted. To his chagrin, Sasha and Jordan often stopped by the house together. Colt tried to make himself scarce when he was around. On one dreary December afternoon, he found this impossible to do. “Colt, come here,” Jade called from the living room. He was napping late into the afternoon and awoke disoriented as she called a second time. “Colt. Get up! We’re going to be late.” Jade, Sasha, and Jordan playfully snickered as he wandered into the room. He stared blankly at them for a few moments, Sasha and Jade in their long-sleeve, satin dresses and Jordan dressed head-to-toe in a taupe suit with a wool jacket. Jade and Sasha fidgeted with their purses while Jordan adjusted his cufflinks. “You seriously forgot.” Sasha giggled. Jordan played with her hair until she smacked his hand away. “Hun. We’re going to Samantha’s wedding today.” “You were sleeping all day,” Jade said. “You were talking really loudly in your sleep and said you ‘never knew why.’’ “I don’t remember that and isn’t she more of your friend, Sash?” “Yes…but.” “And Jade, weren’t you going with Miguel?” She shook her head. “He canceled at the last minute. He wasn’t feeling well, so now you’re my plus one.” “You’re kidding.” “I don’t blame him. He’s been through a lot these past few months.” “So have you. Sorry I didn’t mean to-” She sighed. “Don’t worry about it. And I have…but, I’m ready to get my mind off things. It will be fun. I hope.” “Where is it?” Colt asked, rubbing his eyes. “It’s at The Viridian.” Sasha perked up as she said the name. “It’s a really adorable rustic venue on Gardner Lake.” Colt and Jordan exchanged wide-eyed glances, chomping their lips. The girls didn’t seem to notice as they gushed about the charm of the venue. Jordan missed several hints from Sasha as he checked something on his phone. “Wait…” Jordan spoke hushedly, his eyes still locked on his screen. “Is this…the same Samantha who was just engaged to a different guy last year.” “It was a few years ago, Jordan.” Sasha groaned and nudged him. “She’s been with this nice guy named Caleb for the past couple of years.” Colt and Jordan exchanged the same glances, even more wide-eyed this time. “Saunders?” Colt uttered. “Caleb Saunders?” “How did you know?” they said in almost unison. “We went to Boy Scouts with him.” Jordan looked up from his screen and exhaled deeply. “He’s kind of an asshole.” “Jordan!” “No. For once, Jordan’s right. He and his best friend Benji used to pick on us when we were little.” “That sucks, hun,” Jade said, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Kids are the absolute worst. But it’s been like what? Fifteen years?” “Almost…” “People change. Let’s go, guys.” Sasha tugged Jordan toward the door. “What’s wrong, Colt?” “Nothing.” “You sure?” “I got to get changed into something nicer and we’ll go. Give me like three minutes, guys.” They laughed as if they had forgotten about Colt in his tee shirt and sweatpants. In his bedroom, Colt discovered the wedding invitation Jade dropped on his bureau. Caleb looked the same, only somehow blonder and more unhappy than he remembered him, as he stoically held a gleaming Samantha in front of a rose garden. The last time Colt saw him happy, they were twelve and holding each other in Caleb’s bedroom, genuinely enjoying each other’s company. Caleb’s father hosted scout meetings, which often led to the boys sneaking off while the other parents and kids engaged in some menial activity. The boys had been best friends since elementary school and even took piano lessons together. “Swanee River” was one of the first songs they learned on the piano. The closer they grew, the angrier his father became. He never found out anything they did, but his suspicions were enough for him to send Caleb on some kind of religious summer retreat with Scoutmaster Jeff and a few other scouts from his camp. By the time Colt inquired about the trip, Caleb had already left. When Caleb returned, he barely acknowledged Colt’s existence, other than to mock him and Jordan with Benji. Colt traced his fingers over Caleb’s stoic face before heading out into the bitter, winter evening. “It’s a little less than an hour and a half from here,” Jordan said as he started his clunky Chevrolet. Colt and Jade squeezed into the back seat around boxes of clutter and discarded cans of soda. “Excuse the mess, guys.” “Don’t worry about it,” Jade said, swatting some cans onto the floor. After a while, Jade noticed how unusually quiet the guys were. “This guy must have been awful to you, huh?” “Jade!” Sasha exclaimed as Jordan nodded straight forward. “I thought we said that people change.” “You said that…” Jordan was still unusually quiet. “People like Caleb and Benji don’t change. They made our lives miserable every chance they got.” Sasha sighed. “Really? I’m sorry guys. He seemed so nice when I met him and Sam for brunch a few months ago. What did he do?” “They chased