Moonlit Novella

Chapter Six – Part One

Ivy lingered at the edge of the crime scene, the buzz of police radios and clipped conversations swirling around her.

Nathaniel Carr was missing.

A man in his early forties. Last seen two nights ago. No signs of struggle, no obvious leads. The only indication was a slick of blood pooling in the alley behind the general store; dark and glistening beneath the flickering streetlights. The scent of damp asphalt and iron clung to the air.

The officers spoke in low voices, their movements sharp and efficient, but the tension in their eyes told a different story.

Chief Mercer stood near the barricade, his broad frame cutting an imposing silhouette against the flashing lights. He had been careful with his words, deliberate in what he gave away.

No signs of a body. No witnesses. No clear indication of what had happened.

But Ivy saw the way his jaw tightened when he spoke. The way his hazel eyes flickered behind each word.

He knew more than he was saying.

She walked away before she could press further, before Mercer decided she was more trouble than she was worth. But the unease in her gut twisted tighter with every step she took.

This was too familiar.

Her sister, Lily, had vanished in the middle of the night. No trace. No struggle. Just gone. Ivy had relived that night more times than she could count, trying to piece together a truth that no one else seemed to believe existed. The spiraling thoughts were never ending. And now, standing here, watching the police scramble for a rational explanation, she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had happened in that alley was the same kind of wrong.

She glanced back at Mercer.

The flashing blue and red lights cast sharp shadows across his face.

There was something about him that drew her in.

It was in the way he carried himself, with that quiet weight behind his eyes.

She had the distinct impression that he didn’t trust easily.

And she wasn’t sure what it meant that he had given her anything at all.

---

The streets of Ashford Hollow were empty as Ivy walked along the downtown pier, overlooking the lake. The town had gone still, its shops shuttered, its windows dark. The glow of the streetlights barely cut through the thick press of night.

Passed the hazy mist, the water called to her.

It wasn’t the kind of beach that drew crowds, just a quiet stretch of damp sand and weather-worn docks. The lake stretched out before her like a sheet of black glass beneath the moonlight.

Ivy sat near the water’s edge, digging her fingers into the cool grains of sand. She let out a slow breath, watching the way the ripples shifted and broke the reflection of the moon.

Lily had loved the water.

Ivy could still see her: barefoot, laughing, wading out until the waves kissed her knees.

“You’re going to freeze!“ Ivy had called from the shore, hugging her sweater tighter.

Lily had only grinned, spinning slowly in the shallows, arms spread wide like she could hold the whole lake in her hands.

“It’s perfect,” she had said, tilting her head back toward the sky. “You never feel more alive than when you’re standing right at the edge of something bigger than you.”

That was Lily. Fearless. Wild. Always chasing the feeling of something just out of reach.

But then, her expression had shifted.

She looked at Ivy with a glint of mischief, but something beneath it was quieter.

“Did you know Nightcrawlers are drawn to water?”

Ivy frowned. “Like worms?”

Lily smirked but didn’t laugh. “No, not those. The ones that steal people.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Another ghost story?”

Lily’s gaze lingered on the water, her expression hidden. “I heard a story about the lake up north. A boy went missing there years ago. Some say he wandered too far from the shore. Others say he saw something in the water, something with long fingers and black eyes that lured him past the shallows. They never found his body.”

A chill swept over Ivy’s skin.

She wanted to brush it off, to remind Lily that she was always saying weird things like this, but something about her tone, about the way she spoke: so calm, so certain. That had unsettled her.

“And what, you think one of those things is in the lake with you now?”

Lily tilted her head, thoughtful. “I think if one lake can hold something like that, why not another?”

Ivy scoffed, but the unease had already sunk into her bones.

The air felt different now, heavier. The same lake that had seemed calm and endless only moments ago now felt… deeper.

“You’re being weird.”

Lily grinned again, like she’d never said anything strange at all. “Maybe.”

Now, sitting on the shore of this lake, Ivy could still hear her sister’s voice.

She let her gaze drift across the water, her pulse slowing as she listened to the gentle lap of waves against the sand. She tried to let the quiet settle her, to let the weight in her chest ease.

But then she felt it.

The unmistakable prickling at the back of her neck.

The heaviness in the air, winding around her throat.

She wasn’t alone.

Slowly, Ivy turned her head, scanning the treeline behind her, the empty docks, the long stretch of beach.

Nothing.

Still, the sensation didn’t fade. It burrowed deep beneath her skin, a quiet pressure, like something was waiting for her to move.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the sand.

The lake stretched out before her, vast and tranquil.

Maybe Lily had been right, that Nightcrawlers did live in the water.

Maybe there was something in it watching her back now.