Dive
“This is beautiful,” Sonia said.
“I find it creepy,” Gianni said.
“Creepy?”
“Yes. Sorry, don’t look at me like that. I can’t help it. It’s happened to me since I was a kid.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ok, what do you see there?” Gianni pointed at the lake.
“A really nice lake, in a perfect day. The tower of the church in the middle of the lake.”
“There it is.”
“The tower?”
“Everything! This is not a lake, it’s a reservoir. Haven’t you noticed that reservoirs are always built so that a village gets drowned? Usually you don’t realize it unless there a severe drought, but sometimes… sometimes it’s like this. And it really doesn’t matter to me, because all I can think of is what’s below.”
“Below?”
“Yes, don’t you see? That’s the church belltower. It’s always the village’s highest point. Everything else is smaller. The church itself, the town hall. The houses where people used to live. The streets. All of it’s still down there, waiting.”
Gianni was staring at the water surface, as if he was expecting something to leap out and attack him.
“There’s nothing down there, silly. Some fish, possibly.”
“I couldn’t help it. Whenever I saw on of these when I was a kid, I thought… I thought of the last ones.”
“The last ones? Are you going all Lovecraft on me?”
“No. I always imagined there were a few people who didn’t leave, you know? When the dam was finished and the water levels rose. People, I was always told, were relocated. Sometimes the government would even build a new village on higher ground, or elsewhere. But someone was left behind. Someone refused to leave, and decided to stay. They would just sit on their favourite chair in their sitting room, and wait for the flood to come. The wardens of the village.”
Sonia looked at Gianni. He looked like he was seeing something else in the water. What it was, she couldn’t fathom.
“And yet you work as a police diver?”
“One has to earn his life,” Gianni said. “And I’ve always preferred the sea. Let’s go. There’s a dead body we have to find.”
The water was dark. Lakes were always darker than the sea, Gianni thought. He knew that was because he rarely went so deep in the sea. They could have searched the lake bottom using an autonomous robot, but it wasn’t the same. And, he had to confess to himself, he wouldn’t change a chance to dive for anything else.
The beam from Sonia’s electric torch crossed his. He stared at her. She signalled the church, and he nodded. Damn budgetary cuts. They should have been provided with underwater radios, but that was low priority now. Who needed to talk when people had been diving for centuries simply signalling?
They approached the church, Sonia swimming just in front of him. They scanned the area and looked this way and that. This was just a preliminary search; they’d need to mark the bottom and be thorough afterwards. But sometimes a diver might get lucky, and the crime suspects had been seen in their boat near the tower of the submerged church just days before: if the body was here they could be able to find it today. That would represent a giant step towards solving the murder.
Sonia’s beam faltered for a second. Gianni got closer and understood. A cross, then another. A statue of an angel. The cemetery. Gianni felt a chill. It was ridiculous, yes, but he couldn’t help it. He sighed. They had a job, and he signalled Sonia. She nodded and went right, and he went left. They’d meet at the other side of the church.
Gianni swam away, staring intently at the bottom. His peripheral sight caught a movement and he turned quickly that way. A trout scurried off so fast he almost missed it. He was on edge. He chuckled internally and went on. He didn’t see anything but stones, algae and a couple more fish.
Then he saw the light. That must be Sonia, but it seemed to come from within the church. Perhaps her light had crossed the chapel. Still, Gianni swam towards the closer windows and peeked inside.
He felt his blood freeze and his heart stop.
Two figures, a man and a woman dressed like a bride and groom, knelt on the first pew, intently staring forward, at the derelict altar. A third figure stood there, an open book in his hands. The third figure was dressed as a priest.
And it talked.
Gianni shook his head, but the figures remained there. He directed his torch towards them.
When the light touched the priest, he looked up. Gianni stared at his blank orbits, paralyzed. The priest raised an arm and pointed a bony finger at Gianni.
The groom and the bride turned around. Gianni saw more blank eyes, then his light glinted off sharp, pointed teeth. He felt Sonia’s arms grab him. He thanked God for her help.
But something was wrong. Sonia wasn’t helping him, she had him pinned down instead. Gianni craned his neck in desperation, trying to see what was going on. The last thing he saw was Sonia’s mouth gaping open, and her own sharp teeth.
~~~~
This is my accompanying entry for the Weekly Writing Exercise: September 18–24, 2017 at the Writer’s Discussion Group on Google+. I am responsible for creating the prompts for the Exercise, so I don’t take part, but I still like to write a story each week.
I’ve always been obsessed with towns flooded when reservoirs are built, so when I saw this photograph I knew I had to use it as a prompt. And at the same time I could let my obsession fly free.