me,” Colt said softly. “They chased me by boat into the middle of Gardener Lake, saying they were going to kill me.” “Tell them the other part,” Jordan said hoarsely. “They won’t believe me.” “They won’t believe me. They’ll believe you.” “Colt?” He stared blankly out the window before his name was said a few more times. “Yeah…sorry. It’s hard to think about. They said they were going to ‘slice me like the fruit I am’ and we were pulled under by this weird rip current. I sank deep into the water and saw this house…” “Sorry,” Jordan chimed in, perking up a bit. “Sometime in the 1800s, these people tried to push a house across the lake when it froze over in the winter. The house sank. Some say it was haunted. We even heard piano music coming from the lake…” “Thank you… Jordan. Uh okay, sorry, I…lost my train of thought. Anyway, the house was really old and had these strange photographs. When I came to the surface…I saw my scoutmaster with Benji and Caleb. The two denied they ever chased me. They denied being pulled underwater. The whole thing was weird.” “The rest of the summer, they taunted us mercilessly,” Jordan said, clenching a fist. “They taunted Colt for seeing the house and us for hearing the music on the lake. They accused Colt and me of being together and spray painted ‘f*g’ outside of our tent. I kicked both of their asses for that.” “I don’t remember that,” Colt said faintly. Beyond the morning they spotted the scoutmaster’s boat, the remainder of the summer was a blur. Perhaps he was so angry at Jordan for not wanting to say anything that he forgot the rest. “I quit scouting shortly after, but Jordan’s right. They didn’t change. They were assholes in high school, too. I couldn’t be ‘out’ because of guys like them.” “Luckily, only they thought they were cool,” Jordan said. “Being a scout in high school isn’t the popular thing to do. Trust me. I would know. I wouldn’t be surprised if that asshole Benji is the best man.” “He is…” Sasha was surfing her phone, thumbs shaking. “Benji’s the best man and who did you say the name of your scoutmaster was?” “I didn’t.” Jordan turned onto the interstate highway, struggling to keep his old Chevrolet steady in the wintry mix. “Scoutmaster Jeff. He was a well-liked religious do-gooder, but I saw straight through it.” “He’s the officiating pastor,” Sasha uttered. “Ugh. I’m sorry, guys. I totally didn’t know. We can leave as soon as it’s over.” “That’s probably for the best,” Jade stated firmly. “I had no idea when I met him, either.” “Yeah…” Colt kept his eyes fixed on the road. “We can use travel or something as an excuse.” “Well, wait a minute,” Jordan said. “Maybe I could capture some footage of the lake for my YouTube channel. “Don’t even, Jordan.” Sasha put a hand on his leg. “I thought you were giving that up.” Jordan ignored that remark and fidgeted with the dials on the radio. “I’m sick of listening to my playlist.” “So are we.” Jade laughed. “There’s only so much rockabilly we can take.” “That’s weird. I only seem to be getting one channel out here- 96.1. Hey… it’s playing this old-timey music, really old-timey music.” The three of them simultaneously groaned as Jordan turned up the volume and snapped his fingers to the tune of the ragtime piano music. The channel was a bit static-filled, so he turned the dial a bit more carefully. For the next half-hour, he annoyed them with this station and imitated a ragtime performer with a transatlantic accent. They pretended to ignore Jordan by being on their phones or talking over the music. When Sasha was sick of pretending, she shouted for him to “shut the hell up.” This bit went on until tinny, creaky notes from an old piano blasted through the car’s speakers. “What is this crap?! Can we change this!” Jade nudged the back of Jordan’s seat. “I think I recognize this from an old movie,” Sasha remarked. “It’s still awful though.” “That’s ‘Swanee River,” Colt murmured. Those awful notes were unmistakable. It wasn’t the upbeat version he learned in piano lessons, but the slow, droning one he heard on Gardner Lake all those years ago. Typically, when he heard an audio version of the song, an old-fashioned crooner accompanied those notes with additional instrumentals. This version sounded like it was produced in a saloon or from the grand piano in his late grandparents’ dining room. The four of them stayed silent as the song’s volume and droning melody increased. “That’s the same song we heard on the lake that day…” Jordan quickly switched the radio back to Bluetooth mode and sighed with relief as a song from his rockabilly playlist came on. “We’re not far out, guys. Let’s just…talk.” “Serves you right,” Sasha said, slapping his knee. Jordan and Colt’s stoic expressions caused Sasha to instantly regret her actions. “I don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but I don’t know how to help. What happened to you was