Chapter 12: The Black Abyss
The scream tore from Kate’s throat, raw and ragged, swallowed instantly by the thick, rotting air of the boathouse. The water where Jace had vanished churned, bubbles frantic then fading. Gone. Silence slammed down, broken only by the wet slap-slap against the pilings and the frantic thud of her own heart against her ribs. The killer’s tooth glinted on the wet wood beside her knee, a tiny, mocking accusation.
Knife. Right boot.
The words echoed in the hollow space Jace’s roar had left behind. Command. Lifeline. Impossible demand. Her body screamed run. Run barefoot into the freezing night, away from the black water and the thing that lived in it. Run until her lungs burst. But an image flashed: Jace’s eyes, wide with a primal terror she recognized – the terror of being seen, truly seen, just before the dark swallowed him whole. The terror she’d lived with for years. He’d dragged her into this nightmare, used her, kissed her… and then plunged back into the abyss for proof. For leverage. To stop the monster.
He wasn’t the only monster down there now.
"Fuck," she breathed, the word a puff of vapor in the chill. Her hands were shaking violently. The flashlight beam still pointed uselessly upward. The dark water lapped, hungry. Panic was a physical weight, crushing her chest. Move. Or he dies. And you’re next. The thought wasn’t noble; it was pure, animal survival.
She lunged.
Not for the flashlight. Not for the tooth. She scrambled on hands and knees towards the violently disturbed patch of water where Jace had disappeared. Her fingers plunged into the freezing blackness. The shock was like electric knives stabbing up her arms, stealing her breath. She gasped, recoiling for a split second, the cold a living thing biting deep into her bones. Can’t. Can’t do this. The water looked thick as oil, impenetrable.
Another image: the pale teeth gleaming in the roots below. Proof left behind. Like Jace might be.
"Shit," she hissed, teeth chattering. She braced her hands on the slick, rotting edge of the dock. Took one ragged, useless breath. Then pushed off, plunging headfirst into the black.
The cold wasn’t a shock this time; it was annihilation. It wrapped around her skull, her chest, her limbs, squeezing the air from her lungs in a silent scream. Water flooded her nose, thick with silt and the taste of decay – stagnant mud, dead fish, something else… metallic, old. She kicked blindly, disoriented, the world reduced to freezing, suffocating pressure and utter, absolute darkness. Up? Down? Which way was the surface? Panic flared, bright and blinding. Treading water. You’re treading water, idiot. She forced her legs to move, scissoring in the heavy water, fighting the drag of her soaked clothes. Her head broke the surface with a desperate gasp, sucking in the foul boathouse air. She was maybe three feet from the dock, disoriented and freezing, but alive.
Jace. Knife. Right boot.
She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see anything but faint, wavering moonlight filtering through the grimy windows high above, reflecting dully on the disturbed water around her. Below was only inky void. Taking another gasping breath, she pinched her nose, squeezed her eyes shut, and jackknifed downwards.
The cold clamped down harder. Darkness pressed in, absolute. She kicked deeper, arms outstretched, sweeping blindly through the freezing water. Her fingers brushed slimy wood – a piling. She recoiled, then forced herself to grasp it, using it to pull herself deeper. The water pressure built in her ears. Roots. She felt tangled, fibrous roots clinging to the submerged wood, thick as ropes. Her exploring hand brushed something hard, smooth, unmistakably curved. A tooth. Horror surged, bile rising in her throat even underwater. She snatched her hand back as if burned.
Focus! Boot! Find him!
She pushed off the piling, deeper still, sweeping her arms frantically through the murk. Her flailing hand struck something solid. Fabric. Denim? Leather? She grabbed, pulling herself closer. A leg. Boots. Right boot! She fumbled down the heavy, waterlogged leather, her numb fingers searching for the top, the shaft. Nothing. Panic scrabbled. Inside? She clawed at the laces, thick with silt, impossibly stiff. Her lungs were burning, demanding air. Black spots danced behind her closed eyelids. Come on! Her fingers, clumsy with cold, finally wormed past the soaked tongue of the boot. She felt hard plastic. A handle. She gripped it, pulling hard. It slid free. A knife. A heavy-bladed survival knife, serrated near the hilt.
