He sighed as he watched the jeep go by, the girl’s long blonde hair snaking out the top, both of them yelling and laughing. Oblivious. Another young couple, ignoring all the warning signs, heading for the secluded, private section of the lake that had been closed off for decades. No matter how uninviting they made the road look, how many signs they put up, how many people disappeared each year from the area … still they came.

Hoping against hope that the tree they had downed across the road would make the couple turn around, he waited. When the jeep didn’t come back, he sighed again and called the ranger. Fifteen minutes later he had his truck bed loaded with large plastic bins, and a towing trailer attached. He didn’t acknowledge the three figures that materialized out of the tree line and approached his truck. The only sounds were the thumping of the truck doors opening and shutting.

They drove in silence until they reached the tree blocking the road. There were obvious ruts to the right where the jeep had gone up an embankment to get around the tree. He veered the truck to the left, passing through what seemed to be an impassable area covered in brush but was actually a hidden road.

The ranger met them at the end of the path, the somber look on his face telling him all he needed to know. The men exchanged grim looks. Though they’d done this dozens of times, it took its toll. They waited. About 15 minutes later they heard the first scream. The female. Then the male. Bloodcurdling, desperate screams that seemed to last a lifetime. Finally they died down to hoarse, guttural moans ending abruptly with a large splash. Silence washed over the woods.

They waited another 30 minutes before carefully approaching the only clearing that bordered the lake in this area. The destruction was breathtaking. Slowly and silently they began their work, the ranger keeping an intent watch over the lake. It took almost two hours to clean up the mess, get the Jeep on the trailer, and all the belongings into the plastic bins. Every now and then there would be a small splash and the group would freeze.

There was really no need, according to the rules and rites passed down through generations, the creature only attacked those who willfully ignored the warnings and approached the entry to its underwater lair. Still, it was unnerving being this close.

Once they were done the ranger gave a slight nod and began walking back up the trail towards his cabin. The others returned to the truck. The final duty was his and his alone. He shoveled dirt and sand and rocks until there wasn’t a spot of blood or gore left visible in the area. Once he was satisfied he leaned tiredly against the shovel, looking out at the water. About 40 feet out the glassy surface began to ripple and a lone tentacle broke the surface. Tendrils trailed from it, lined with razor sharp hooks and claws, almost like it was wearing strings of barbed wire. It lazily shook back and forth in a horrific mock wave before gliding back under the water.

Shivering he turned away, throwing the shovel over his shoulder and trudging back to his truck. They still had to get rid of the car and belongings before he could go home, shower, and try to drown today’s events with whiskey. He needed to rest while he could. Summer was almost upon them and that was their busy season.