messed up and I’m sorry. All I can say is if we stick together tonight, maybe it won’t be as bad.” The three of them agreed to this pact. The closer Jordan drove to the rustic, lakeside venue, the louder the song’s notes rattled through Colt’s mind. Even after they parked in the snow-sprinkled lot and stepped out into the frigid night, he could only hear the notes playing on repeat. He wasn’t sure if the notes were in his head or from the distant lake. Burrowing his hands in his jacket, Jordan seemed unbothered and unable to hear the notes. He and Sasha linked arms and scurried past some guests to the main entrance. Jade grabbed Colt’s arm, which somehow caused the music to cease entirely. “You’ll be okay and if it sucks, you have plenty of relatives who can die.” Colt chuckled. “We’re not in college anymore. My old Aunt Lucy can’t die and get us out of a history test again.” “Why not? If it sucks, your favorite aunt can have a heart attack or something.” Jade and Colt joked about this and other college shenanigans as they made their way inside the lobby for cocktail hour. They marveled at the massive, tinseled Christmas tree that scraped the wooden beams. Jade remarked how lovely the stone-accented walls were along with linen-covered cocktail tables. When Jordan and Sasha sauntered over, the girls split off to socialize with Samantha’s friends, leaving the guys to scan the room for any familiar faces. “Cranberry and goat cheese baguettes?” a tuxedoed waiter asked at their side. Colt shook his head while Jordan grabbed a fistful from the tray. “Thwat’s Bewji.” “Swallow.” “Sorry. That’s Benji by the tree. He’s talking to…oh man, that’s Scoutmaster Jeff.” Benji wore the same blue-streaked, spiky hair people knew him for in high school while the scoutmaster looked just as smug and well-dressed as Colt remembered him, sporting a crew cut and navy suit. Colt and Jordan watched the men reminisce with former scouts and clink glasses together. Something about their happiness made Colt nauseous. Maybe it was Benji’s pompous laugh or the way the scoutmaster touched all the men tenderly as he spoke. “It’s like they don’t remember.” “Or don’t want to.” “Jordan, don’t you remember the morning we went on the kayak? You know, the same morning we heard screams from his boat?” Jordan nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “I don’t know. Maybe I was too scared.” “Who knows how many. Sorry…” Colt willed himself to stop, exhaling deeply. The bulbs from the Christmas tree started to flicker. They flickered bulb by bulb, first in columns, then circling the tree the way a snake circles and encloses its prey. Colt grabbed Jordan’s arm as the bulbs started to burst. No other soul seemed to notice as glass burst onto the floor. Benji and the scoutmaster laughed heartily with the others, unbothered by the glass raining upon their heads. They couldn’t scream. They couldn’t move. Colt rapidly blinked, hoping his eyes deceived him, but when he locked eyes with the group again, the men looked like teenage boys, wearing their tan shirts and long green shorts. The scoutmaster remained his current age, caressing each boy’s back. “Jordan…are you seeing this? Jordan?!” “What the hell’s going on?” “I have no idea.” Before they could say anything more, the glass from the chandelier burst into thousands of pieces. Jordan and Colt were unable to avoid the shards that pierced their shoulders. The hundred other guests carried on as if the glass wasn’t falling into their food and drinks. Jordan yelped as a shard sliced the top of his ear. He cupped his ear, but blood trickled through his fingertips. Colt reached to help but then hit the floor as two more chandeliers exploded along with the last lingering light in the room. In the darkness, Colt saw the faint flicker of a flashlight. The light illuminated the faces of a dozen boys, all different ages, bringing their forefingers to the brim of their hats. Some of the boys wore the older uniforms Colt only saw in photographs, sporting five-button, choke-collar coats, and canvas leggings. Their faces looked older too with stoic expressions and oil-slicked hair sticking out of their caps. In unison, the boys recited the code: “On my honor, I will do my best to Do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law Help other people at all times Keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.” Despite standing right in front of him, the boys’ voices were hollow and grainy. They sounded as if they were pre-recorded on a wax cylinder, gramophone, or an even older device. The boys repeated the oath once more, their words bellowing in the darkness. The words “help other people at all times” caused Colt to tremble as the light shined on the scoutmaster’s equally stoic expression. “Guys. Are you okay? Hello?” As two fingers snapped, Colt and Jordan regained a sense of their surroundings. The lobby