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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Froglich on 2024-11-10 15:57:59+00:00.

My grandmother, when she was alive, lived on an old farm on the side of a hill in a remote village in northern Sweden, right next to a beautiful lake surrounded by mountains. Whenever we were there, we would spend all day swimming or fishing for perch and crayfish. Grandmother was however always very assertive that we must never get out on the lake during the night, though she never gave us any reason. I always assumed she worried that something would happen while no one was around to help.

Of course, time passes, and last year so did my grandmother. My grandfather died when I was very young, so my grandmothers passing left the house empty, and neither my mother nor any of her siblings were interested in moving out to the middle of nowhere. I, on the other hand, work remotely most of the time, and even though I don’t really expect to work the land, the solitude sounded quite appealing. Along with the house itself, I inherited furniture, a tractor, some old farming equipment, and, of course, the small wooden rowing boat we would use whenever we were visiting.

I had a single neighbour, a strange old man named Lennart, who lived in a small cottage further up the hill across the road from me. He mostly liked to keep to himself, but I had offered to let him use the boat if he wanted to do some fishing, and to help out with clearing snow during the winter.

One night after I had finally settled in, and was mostly unpacked, I stood by the window in my bedroom looking out over the lake. The moon was peaking out over the mountain opposite, and cast a beautiful glow on the still water. Suddenly, I was reminded of my grandmothers warnings not to go out on the lake during the night. Curiosity got the better of me, and I made my way down to the boat house.

As I made my way down to the lake, I heard footsteps, and a voice calling out behind me. Startled, I turned around to see Lennart. He seemed flustered and asked me, almost accusingly, why I was going down to the boat house at this hour. Confused, and a little annoyed at his sudden intrusion, I told him that I felt like taking the boat out for a little midnight trip since this was such a beautiful night. He insisted that going out on the lake during the night was unsafe! Had my grandmother not warned me?

In hindsight, I feel extremely childish about this, but his insistence just made me more motivated. I told him that I was fully aware of the risks of taking a boat out at night, but that I was a grown adult and capable of making my own decisions. Lennart grumbled, and I could tell that he was still very agitated, but he relented and with a grunt and a dismissive wave, started making his way back up the hill.

I pushed my boat out on the water and jumped in. The water was very still, and the combination of the moonlight, and almost complete absence of any sounds made for an incredibly soothing experience. I settled around the middle of the lake, perhaps 300 meters from the shore. At this point, I could see most of the houses in the village, and the neighbouring village. Looking over toward my house, I suddenly realised that Lennarts cottage was entirely dark. He usually had some lights on in the windows, so that was certainly odd, but I could only assume that he had blown a fuse.

Around me, the stillness of the water was disturbed by bubbles. Before I knew it, the water was filled with frenzied activity, and with a lurch, the boat suddenly started moving back toward the shore. I was moving significantly faster than my rowing had taken me out onto the lake, and I was holding on for dear life. I worried I would crash into the boat house, but whatever pushed my boat along navigated it safely back to the spot where I would normally keep it moored and it slid softly back on to land. I stood up, scared and confused, and looked around.

Three dark and bloated silhouettes emerged from the water. In the moonlight, they looked almost like soldiers in gillie suits, but they clearly wore no diving equipment. They approached swiftly, and grabbed me. The creatures smelled vaguely of fish and decaying vegetation, and they spoke in a language I could not comprehend. I managed to make out a single word that was repeated multiple times: “mermolgard.”

They dragged me inside the boat house. One of them looked me dead into the eyes and covered my mouth as it made a gargled hushing sound. It’s face was clearly not human, with bulging eyes without eyelids, two slits in place of a nose and no visible ears. I realised it was in fact not wearing anything. However, its leathery dark brown skin seemed to mimik the appearance of decaying leaves. Of course, I was scared nearly out of my mind at this point, but for some reason I didn’t attempt to flee. The creatures seemed almost as scared as I was. So, I complied and kept quiet. They turned off the lights and settled down around me.

We waited in there for what felt like an eternity, but was most likely only a couple of minutes. The silence outside was suddenly broken by a loud splash and the sound of wood splintering. I could hear that something was emerging from the lake, followed by heavy, damp footsteps. From what I could tell, it seemed to be moving up the hill as the footsteps were getting more and more distant. As I sat in that boat house, my senses tuned to max by all of the adrenaline coursing through my body, the sounds of breaking glass and splintering wood reached us. Eventually the footsteps returned, and whatever had come after us out of the lake made its way back into the water.

A couple of minutes later, the three creatures that brought me into the boat house quietly exchanged a few words. The one that had hushed me earlier gestured that I was free to leave, and then they left. I could hear them going back into the water. I fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor as my adrenaline abated and the fear truly set in. I didn’t move from that spot until the following morning.

My house looked like a crime scene. The front door, along with its frame, had been torn out of the wall and lay several meters away on my lawn. Most of my windows and furniture was in pieces, and pools of water dotted the floor throughout the house.

Lennart clearly knew more about the creatures that live in the lake. I resented that he hadn’t been more forceful in stopping me from going out with the boat. However, logically I knew I wouldn’t have believed him if he had started going on about monsters, and what was he supposed to do? Nevertheless, I marched over to his cottage and banged on the door until he eventually opened it. He seemed both surprised and relieved that I was standing there and he offered me a cup of coffee and an explanation.

The lake is inhabited by a creature known as Mermolgard and creatures known as the Vattnora. Generally, they live together in piece, but they have very different opinions on us humans. Lennart and my grandmother used to spend time with the Vattnora, and they understood some of their language. Their word for human roughly translates as “foolish ones.” They say that humanity are not mature and they mostly settle with observing us. Mermolgard is an ancient creature that sleeps during the day and hunts at night. He is resentful of humanity for settling around his lake, eating his fish, and disturbing the darkness of the night with artificial lights.

I still live in my grandmothers old house, Lennart has promised to introduce me to the Vattnora, in their own time. I feel an obligation to thank them, and to protect others from Mermolgard. I will never go out on the lake during the night again, but I feel strangely safe to do so during the day.