Relief was a fleeting warmth in the icy dark. She kicked upwards, lungs screaming. As she neared the surface, more roots brushed her face, her arms. Another hard, smooth shape grazed her knuckle. More teeth. She kicked harder, breaking the surface with a ragged, sucking gasp, gulping the stale air. She tread water, clutching the knife handle so tightly her knuckles ached, scanning the black water.
Nothing. Just ripples from her own movement. The dock was a dark shape ten feet away.
Then, a muffled thump, a violent churning of water. Off to her right. Near the deepest shadows under the boathouse, where the dock met the far wall.
She kicked towards it, the knife held awkwardly in front of her like a talisman. The water swirled ahead. Shapes. Two figures tangled in the murk just below the surface. One large, struggling violently – Jace. The other, clinging to him, pulling him down – a darker, bulkier shape, face obscured by shadow and swirling silt. The killer. Using the roots, the pilings, the water itself to drag Jace deeper. Jace fought, but his movements were weakening, hampered by his soaked leather jacket, the cold, the wound Kate had given him. His face, turned upwards for a split second, was pale, lips blue, eyes wide and unfocused.
"Jace!" Kate choked, spitting out water. The killer’s head snapped towards her sound. Even in the gloom, she saw the glint of eyes. Recognition? Hatred? He released one hand from Jace, pushing off the piling to turn towards her. His movements in the water were disturbingly fluid, powerful. He’d been waiting. Hunting. In his element.
He surged towards her, a dark shape parting the black water like a shark. Kate froze, terror locking her limbs. The knife felt heavy, alien in her hand. Stab. Slash. Do something! The killer closed the distance fast, arm reaching. Not for a weapon. To grab. To pull her under.
Instinct screamed. Not fight. Flight. She kicked backwards hard, almost submerging herself. The killer’s grasping hand swept through the water inches from her face. She flailed, trying to put space between them, the knife held out in a useless, defensive gesture. She bumped hard against a piling. Trapped. The killer turned, ready to lunge again.
A shape erupted from the water behind the killer. Jace, a guttural roar tearing from him, water spraying. He slammed into the killer's back, wrapping his good arm around the man’s thick neck in a brutal chokehold. They went under in a violent tangle of limbs, churning the water white.
Kate stared, gasping, treading water. The surface boiled with the struggle. A fist broke the water. A choked gasp. A dark shape surged upwards – the killer, breaking Jace’s hold, twisting violently. He turned, not towards Jace now, but back towards Kate. His face, illuminated for a terrifying instant by the dim light filtering down, was a ruin – swollen, jaw misaligned, one eye nearly shut. Jace’s work in the alley. But the other eye burned with pure, feral malice. Fixed on her. He started towards her again, slower this time, deliberate, cutting off her path to the dock. Cornering her against the pilings.
Jace surfaced behind him, coughing, water streaming down his face. He saw Kate, trapped. Saw the killer advancing on her. His exhaustion vanished, replaced by something feral. "Kate! The knife!" he bellowed, his voice shredded. "Give it here!"
The killer was five feet away. Three. His good eye locked onto the knife in her trembling hand. He paused, gauging. Then lunged, not for her, but for the weapon. Kate reacted without thought. Pure, terrified reflex. She didn’t thrust. She didn’t aim. She slashed wildly in front of her as he closed in, a desperate, sweeping arc.
The heavy blade connected. Not deep. Not fatal. But it sliced across the killer’s reaching forearm, through the sleeve of his dark jacket. A dark cloud billowed instantly in the water. Blood. He jerked back with a muffled, furious grunt, clutching his arm. Surprise flickered in his good eye, then renewed rage.
"Jace!" Kate screamed, throwing the knife towards him with all her failing strength. It wasn’t a throw; it was a desperate fling. The knife arced through the air, spinning, landing with a splash a foot from where Jace tread water.