returned to its former glory with all the lights, tree bulbs, glass, and even Jordan’s ear intact. They brushed themselves off, anxiously checking their surroundings. It took several seconds for them to gather their composure and move into the reception room with the other guests. “What the hell was that?” Jade asked. “I don’t know…” By the time they began to comprehend the preceding events, the guests were seated in the reception wall, which was filled to the brim with beautifully hand-carved wooden chairs. Sasha and Jade gawked at the elegant white runner and the rose-covered altar while Colt and Jordan scanned the crowd for anyone who looked the slightest bit unusual or out of place. When they were sure that their minds were cohesive, the reception commenced. For some reason, Colt felt an overwhelming sense of drowsiness when Scoutmaster Jeff took his place by the altar. He could barely keep his eyes open when Caleb walked down the aisle. Unlike his invitation picture, he seemed full of life with his raised cheeks and a wide smile. He met Colt’s gaze for only a moment before his eyes darted elsewhere. As the groomsmen and bridesmaids took their positions, Colt’s head nodded up and down, his muscle tone decreasing, thoughts draining to inconsequential images of a teenage Jordan and Colt playing cards in the tent, Jordan entering another tent, Caleb standing alone on the docks, and Benji drinking a can of beer. As Caleb and Samantha were pronounced husband and wife, these images drained to darkness. Colt knew he wasn’t sleeping, however, as his body led him to the dining area of the hall where the four of them were seated at a table of eight. “That was beautiful,” Sasha said, a bit teary-eyed. “I…meant the ceremony, of course.” “It was quite a good ceremony.” Jordan yawned. “I’m not into all that religious stuff but their vows were beautiful.” “I agree. I often thought about what my wedding would be like. What did you think, Colt?” Jade waved a hand in front of Colt’s face. “Earth to Colt?” “Yeah, no. It was good. I’m just tired.” A boy with a khaki green shirt and pants came into his line of sight, gaping at Scoutmaster Jeff from a nearby punch bowl. “Hey, do you guys see that weird kid by the punchbowl?” “Colt! That’s not nice!” Jade said. “But yes, it’s kind of weird to see a kid wearing a Boy Scout uniform.” The boy took slow, almost robotic movements, toward Scoutmaster Jeff’s chair. “No. He is weird,” Sasha said. “Who dresses their kid like that for a wedding? Oh god. Jordan? What’s wrong now? You two have been acting weird and quiet all night.” “I…saw that same kid when I was little.” Jordan’s voice cracked when he spoke. “We were camping on Gardner Lake. He was standing on the docks, just staring out into the darkness. He wanted me to bring him the scoutmaster. By the time I brought the scoutmaster there, he was gone.” “That’s creepy,” Sasha said, flicking the band of her watch. “But it can’t be the same kid, Jordan. That was many years ago.” “No, Sash. He’s wearing the same uniform he did that day. You see that hat he’s wearing? It’s called a beret or garrison cap. My dad wore the same thing when he was a scout in the seventies.” The four of them watched as the boy tapped the scoutmaster on his shoulder. Scoutmaster Jeff turned around, his jaw dropping as he saw the little boy. The other adults at the table smiled widely at the little boy’s presence, many wondering out loud if he was a family member or related to someone in the wedding party. “Can I…help you?” Scoutmaster Jeff asked, forcing a joyful tone. “You’re dressed up tonight.” “If you tell the truth, you will save us all,” the boy said, his face and tone completely deadpan. “Wh-what was that, buddy?” “If you tell the truth, you will save us all!” the boy screamed, drawing the table to complete silence. At the end of the table, someone shattered a wine glass. “I’m sorry. Is your mommy or daddy nearby?” “Your parents are my parents,” the boy said firmly. “If you tell the truth, you will save us all!” All eyes were on the scoutmaster and the boy. All voices ceased, save for the distant wedding band. The scoutmaster stood up from the table and knelt at the boy’s level. “I’m sorry, everyone! I recognize you now, William. You’ve gotten so big! I’m sorry, everyone. That’s my cousin Henry’s kid. His family’s going through a tough time.” The scoutmaster grabbed the boy by the hand and squeezed. “Your daddy went outside to get some fresh air. Let’s go find him.” “Your parents are my parents!” the boy screamed as the scoutmaster whisked him away through the grand double doors that led to the courtyard by the lake. “Our parents are dead! If you tell the truth, you will save us all!” As the door slammed behind them, almost everyone in the venue returned to normal activity and chatter. Sasha, Jordan, Colt, and Jade glanced at each other and then back at the door, several