The Pond
Channel: Scary Stories
Date: 2022-11-23

The Pond

 Trent Persons stared with disgust at the black, stinking sludge that was just barely visible through the tangled underbrush. A vulgar odor hung heavy in the air, like a mixture between an old, soured cloth and a rotting carcass. His feet crunched the dense undergrowth as vines and thorns clawed at his face. As he slowly made his way forward, he realized that the noises he made as he cracked and crunched his way through the brush were the only sounds. No animals scampered through the underbrush, and no birds sang in the tall, dark trees that towered overhead. There was nothing except the occasional cracking of the sticks and branches under his feet like brittle old bones.

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Raising his arm to shield his face, he pushed through the final wall of brush and into the large clearing. His foot caught on a vine as he made his way into the clearing, and he stumbled forward. He grunted as he hit the ground on his knees. Rising slowly to his feet, he stared at the reason he had bought the property so cheaply.

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A large pond lay before him, surrounded closely on all sides by towering trees and dense underbrush. The pond was utterly black, a stagnant pool of sludge and water.

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*They're calling this an oil spill?* The thought was almost amusing. *More like a water spill in an oil pond.*

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The smell that arose from the pond made him sick. It didn't smell like oil.

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He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it under his nose. It did little to block the smell.

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The realtor had prattled gleefully as she showed him the house. “It’s in perfect condition”, she said warmly. “And out here in the country, but not too far from town, you have the best of both worlds! The foundation is in good repair, and you have a lot of yard.”

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Something had flickered in her eyes when she mentioned the backyard. Her speech had quickened as she pointed out more details about the little house. He didn’t care about the house. It was suitable, functional, and most importantly, far away from anything. She didn’t need to sell him on the house. He pretended to weigh the options for appearances sake. Cost didn’t matter, either. Just get it over with.

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But something caught his interest when she mentioned the backyard. “Is there anything special about the backyard?” he interrupted her running monologue.

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She choked on a word. The guarded look came back into her eyes. “Well, it’s fifteen acres, and as you can see, the five closest to the house have been cleared and are perfect for anything you decide to do with them. The remaining ten are beautiful woods. Perfect for walks and enjoying nature.

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Perfect. She kept using that word. It annoyed him. Nothing was perfect. Didn’t she know that? He forced his annoyance down. “Anything in the woods?”

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She paused again. “There is a pond, but nothing else.”

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“What about the pond?”

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Her shoulders slumped slightly. “Well actually, if there is anything wrong with this perfect little property, I suppose it would be the pond. It has been a hindrance in selling this place.” She raised a hand as if to brush aside any alarm. “Most of the people who looked at this house were families and it was for safety reasons that they didn’t buy the property because they didn’t want their children near open water. I mean, I have been told there is a bit of a bad smell nearby and apparently there was an oil spill there a long time ago so it isn’t the most beautiful spot on the property. But it’s way back in the farthest corner anyway. No one ever sees it! And you’re not the type to go jumping into ponds, now are you, Mr. Persons?” She forced a laugh.

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He forced one too. “No, I don’t think a pond is going to influence my decision.”

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She visibly brightened and with renewed energy, prattled on about every insignificant detail of the house.

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He endured it. Keeping appearances was all that mattered now.

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Now his eyes were scanning the pond. A rotting wooden dock lay off to one side. He walked toward it, working to keep his shoes dry. The brush grew right up to the water’s edge and he didn’t want to so much as touch the bottom of his shoe to the dark liquid.

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He glanced down. It was impossible to tell how deep the pond was, because even at the very edge of the shore the black water was opaque. Picking his way over to the dock, he leaped to the first board without touching the water. The plank creaked and groaned. Better not go any further.

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He heard the board groan again and the sound echoed the feeling in his soul as he had listened to the realtor talk about the house. She talked about everything: her kids, her life, her plans. Who cared? Just let me buy the house and be done with it! Is that too much to ask?

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Anger had surged within as he watched her makeup cake and her mouth work overtime. Why are some people so annoying? They wa