The depth of short stories and micro-fiction 2

The River's Dark Secret

Moira had always loved camping trips with her family. Something about spending time in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of daily life, brought them all closer together. She, her husband, John, and their two children, Emily and James, had been planning this trip for months. They arrived at the campsite on a sunny afternoon, eager to start their adventure.

As they walked through the forest, the sound of the river grew louder. The children were excited to see the water, and Moira was happy to oblige. She took Emily's hand, while John took James', and they continued the path. Suddenly, James tripped and fell into the dark river. Moira's heart sank as she watched in horror.

John didn't hesitate. He jumped into the water, shouting for James to grab his hand. Moira and Emily stood frozen on the riverbank, watching as the water churned and foamed. Then, to Moira's relief, James' head popped out of the water. He was coughing and spluttering, but he was alive.

But where was John? Moira scanned the river, her eyes frantically searching for her husband. She called out his name, but there was no response. A sense of panic rose inside her.

As she looked back at the water, she saw James swimming towards her. He was a strong swimmer, and he quickly reached the shore. Moira rushed to grab him, relief washing over her. But as she touched his wet body, she felt a searing pain in her hands. She jerked back, shocked.

"James, is that you?" she asked, her voice shaking.

The boy looked up at her, his eyes blank and unrecognizable. Moira felt a chill run down her spine. Something was wrong.

"James, where's Daddy?" Emily asked, tugging on Moira's hand.

The boy didn't respond. Moira tried to hold him again, but the pain in her hands was too much. She couldn't understand what was happening.

As the sun began to set, Moira realized that she had to get the children back to the campsite. She took Emily's hand and tried to lead James, but he refused to move. He just stood there, staring at the water.

"Come on, James," Moira said, trying to keep her voice calm. "We need to get back to the campsite."

But James didn't respond. He just kept staring at the water, his eyes fixed on something that Moira couldn't see. She felt a sense of unease growing inside her.

As the darkness deepened, Moira knew that she had to get the children to safety. She grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her along, leaving James standing by the river. As they walked, Moira couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

When they arrived at the campsite, Moira was relieved to see that everything was still intact. She quickly built a fire and tried to warm up Emily, who was shivering with fear. But Moira's mind was with James. Where was he? And what had happened to John?

As the night wore on, Moira heard a rustling in the bushes. She turned to see James emerging from the darkness. His eyes were still blank, and his skin was deathly pale.

"James, where have you been?" Moira asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

But James just stared at her, his eyes fixed on something that Moira couldn't see. She felt a sense of horror growing inside her.

Suddenly, James spoke. His voice was low and raspy, and it sent shivers down Moira's spine.

"I've been with Daddy," he said. "He's still in the water."

Moira's heart sank. She knew that John was dead. But what had happened to James? Why was he acting so strangely?

As the night wore on, Moira's fear turned to horror. She realized that James was no longer her son. Something had taken him, something that had emerged from the dark river.

And then, Moira saw it. A figure emerging from the water, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. It was John, but not John. Something had taken him, something that had been lurking in the depths of the river.

Moira knew that she had to get Emily to safety. She grabbed her daughter's hand and ran, leaving James and the thing that had taken him behind. They didn't stop running until they reached the car, parked at the edge of the forest.

As they drove away, Moira looked back at the river, her heart heavy with grief. She knew that she would never see John again and that James was gone forever. The river had taken them, and Moira was left with a sense of horror that she would never be able to shake off.

The drive back home was silent, Moira's mind filled with thoughts of what had happened. She knew that she would never be able to go back to that place, never be able to face the horror that lurked in the depths of the river.

As they arrived home, Moira felt a sense of relief wash over her. She knew that she and Emily were safe, but she also knew that their lives would never be the same again. The river had taken something from them, something that could never be replaced.

Moira looked at Emily, who was sleeping in the backseat. She knew that she had to be strong, for her daughter's sake. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, ready to face whatever lay ahead. But as she looked back at the forest, she couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being watched, that the river was waiting for them to return.