times before Colt rose to his feet and crept out the same doors into the bitter night. A few moments later, Jordan and the others followed. The stone courtyard, a popular feature in the summer and fall, remained completely dark, its moss walls blanketed by snow and ice. Beyond the walls of the courtyard, Colt spotted the scoutmaster and the boy standing on the venue’s wooden dock, covered in poinsettia petals from a photoshoot hours earlier. A black-and-white motorized fishing boat was moored to the docks. “They’re on the dock over there…and that’s the scoutmaster’s boat,” Colt said, hands stiff in his jacket pockets. The others gathered around him, each placing a hand on his waist. “They’re just yelling at each other, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.” “What are you planning to do, Colt?” Jordan’s voice trembled at the word “do.” “Whatever you’re doing, please be careful,” Jade followed. Sasha nodded. “What’s the plan, Colt?” “What do you mean?” Colt said. “You guys aren’t going to try and stop me?” They shook their heads. “We’ve been through too much together these past few months,” Sasha whispered. “I’m going to stop him,” Colt stated firmly. “He’s hurt too many people.” A cold breeze blew in from the lake. From inside the venue, they could hear the band, playing the recessional song and loud cheers as the wedding party entered the room. As the music and cheers carried into the night, the scoutmaster glanced over his shoulder, taking a few steps away from the boy. Then, he ran a full sprint back into the venue, not even noticing them. “You, uh, want to go back in, Colt?” Jade asked as the scoutmaster’s voice boomed over the mic, triggering more cheers. He shook his head. “You want to talk to the kid, don’t you?” Jordan sighed as Colt uttered “yeah” under his misty breath. “Do you want us to come with you?” “Only if you’re comfortable.” “None of us are comfortable,” Sasha replied with an awkward chuckle. “But, let’s go find out what the weird kid wants.” As the four of them trudged through the snow, the young boy echoed part of the Boy Scout chant into the wind with strength and repetition. “Help other people at all times! Help other people at all times! Help other people at all times!” As they stepped onto the dock, Colt gently placed a hand on the boy’s shoulders. The boy felt cold to the touch, colder than the harsh December wind. He expected his hand to go through the boy, but it remained firm, as the boy glanced up at him. “I failed,” the boy said in a low, solemn tone. “I failed my oath.” “What…oath?” “To help other people at all times. I grew up to hurt other people. I grew up to be a monster…and that monster doesn’t want to save any of us.” Colt heard the boy sob, deep uncontrollable sobs. “Are you, Jeffrey?” The boy nodded, tears piercing the dock like fallen icicles. “But how? How is that possible? Scoutmaster Jeff is-” As the boy wept, Jordan spoke hoarsely. “Alive. You’re a living ghost, an ikiryō. Aren’t you Jeffrey?” The boy nodded again. As he continued to sob, each tear froze and dissipated on the wooden dock. “A what?” the ladies muttered collectively. “An ikiryō is a living ghost. The Japanese believe that an ikiryō is a disembodied spirit that leaves the body of a living person to haunt people or places, sometimes nearby, sometimes across close distances.” The three of them stood jaw agape as the boy stopped weeping. “W-why are you here?” either Jade or Sasha asked. Colt couldn’t tell. He was feeling drowsy again. “I’ve always been here,” the boy said coldly. “What do you plan to do tonight?” “I need them to see me. I need them to see the others.” “Do we have ikiryōs?” Jordan asked, his voice now a faint whisper. The boy’s frosty blue eyes affirmed his question. “Where are they?” “In the sinking house…” With those words, the boy began to shriek, his jaw stretching to inhuman proportions, his eyes retreating into their sockets. The shriek was so audible and unsettling that it caused the icicles overhanging the venue to crash into the courtyard. The shriek carried into the depths of the night, shattering the light from the stars and the ominous blue moon. In darkness once more, Colt not only felt drowsy but as if he was falling, much like the way he fell into the abyss of Gardner Lake as a timid thirteen-year-old. