Them Eyes Down In The Lake by Zebulon Patchin – Mostly Disturbing Fables

“It ain’t every night I see them eyes staring up at me from the lake. Lil’ black and white marbles glaring my way, Lord knows what they want.” The man said to me with a bewildered look on his face. “I am not sure there really are eyes in that lake, Mo.” I replied, tugging on my collar. IT’S ALWAYS SO DAMN HOT IN THIS OFFICE. “No sir, it doesn’t matter what you think they are there always looking at me.” He shifted uncomfortably in the leather-bound black sofa. “When did you first start seeing the eyes?” I asked in a soft tone, hoping to soften the tension in the room. OF COURSE ANOTHER SCHIZO, WHY DO I GET ALL THE CRAZIES. WHY NOT A HORNY DIVORCED SUPERMODEL? “First time I’d seen umm, well I took my boat out after work ‘bout five years ago. I was going catfishing, they only bite after sunset.” Mo said scratching at his waxy ear. He continued. “I thought it was a bunch of frog eyes staring up at me, them damn frogs always sit just below the water.” I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FROGS, JUST GET ON WITH IT SO I CAN PRESCRIBE YOU LOONEY PILLS, PLEASE! That was the first session of many with Mo. He was a classic case of schizophrenia. But with a twist, late onset and I mean very late. “Well honestly I’ve been back down at the lake watching them eyes watch me.” Mo’s expression was dull and glazed over. NO SHIT MAN, THAT’S ALL YOU DO! “I would like to take a closer look at your past, get a better understanding of how you lived your life. When did you stop working?” Mo sat in silence, as if pondering a deep philosophical question. “Must be about five or so years now.” “What did you do for work?” PROBABLY SHOVELING SHIT FOR THE PIG FACTORY. “I used to drive the school bus for McElmor, man those were the days. I never had a wife or kids so seeing them kids laughing and playing always made my day. That was until I told one of them bastard teachers about them eyes down in the lake.” His dull eyes filled with life, the presence of a grin formed on his stubbly gray face. “Ever since I’ve been down at the lake, I cry, you know? ‘Bout leaving them kids behind. The guilt just builds up when I sit around for too long.” His eyes filled with tears. “That’s our time for today, remember I am going on vacation next week so you won’t have an appointment.” THANK GOD A WEEK WITHOUT HEARING ABOUT GOVERNMENT PLOTS TO MICROWAVE PEOPLE WITH SECRET INVISIBLE LASER BEAMS. “Ok doc, thanks for believin’ in me.” I nodded and concluded the session by ushering him out of the office. I was relaxing at home, sleeping in, and hanging with the wife. It was a perfect getaway from work until I got an email from Mo!
Sender: mothebusdriver@gotmail.com
Subject: doc I have proof
sorry to bother ya at home I went out to the lake last night and took a photo of them eyes down in the lake here is the picture what do ya think?
The picture was mostly black, a few shiny specks dotted the black. It was impossible to work out what exactly I was looking at from the terrible lighting. IT WAS FUCKING FROGS! My wife grabbed the phone out of my hand. “Nope, no work today mister.” Back in the office, first client for the day, the Frog Man Mo. “You saw the picture right Doc? Them eyes down in the lake staring right into my soul. I told you they are real!” Mo’s voice indicated instability, he was on the verge of a full blown episode. “I saw them, the picture was quite blurry but they looked like fish eyes to me. I suggest you take a break from the lake for a few days.” My voice was almost a whisper, a technique that was taught in college to help bring down a psychotic episode. “Fish? No Doc, fish don’t blink these eyes blinked. Like human eyes. They are real, I swear on it” He lowered his head, he was talking quietly. THE POOR FUCKING GUY WAS COMPLETELY CONVINCED THIS WAS REAL. “I agree they are real, but I think there is a normal explanation for this. What is the name of this lake?” “Marabou Lake, it’s up right next Kitsville. The school I used to work for isn’t far from it, I drove by the lake on my route. That was before them eyes down in the lake first started showin’ up.” YES, I KNOW WE HAVE BEEN OVER THIS A FEW TIMES. “Here is the deal Mo, I think that the eyes are real but nothing paranormal. Was there any kind of extreme stress you experienced around the time you first started seeing the eyes?” I asked him directly, hoping it would kick his brain into gear. “No, sir. Well… maybe, I got in a crash around that time. No, just a bit befor’ I started seeing them eyes down in the lake.” MAYBE IT’S BRAIN DAMAGE, THAT WOULD EXPLAIN A LOT. “That would do it. Was it in the bus? Was there anyone else in the vehicle?” I asked the questions rapid-fire, giving him no time to consider the memory further. “No, Sir. Thank God the bus was empty, I don’t think I’d forgive myself if them kids was hurt. Just me and a big concrete divider. I caught the bus on fire, it burned to the ground. Took them a few days to get a new bus for me to drive.” He grinned a little, like he was cracking an unheard joke. “Yes, that would be traumatizing. I would like you to think about the crash and how it made you feel until our next session.”