The killer turned, snarling, towards the splash. Towards Jace. Forgetting Kate for a crucial second.
Jace didn’t hesitate. He dove under the surface, disappearing.
The killer scanned the water where Jace vanished, then whipped his head back towards Kate, his expression promising slow, drowning death. He took a powerful stroke towards her.
A hand shot out of the water directly beneath him. Jace’s hand. It clamped onto the killer’s ankle with brutal force, yanking him violently downward. The killer vanished, pulled under with barely a splash, leaving only a swirl of disturbed, blood-tinged water.
Kate stared, trembling, at the spot where they’d both disappeared. The knife was gone. Jace was gone. The killer was gone. The water slowly stilled. Silence descended, broken only by her own frantic gasps and the relentless drip from the rotting ceiling.
She tread water, frozen with terror, scanning the black surface. Seconds stretched into an eternity. Ripples. Then nothing.
A hand broke the surface ten feet away, clutching feebly at the air. Jace’s hand. His head followed, gasping, choking. He was alone. He struggled weakly, barely keeping his face above water, eyes unfocused, scanning wildly until they found her.
"Kate…" It was a wet, desperate rasp. "Get… out…"
Behind him, the water bulged.
"Get… out…"
Behind him, the water bulged. It wasn't just a ripple. It was a dark, silent swell, pushing upwards like something massive breaching from the depths. The surface tension broke.
The killer’s head exploded from the black water mere inches behind Jace’s struggling form. Water streamed from matted hair plastered across a grotesquely swollen face – jaw skewed, one eye a purple slit, the other wide and blazing with feral rage. He didn't roar. He didn't waste breath. One thick, powerful arm, clad in waterlogged dark fabric, snaked around Jace’s throat from behind, cutting off his choked warning. The other hand clamped onto Jace’s wounded shoulder, fingers digging brutally into the ragged tear Kate’s nails had made hours before.
Jace’s gasp became a strangled gurgle. His eyes bulged, locking onto Kate’s across the few feet of churning water. Pain and terror warred in them. He clawed weakly at the vise-like forearm crushing his windpipe, his boots kicking uselessly beneath the surface.
"No!" The scream ripped from Kate's raw throat, more primal sound than word. Panic threatened to drown her. He’s killing him. Right now. The freezing water suddenly felt like cement around her limbs. Her gaze darted frantically – the dock was too far, the knife gone, submerged somewhere in the murk. Her eyes snagged on the glint near the piling.Teeth. Gleaming faintly in the disturbed silt.Proof. Useless now.
The killer hauled Jace backwards, deeper into the shadows beneath the overhanging dock. Water surged over Jace’s head again. He bucked violently, a dying animal’s thrash. The killer grunted, adjusting his grip, his good eye flicking towards Kate. That look wasn't hatred anymore. It was calculation. Possession. She was next. Cornered. Prey.
Adrenaline, thick and electric, burned through the paralyzing cold. Move or he dies. Then you die. Kate didn't think about the teeth, the cold, the killer’s ruined face. She thought of Jace’s choked gasp, the raw terror she’d seen before he vanished the first time. She drew a ragged, ice-cold breath and plunged under.
The world vanished into silt-choked darkness and crushing cold. She kicked hard, propelling herself blindly towards the thrashing shadows beneath the dock. Her hand brushed slimy wood, then fabric. Denim.A leg. She shoved past it. Her fingers found leather. An arm. Jace’s? Too thick. The killer’s.
She recoiled, then lunged again, deeper into the tangle. Her hand closed on wet hair. Short, rough. Jace. He was facedown, limp now, the killer’s arm still locked around his throat, pinning him against a massive piling. The killer was using the structure as leverage, his back braced against the submerged wood, crushing the life out of Jace.
Kate clawed at the killer’s forearm. Her nails scraped leather, skin. He barely flinched. She hammered her fist against his shoulder, his ribs. Useless. Like hitting stone. Desperation choked her. Her lungs screamed for air. His face. The eye. She remembered the shattered jaw, the pain Jace had inflicted in the alley.