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Colt heard the scoutmaster’s voice as he drifted back into consciousness. He found himself standing on the dance floor next to the others who were visibly shaken, especially Jordan with moist eyes and teeth chattering. “Caleb and Samantha Saunders will take their first dance as husband and wife.” As Colt saw light again, the crowd cheered as the newlyweds took their place on the dance floor. “Let’s get the hell out of here after this,” Sasha harshly whispered. “I have…no idea what’s going on.” The first dance commencing drowned out Jade and Jordan’s words. For some reason, the band was shrouded in darkness. The spotlight shined on the couple as they took their places, gazing tenderly into each other’s eyes. Colt was surprised about how genuinely Caleb looked at her. She looked beautiful, however, and Colt found himself genuinely happy as they began to dance to a song he recognized by the band Lifehouse, but forgot the name of. “This is the…first normal thing about tonight,” Colt said. All the others could do was nod and smile hesitantly as the two glided across the dance floor in an elegant waltz. As the minutes passed, they smiled warmly at the happy couple and clapped as they moved into a break with an underarm turn. “You both are right,” Jordan said, not knowing whether to smile warmly or shiver at the thought of something else happening. “This is surprisingly beautiful. But let’s make our exit after…” Suddenly, the music stopped and the spotlight shifted from the happy couple to the little boy, who was now holding a sleek, silver condenser microphone with a long handle. The feedback from the microphone caused many people to cover their ears. “I would like to dedicate a song to the happy couple to free the spirits within us tonight.” The audience awkwardly clapped as the spotlight shifted to Scoutmaster Jeff. The hesitant clapping turned to loud, raucous applause as the boy motioned for the scoutmaster to step up to the microphone. “I would like my cousin to sing this song with me,” the boy’s voice became distorted and the feedback from the microphone increased, booming so violently that the crowd ducked and gasped as it boomed into the walls. The scoutmaster shook his head furiously, but then, the boy curled the mic’s handle, causing him to slide across the floor into the center of the dance floor. “I think the band knows this song,” the boy twisted the mic again and the band started to play the familiar, awful song that had haunted the lake for many years. The five-piece band was stunned as they started the notes of “Swanee River.” The piano player and saxophonist appeared to be losing control of their fingers while the bass player and guitarist seemed to enjoy the notes coming from their instruments, eyes completely glazed over. The boy twisted the microphone twice more, subsequently twisting the jaw of Scoutmaster Jeff and the movements of Caleb and Samantha into a smooth swing. He laughed heartily, extracting the notes and movements of the god-forsaken song from all involved. “Way down upon the Swanee River, Far, far away. There’s where my heart is turning ever, There’s where the old folks stay” As the boy sang, the band played and the scoutmaster unwittingly sang along, the ground underneath them shook, shifting the tables and chairs. The audience screamed along with the band as they scrambled to grab their instruments and stay afoot. Jordan helped Sasha to her feet and Jade helped Colt to his while the boy remained at the microphone, singing the chorus once again. This time, the words caused Colt to have an even sharper migraine. Then, a bright flash exploded across the room, overwhelming Colt with countless memories. Colt saw himself at twelve in the living room with Scoutmaster Jeff and his father. His father was sobbing and angry. The scoutmaster explained to him that his urges were “natural” but required “self-control.” Colt saw himself at thirteen in a dark tent, waking up to the scoutmaster breathing down his neck. The scoutmaster explained that Colt had a “medical emergency” and needed monitoring. Colt saw himself at eleven, asking Jordan why he was crying after he came home from a fishing trip that Colt had missed due to being ill. Jordan told him he had “taken a bad fall” and had an upper-leg injury to show it. Colt saw himself at fourteen, a year after he quit Scouts, talking to Jordan in the cafeteria about Benji being arrested in the parking lot of a 7/11, smashing beer bottles and screaming. Benji claimed in court that his father had abused him. Colt remembered Scoutmaster Jeff picking him up from high school and bringing him to AA meetings. Colt saw himself as a sophomore in college, abruptly ending a romantic encounter after being touched below his waistline. Later that night, Colt cried to Jade that he didn’t know why he was so scared. When the bright flash ended, Jordan and Colt looked up at the ladies with tears in their eyes. “Scoutmaster Jeff is a monster!” Jordan screamed, pushing a chair into a table. “I was only a kid. I was only a-” Sasha grabbed Jordan and pulled him in closer while he screamed into her chest. “I never knew why,” Colt said as Jade hugged him. “I never knew why I was so scared until I remembered what that man did to me.” The crowd was abuzz with chatter as several more men, including Benji and Caleb, approached the Scoutmaster who stood unmoved as four men approached him from all sides, each