Come to the Water

            Dance dance, my little muse. Come closer to the water, my wandering angel. Find yourself among the bulrush. Find yourself in my shadow. Let your feet dance their way toward the black waters of my home. Let the lake water soak your little plaid dress and chill your bones.

            I rise out of my tangled nest of lake weed, the air changing me to the glamorous white steed this child will see. Only the water’s reflection can expose my tangled mane of seaweed and my pelt of scales. Only the child’s inevitable touch would reveal the slime concealed with the shimmering illusion of a white horse’s coat. As I lift each of my feet out of the lake, the mud slides off to reveal the too-perfect hooves that veil my clawed feet.

            It’s my quiet whinny that alerts the little angel of my presence. Her eyes light up and I can see my glittering guise reflected in them. She sweeps her gaze across my form and she squeals in excitement. Her little form jerks in my direction, now running to meet my beautiful mirage. As she approaches, I lie down submissively, disarmingly. She stretches her young hand out to pet the soft pink nose she sees. If only my disguise shielded the true feel of my skin. If that were so, she wouldn’t become confused when her hand inexplicably touches a cold, clammy surface where she expects a warm, soft muzzle. But children are not so wise as to question such an inconsistency. Instead, she moved her fingers up and down my long face, still confused, but simultaneously comfortable in her ignorance.

            Filled with calm anticipation, I gently urge her to move her pets further down my body. She must touch my torso – just one touch is all I need. And with a small nudge of my nose, that is just what she does.

            She places her hand one my back, with the intent of a gentle stroke, but her hand can’t move once it’s made contact. She’s mine now.

            Worry enveloped her soft features and she struggles to break her hand from my slime’s hold. She struggles, placing her other hand on my body for leverage. Now she’s most certainly stuck, and it’s time for me to fix my meal.

            I stand, and the girl’s screams ensure the plentiful flood of fear that will make her taste so good. Each slow step of my four feet, still hidden beneath their vale, takes the child closer to her demise. Step after step I descend into the lake. The stale lake water washes away my guise with each step until I’m almost covered. The girl’s shrieks ring out around me, each wave more intense as her eyes finally take in my true form; my disgustingly beautiful form. Finally she sees my glowing yellow eyes, which swim with black streaks as murky as the lake water around us.

            She’s shaking, shivering from both the fear and the cold lake water that surrounds her. She’s gasping for air as I drag her down with my. Her struggles have adhered her tiny form to me, disallowing any useful flailing. She lets out one last cry for help, but she’s wandered too far for any help to hear her. One last step drags her face under the water, and she struggles desperately to find air in the water. It’s only moments before her struggles cease and only moments more until the water will release the girl from the glue that keeps her stuck to me. Her consciousness fades and the girl’s terror filled face relaxes into something like sleep.

            I take a moment to watch as the lifeless body of my dancing angel floats toward the surface. I take a moment to hear her pulse fade to nothing. Instinct tells me I’ve waited a moment too long – it’s time to partake of my supper. It’s time to eat.