It had been years since Cormac took Aveline out on the water. Named for his late grandmother, he was happy to honour the woman who raised him. Her passing hit him hard, but he felt it was time to let Aveline stretch her sails again.

A long-time resident of Lake Eldermire, his grandmother often spoke of fond memories and fun legends. Some were hokey, like the “Fish King” who used to rule the water, and if you looked at him too long, you’d become a fish.

Others she took more seriously. She often spoke of an old, rumoured village past the peninsula. Thornhaven, she called it. Her face lit up when she spoke of a “handsome and eccentric” man she met along the shore. An expression previously reserved for her late husband, she laughed sweetly while describing the charm of his trenchcoat and bowler hat. 

Upon her passing, Cormac vowed to find and inform her secret lover. But he couldn’t bring himself to board the vessel again until today. 

Breathing deeply, he set off and released the sails. Nostalgia tightened in his chest as he felt his grandmother’s calming presence. Although a cloud of fog sat atop the water, it remained calm. Cormac relaxed as the crisp air gently bit his cheeks, conjuring memories of fall sailing trips.

Picking up speed, he admired the distant outline of the jutting land. He’d been this way before but never noticed the docks of Thornhaven his grandmother described. Determined to see what she saw, though, he pressed on. 

A chill crept up his spine as he rounded the tip of the peninsula, thick fog now cloaking whatever lay ahead. Suddenly, loud, raucous music pierced the silence, its source hidden in the mist. His heart pounded as he squinted into the grey, searching for a clue.

Several moments passed before he spotted it - a single, narrow dock and a shore full of dancing, laughing people, thinly veiled by mist. Beaming, he turned Aveline and prepared to land. 

He jumped off the boat, eager to join the revelry. But his smile faltered as the laughter twisted into agonized wails, and the lively music turned into screams of terror. Stumbling down the street, he saw the ghostly figures weren’t dancing—but attacking. Bloodied, headless men hunted young female spectres. 

Turning back, his gaze locked onto a ghostly pair.

“Grandmother…” He choked out, falling to his knees. 

The image of Aveline faced him, eyes gaunt and hollow. Behind her, a figure appeared donning a long trenchcoat and cheesy bowler hat. Locking eyes with Cormac, the empty man brought a translucent knife to Aveline’s throat before tossing her into the lake for eternity. 

Smiling, he descended into the water, bound to repeat his kill forever. 

Cormac spun around, but Aveline and the decaying docks had vanished. In their place stood a beautiful woman with a broad, charming smile.

“Hi there,” she spoke in a most seductive voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet the newest resident of Thornhaven.” 

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