one more rage-filled than the other. “You said my father caused my bruises but he never touched me!” Benji screamed, raising a fist to his face. “I should kill you right now.” “You told me I couldn’t like guys and girls…” Caleb took a step closer as the scoutmaster bit his upper lip. “My parents sent me to therapy because of you but they didn’t believe me when I told them. I can’t…” Caleb stormed off into the vast sea of angry and confused faces, which were gathering nearer as the men continued to shout. Samantha frantically chased after him. “Our parents trusted you,” a dark-skinned man with a fedora said solemnly, grabbing the lapels of the scoutmaster’s jacket. His twin brother, who wore a matching fedora, hung his head low, shaking violently. “They trusted you to take us on a fishing trip because they both had to work. You know what you did to us.” The scoutmaster took a few steps back. The crowd of over a hundred people, including the band, stepped closer to the scoutmaster, shouting and swearing. The little boy stood motionless in the middle of the floor. The scoutmaster scrambled to the serving table and grabbed a butcher knife, raising it in the air. “What are you going to do with that?!” Benji shouted. “Are you going to stab us all? I dare you to try. How about you start with me first.” With the knife trembling in his hand, the scoutmaster took a step toward the boy, stabbing the butcher knife into his neck. The boy dropped to his knees, grasping his neck, but no blood fell through the gash. The boy tried to scream, but no sound emerged. As his eyes rolled back into their sockets, his image untethered like a ball of yarn, each string a vibrant color of his original image. Colt ran toward the boy, attempting to grab ahold of the strings, but as each stand fell into the palm of his hands, they disappeared into thin air. Colt fell into blackness again. “You seriously forgot.” Sasha giggled. Jordan played with her hair until she smacked his hand away. “Hun. We’re going to Samantha’s wedding today.” “You were sleeping all day,” Jade said. “You were talking really loudly in your sleep and said you ‘never knew why.’’ “Oh no…” Colt said. “Oh no. It couldn’t have been…” “Some dream you were having,” Jordan said. “You were saying Scoutmaster Jeff was a monster and his ikiryō was there and…” “I haven’t heard that word in a long time. Was that the one we had when we were kids?” “Yes. He’s the officiating pastor today.” “He’s right,” Sasha said looking up from her phone. “Were you close with this guy?” “We all were!” Colt shouted. “It couldn’t have been a dream. It couldn’t have.” “Maybe you were,” Jordan said. “But I barely remember the guy.” “That’s impossible. How could you forget what he did to us? How could you forget what he did to Benji and Caleb?” “Benji and Caleb? Those guys who used to bully us? Did he punish them? If so, they deserved it. Phew. They were real jerks.” Jade put an arm around his shoulder and directed him to his room. “We’ve been through a lot these past few months, more than anyone should have to go through. I don’t know who this guy is but if you want to stay home, you can…” “No!” Colt shouted. “No…it must have been an awful dream. I was at the wedding and so much strange stuff happened, supernatural even.” “We all need therapy of some sort,” she said. “I’m starting again when my insurance clears and even Sasha and Jordan were talking about it too. If you’re having dreams like this, maybe you should…” “Yeah. What he did to us wasn’t a dream though. Will you talk to him about this?” Jade agreed, but for the entirety of the car ride, Colt stayed silent just as he had done all those years. He was beginning to forget too. He was beginning to forget what exactly it was Scoutmaster Jeff had done, even his face was starting to become blurry. The anger and sadness deep inside Colt remained. When Colt’s friends asked him if he was “okay,” he couldn’t even nod. He just stared straight ahead at the windshield wipers as they crushed the slush and icicles. When they arrived at the venue, there was an inordinate amount of people standing out in the cold. They scattered around the venue and by the shores of the lake. Some of the guests carried flashlights. Another one pulled a barking dog on a leash. As Jordan pulled into the parking lot, Samantha rushed up to the car in her off-white wedding dress, a mixture of makeup and tears rolling down her cheeks. Sasha and Jade threw their arms around her. “What’s wrong sweetie? Why’s everyone out here?!” “It’s awful! We can’t find Caleb. All morning he was talking about some terrible dream he had and none of it made sense. He talked about having to find a house. I-I don’t know. I thought he was over it when he got to the venue but when it was time for the photoshoot, no one could find him.” “That’s terrible!” Jade exclaimed. “Colt, where are you going? Colt?!” As his