She scrabbled upwards, fingers finding the ruin of his cheek. She jammed her thumb, hard as she could, into the swollen, bruised socket of his half-closed eye.
A muffled, guttural roar vibrated through the water, a sound of pure, sudden agony. The arm around Jace’s throat spasmed, loosening its death grip. Jace’s body went slack, drifting slightly away from the piling. The killer twisted violently, his free hand lashing out blindly, catching Kate a glancing blow on the temple that sent stars exploding behind her eyes. She kicked backwards, disoriented, gulping water as she instinctively gasped. She broke the surface, coughing, spitting, vision blurring.
The killer surged up beside her, roaring now, a raw, animal sound of fury and pain. Water sluiced off him. He clutched his damaged eye with one hand, blood mingling with the lake water on his cheek. The other hand reached for her, huge and grasping. "Bitch!" he spat, the word distorted by his broken jaw, spraying bloody spittle. "Gonna carve you slow!"
Kate flailed backwards, kicking frantically, trying to put the bulk of the piling between them. Her back slammed into submerged roots. Trapped again. His good eye, bloodshot and insane, fixed on her. He lunged.
He lunged. Water surged as his bulk crashed through the space where Kate had been a heartbeat before. She’d kicked sideways, scraping her shoulder raw against barnacle-crusted pilings. The freezing shock jolted her. He recovered fast, pivoting in the churning water, his good eye narrowed to a hateful slit. Blood diluted pink around his ruined face.
"Should've stayed scared," he rasped, the words thick and wet, distorted by the broken jaw. He spat crimson phlegm. "Now you get the slow show." He surged forward again, arms wide, aiming to pin her against the unforgiving wood.
Kate ducked under, kicking hard towards the deeper gloom beneath the dock. Roots snagged her shirt. Her lungs burned. She surfaced gasping, closer to the center, away from the pilings. Jace’s limp form drifted nearby, face down, disturbingly still. The killer tracked her movement, ignoring Jace now. Prey was moving.
"Where you gonna run, little bait?" he mocked, his voice a gurgle. He tread water effortlessly, a predator conserving energy. "Out there?" He jerked his head towards the vast, open lake beyond the boathouse entrance. "Cold'll kill you faster'n me." He started closing the gap, deliberate, relentless strokes. "Come here."
Panic clawed at Kate’s throat. The dock was too far. Jace was gone. The knife was lost. Her limbs felt leaden, sapped by cold and terror. She kicked backwards, keeping distance. Her gaze darted past the killer, searching the murky water near Jace. Anything. A rock. A broken plank. Nothing but dark water and the faint, horrifying gleam of teeth caught in the roots near the surface.
He was almost within grabbing distance. Five feet. Three. His good eye locked onto hers, devoid of anything human. Kate took a desperate breath, ready to dive again, hoping to dodge beneath him. As she sucked in air, he exploded forward in a final, powerful lunge.
His hand shot out. Not towards her arms or body. Fingers, thick and strong as roots, tangled violently in the wet mess of her hair near her temple. He yanked.
Pain seared across Kate's scalp. A choked scream tore from her as her head snapped back. Water flooded her mouth. Her feet left the murky bottom. Instinctively, her hands flew up, scrabbling, nails digging into the leathery skin of his wrist as he hauled her upwards and backwards. Her body thrashed wildly, uselessly, against his immovable strength.
"Get OFF ME!" she shrieked, the sound raw and echoing in the rotting cavern of the boathouse. Her legs kicked at empty water. He ignored her struggles, dragging her effortlessly towards the deeper shadows near the wall, away from the faint moonlight, his grip on her hair an anchor of pure agony. Her scream dissolved into ragged, panicked gasps, her hands clamped onto his wrist like a drowning woman clinging to rock, knowing it was pulling her under.