Sender: mothebusdriver@gotmail.com
Subject: them eyes got faces
hi doc I got another picture of them eyes
down in the lake this time I caught their faces can you see it
The picture was much like the first but with an exception, he must have been shining a flashlight at the eyes. I could see a bright circle of glare on the black water, in the center of the circle was a pair of pale blurry eyes. Although very hard to tell from the low quality picture, indeed the eyes were attached to a ghastly face. I could see the nose, cheeks, and even some hair on the spectral head. FUCK ME, IF THAT IS AN OPTICAL ILLUSION IT’S A GOOD ONE. I needed to see this for myself, there has to be an explanation for it.
I headed to the lake at about six p.m., armed with my digital camera and the brightest flashlight I own. It wasn’t quite dark when I arrived at the sandy beach parking lot. The lake was still and no animals could be heard. I walked slowly along the beach, looking out at the darkening lake. I found a spot on the beach where the sand had long parallel drag marks from boats getting sent off into the lake. I stared out imagining Mo, dragging his fishing boat out of the lake after hanging out with them eyes down in the lake. The stillness of the lake teased me, no eyes, not a damn thing but water. WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS I DOING OUT HERE? DID I BELIEVE MO? OF COURSE NOT, I WAS HERE TO PROVE HIM WRONG, TO GIVE HIM SOME CLOSURE SO HE COULD MOVE ON WITH HIS PATHETIC LIFE. These thoughts consumed my mind and I suppose I must’ve stopped focusing on what my eyes could see.
“Help us!” The voice was sharp and breathy, I instantly snapped out of my contemplative trance. At first I didn’t understand what was happening… At the edge of the now gently wiggling surface of the water, staring up at me, the eyes. There was no way in hell those were frog eyes, the spacing was that of a human and I could sense the desperate pained soul behind them. “Hello?” I managed to whimper out into the cold water. The eyes drifted slowly forward, like an aimless piece of driftwood on a mission to anywhere or nowhere. A small pale hand rose from the water, its skin wore the wounds of decay only just preserved by the cold water. The hand clawed yearningly into the sand and rock, unbothered by the coarse grinding of rotten flesh on stone. Its body followed, placid and tiny the body of a girl no older than thirteen. Scraping along the shore by the one hand she had left, fingers bending in at odd angles under the pressure of her waterlogged mass. I stood frozen watching her grotesque display of locomotion, until she stopped right at my feet. Her face scrunched into a painful frown, tears fell from my eyes. I was overwhelmed by the deeply morose scene, her anguish was now my anguish. She opened her mouth, brownish-gray water poured out from within. She spoke, or at least she tried to. What came out was dreadful, the wet combination of the saddest wail and a laugh. My tears flowed uncontrollably and I wailed with her, stricken by the grief of this poor child.
I don’t remember anything after this, and I woke up in my bed with a debilitating migraine and a great sense of loss. A quick Google search of “Child Ghost Marabou Lake” led to nothing for the first few results. Until I happened upon a social media post from the town sheriff talking about a lot and I mean a lot of missing children over the last five years. It got so bad they brought in the FBI, but so far nothing has been released to the public. My stomach dropped, I had to go back. She was trying to tell me something, I might be the only person who knows.
Sender: mothebusdriver@gotmail.com
Subject: its getting worse doc
hey doc I was down at the lake last night I saw them eyes down in the lake but even worse I swear I saw something moving around on shore I dont think I can take much more of them eyes
The night was much like the first one quiet and still, no birds or any other sounds could be heard. I meandered slowly toward the spot where I met the specter child before, this time keeping an eye out for Mo. I made it roughly to the spot and started sweeping the still water with my flashlight. Along the shore I found long drag marks from where the girl had visited me. IT WAS FUCKING REAL! I felt the same feelings of cold lonely anguish wash over me, I sat frozen with emotion on the cold damp sand. The drag marks took on a new shape from my prone position. There was a pattern to them. The first shape was clearly an M and the second appeared to be an O, they clearly spelled MO. My stomach dropped as my brain recalled what he had said. “’bout five years ago.” The same time children started going missing, along his bus route. HE TOLD ME EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW! My thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching in behind me, and deep heavy breathing. “Doc, I wanted to tell you honest.” My body shriveled in fear, I turned to face the man who would kill me like he had the children of the lake. Before I could respond a cacophony of noise rose from the lake shore, like the very water itself was being evicted. A pile of rotten and twisted appendages clawed their way through the surface of the water. It was like a chilling night at some sort of undead water park. Mo fell backwards, whimpering to himself as if he was the victim. The children of the lake swarmed around him, all except for one. It was the girl from before but different. She was a normal smiling child now, she stared at me with reverence as the children of the lake dragged him kicking and screaming back into the water. “Thank you.” She giggled and without another word she turned back into her spectral corpse form and dove back into the lake ready to assist the others in helping Mo see the error of his ways. The lake went still once more and as if inspired by the show slow gentle waves began lapping over the sandy beaches, frogs began to sing and crickets chirped.
Once in a while folks out here report seeing a set of eyes, one set, eyes like that of a man.