friends shouted, Colt started sprinting toward the rear of the venue. The snow was thick, knee-deep to his ankles, and he wasn’t particularly good at running. After almost tripping over a jagged rock and narrowly smashing into a stone bench, he reached the courtyard. Colt bent over to catch his breath. By the docks, he saw Scoutmaster Jeff in his black-and-white motorized fishing boat. As Colt neared the docks, the Scoutmaster waved to him. “By golly,” the scoutmaster said. “If it isn’t Colt Chambers from Troop 0172. It’s been ages. I don’t know if you’ve heard but our groom has disappeared. I could use a good Scout and a fine man like you to help.” “Sure,” Colt said, stepping into the boat. “Did he have his boat on him?” “It’s the darndest thing.” Colt cringed as the scoutmaster threw an arm around him. “I know he has a kayak but no one knows. You’ve become nice and strong. You’re so grown up now.” “He might be in the middle of the lake…” “Why do you say that?” “Just a feeling…” As the boat sped toward the center of Gardner Lake, Colt shivered. He felt his hands go numb, sweat dripping down the back of his suit to his waist. Despite all that, he remained completely still. Gray and black clouds hid the ominous blue moon. The lake was silent, not even a cool winter breeze passed their way. Colt instructed the scoutmaster to shut off the boat in case they could hear any yelling. As the scoutmaster turned the key, Colt wrung both his hands around his neck and squeezed as hard as he could. To Colt’s surprise, he didn’t move. His neck was too meaty so Colt put him in a chokehold, squeezing him even tighter. “I…know what you did to Caleb that day on the boat…fifteen years ago. Don’t you dare look at me that way, not now, not anymore. That’s why you brought him out here. He remembers everything and so do I. I remember everything you did to us, every awful, disgusting thing. The thing you didn’t count on was all the disembodied spirits you created from what you did. You can’t keep them in the house forever and you can’t kill them all. Even if you killed him, even if you kill me, they’ll still be there.” The scoutmaster thrust Colt’s arms away, freeing himself from the chokehold. As Colt stood up, Scoutmaster Jeff punched his nose, which caused him to stumble backward, falling overboard into the water. Despite being a good swimmer, Colt fainted at the sight of blood and sank rapidly, deep into a dark abyss. He awoke to find his body smashing through a pine door. His body kept sinking until he hit an oak staircase. Just as he was about to double over in agony, he felt something pull him. He glanced up to see Caleb, completely unharmed, and smiled gleefully. Surrounding Caleb were several other beings he couldn’t quite discern except for the green outline of their Boy Scout uniforms, each patched with the words “Troop 0172.” Their faces were warped and pixelated. Their hairstyles looked strikingly familiar, however, to the type Colt and his friends wore as teenagers. He even recognized one with the man bun Jordan had as a teenager and the blue-streaked, spiky hair Benji wore. Colt, Caleb, and the beings, which now numbered several dozen, pushed their way to the surface as the neverending cavity walls of the old colonial house fell beneath them. The portraits on those walls were empty. The last part of the house that fell past him was a living room with a mahogany grand piano. At the bench of the piano sat the little boy with a khaki-green shirt and pants, smiling sheepishly as the house collapsed once and for all into the depths of the lake. Colt and Caleb were the first ones to emerge from the water. The black-and-white speed boat circled the perimeter, its propellers chopping through the waves. As soon as the scoutmaster noticed where they were, he put his boat into reverse and accelerated toward them, its aluminum propellers cutting toward them like a buzzsaw on firewood. The rapid movement of the propellers and screeching sound left them frozen with no time to react. When the blades were inches away from their heads, Colt saw a dozen warped and pixelated faces emerge from the water from one side of the boat and then a dozen more from the other. The sight of the faces startled the scoutmaster as he stumbled backward off the pedal. Four of the beings crawled into the boat and grabbed ahold of the scoutmaster’s legs and arms, tossing him like a ragdoll into the water. The Scoutmaster screamed as the beings piled on him and pulled him underneath the now crashing waves. Colt and Caleb climbed into the fishing boat and spent the next several minutes catching their breath as the submerged screams faded away. The lake grew silent once more. As Caleb turned the keys in the ignition, he heard the tinny, creaky notes of “Swanee River” echo into the night. Credit: Tristan Mason Facebook Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.