Her scream dissolved into ragged, panicked gasps, her hands clamped onto his wrist like a drowning woman clinging to rock, knowing it was pulling her under. He hauled her backwards through the freezing water, relentless, her feet dragging uselessly through the murk. The boathouse gloom receded as he pulled her towards the gaping entrance, the vast, indifferent expanse of the black lake opening before them under the cold stare of the moon.
"Stop... please..." she choked, the plea swallowed by the wet smack of water against his legs. He ignored her, his grip on her hair a searing brand of agony. Her scalp felt torn, blood mingling with the lake water dripping into her eyes. The skeletal trees lining the shore blurred past as he dragged her through the shallows, his boots crunching on gravel.
Then solid ground. Muddy, cold earth beneath her. He released her hair only to grab a fistful of her soaked sleep shirt, hauling her fully onto the narrow, rocky shoreline beyond the boathouse. She landed hard on her back, the impact knocking the air from her lungs in a painful wheeze. Before she could even suck in a breath, his crushing weight was on her.
"Thought you were clever?" he snarled, his ruined face inches from hers, spittle flecking her skin. The stench of lake decay, mud, and his own coppery blood was overpowering. His one good eye burned with a feverish, animalistic light. "Sticking your fingers where they don't belong?" He pinned her wrists above her head with one massive hand, his other fumbling at his belt.
Kate bucked wildly beneath him, a surge of raw panic lending her frantic strength. Her knee connected hard with his thigh, but the waterlogged denim absorbed the blow. "Get OFF!" she shrieked, twisting her head, trying to bite the hand holding her wrists. He just grunted, pinning her more firmly. The cold mud seeped through her thin shirt, chilling her spine. Her thigh tattoos felt like targets pressed into the earth.
He didn't pull down his pants. His hand emerged from his belt, not with skin, but with steel. The knife was short, thick-bladed, utilitarian. It caught the moonlight, glinting coldly. Recognition flickered – not the knife Jace had retrieved, but another. His own. "Shoulda stayed scared," he rasped again, the words thick and wet. He brought the blade down, not in a slash, but a brutal, focused jab. Straight into her side, just below her ribs.
Pain detonated. A white-hot supernova exploding outward from the point of impact, shredding nerves, locking muscles, vaporizing thought. A sound tore from her throat – not a word, not a scream, but a raw, animal shriek that echoed across the silent lake, shattering the night. Her body arched violently off the ground, every muscle rigid with agony, her vision whiting out at the edges. The cold air hit the wound like acid.
He twisted the blade slightly before yanking it free. A fresh wave of torment crashed over her, stealing her scream, leaving only choked, wet gasps. Blood, shockingly warm against her icy skin, bloomed across her ruined shirt, vivid red on soaked grey cotton. She saw stars, heard a roaring in her ears. Her hands, freed when he drew the blade, rose feebly, fingers clawing at the air near his face, nails scratching weakly at the leather of his jacket collar. It was like trying to push down a mountain.
"Pathetic," he spat, watching her struggle. With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, he tossed the blood-slicked knife aside. It landed in the mud with a soft thud, just out of her reach. Before her fogged brain could register its location, his freed hand shot out. Thick, mud-streaked fingers, impossibly strong, wrapped around her throat. They squeezed, cutting off her ragged gasp.
Pressure. Immense, crushing pressure slammed her head back into the mud. The world narrowed to the burning ache in her side and the vise tightening on her windpipe. He adjusted his weight, knees digging into her thighs, pinning her completely. His face filled her fading vision – the swollen, broken mask, the single, hate-filled eye glinting with obscene satisfaction. He leaned closer, his breath hot and rank against her cheek. "Look at me," he gurgled, his fingers tightening further. "Look at me while you go."
Dark spots bloomed behind her eyes. The roaring in her ears intensified. Her feeble scratching slowed, her hands falling limply to the cold mud beside her head. Her lungs screamed for air that couldn't come. The cold stars above began to dim. The last thing she saw clearly was the knife, gleaming dully in the moonlight a foot away, and beyond it, the dark, still water of the lake where Jace’s body drifted.