He shot toward the surface, lungs screaming. When he finally broke the water, the sun was setting. He scrambled onto the shore, gasping, and looked back at the lake.
Panicked, he checked his oxygen gauge. It was dropping rapidly, far faster than possible. He turned to leave, but the front door was no longer open. In the window, he saw a reflection that wasn't his: an old man sitting in a rocking chair, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the water to stop rising.
The village of Aris used to be famous for its mirror-like lake, but nobody swims there anymore. They say that when the water is perfectly still, you can see the red clay tiles of a rooftop shimmering thirty feet below the surface. La casa in fondo al lago
On the wall hung a massive grandfather clock. Its hands were frozen at 12:06.
Should we add a where Luca finds something in his pocket from the house, or He shot toward the surface, lungs screaming
The water turned from golden green to a bruised purple as he descended. Then, out of the silt, it appeared. The house was perfectly preserved, untouched by rot or currents. It sat on the lake floor as if waiting for a Sunday guest.
Luca swam through the open front door. His flashlight beam cut through the dark, resting on a wooden table where a porcelain cup sat, still upright. He moved toward the back room, his flints echoing strangely in the pressurized silence. Panicked, he checked his oxygen gauge
The water was a perfect mirror again. He looked at his wrist to check the time, but his waterproof watch had stopped. The hands were frozen at exactly 12:06.