"So, we aren't just watching today," she said quietly.
David looked at his children.
"Stay close today. I didn't think it would be this bad."
The water in the bathtub rippled almost imperceptibly.
David stood at the edge of the tub, staring at the black water. His face slowly transformed; the concentration hardened into a look of steel.
"This is water filth," he said softly.
"Grindylow love places like this, abandoned houses by the water, damp basements, old wells. Never approach places with lots of standing water too quickly."
"They can topple a person in a second, drag them under, and start biting. They don't kill instantly; they can keep you captive until they've devoured you completely."
Ethan felt his stomach churn. He instinctively took a step back from the tub.
David straightened up abruptly.
"These creatures..." he repeated, as if tasting the word.
"Water creatures love to nest in abandoned houses. Quick! Get your silver daggers and salt!"
Gina instantly drew her dagger. Ethan hesitated for a moment before pulling his weapon out too; the silver blade gleamed in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the boards.
David was already pouring salt from a small pouch he always carried, creating a thin white line on the floor around them.
"Don't go closer than two meters to the water," he continued in a commanding tone.
"If you see movement in the water, back away immediately. They are fast, but they fear salt. Silver burns them. If they come at you, aim for the eyes and the maw."
The water in the tub barely formed a few rings. Small bubbles appeared on the surface, as if something were moving in the depths of the puddles.
Gina gripped her dagger tighter.
"How many could there be?" she asked tensely.
"I don't know," Father answered honestly. "But if this is a nest, there could be a whole brood. Stay together. Ethan, don't move a single step away from your sister."
"Okay..." Ethan barely managed to say.
They stood in the semi-dark bathroom of the abandoned cabin, daggers in hand and salt under their feet, and waited.
And the water in the tub continued slowly, almost playfully, to cover itself in tiny bubbles.
With trembling hands, Ethan pulled his dagger from the sheath on his belt. His fingers wouldn't cooperate; the silver blade clinked slightly against the edge of the scabbard.
His palms were slick with sweat, and his heart was hammering somewhere in his throat. He squeezed the handle tighter, trying to quell the shaking, but it only intensified.
Gina was already standing beside him. In one hand she held a short, well-sharpened knife; in the other, a pistol. Her eyes burned with a mix of excitement and fear.
"Stay close," she muttered softly, her eyes locked on the bathroom door.
From the bathroom came a quiet, almost playful splash. As if someone were slowly pouring water from one palm to another. The sound was viscous and unpleasant. It was followed by another soft thud.
New prints appeared on the wet floor of the hallway.
Small. Webbed feet with long, sharp claws. They led out of the bathroom and into the depths of the house in an uneven chain, as if a creature were prowling, stopping to listen. The tracks were fresh, as if someone had just passed between them.
David froze, raising his hand in a warning gesture.
"Don't move," he whispered almost soundlessly.
"They're already here."
Ethan felt an icy shiver run down his spine. He stared at those small but very distinct tracks and couldn't look away. Every new "slap" from the bathroom made his heart skip a beat.
Gina slowly raised her pistol, aiming it toward the bathroom.
Their father jerked his hand up, stopping the children.
"Don't step in the puddles. They feel the vibration. Ethan, watch the door to the outside. Gina, cover me; I'm going to check the bedroom."
Ethan nodded and quickly retreated to the front door, taking a position to the side. Gina stood slightly behind her father, pistol at the ready.
David took a cautious step forward down the hallway, the dagger in his hand gleaming in the weak light. The floor beneath his feet gave a treacherous creak.
And at that moment, a wet, squelching sound came from the toilet in the bathroom.
From the dark opening, a pale, thin hand slowly emerged, like something coming out of a black maw. The skin was a deathly green, with webbing stretched between long fingers.
The hand grabbed the edge of an old, moldy rug and began to pull itself up slowly. The creature wasn't particularly large,about the size of an adult's palm.
Gina didn't hesitate for a second. She raised her pistol and fired.
*Bang!*
The loud crack echoed through the cabin. The salt charge hit the hand directly. The thing shrieked, a high, piercing, inhuman scream that made Ethan's ears ring. The hand jerked, fingers clenching convulsively, leaving a black, oily slime on the rug before snapping back under the water.
A loud splash erupted in the bathroom. The black water in the toilet churned and bubbled, and for a moment, another thin limb appeared on the surface before vanishing.
Gina stood with her pistol ready.
"Drove one off..." she exhaled.
David didn't move, watching the bathroom intently.
"There are more of them," he said quietly.
"Many more, and we need to deal with this..."
Ethan stood by the door, gripping his pistol. Another wet splash came from the bathroom.
They were not alone.
David abruptly kicked the bedroom door with his foot. The door flew open with a loud crack, hitting the wall.
The room was in semi-darkness. Light barely struggled through the boarded windows. On the old, sagging bed in the middle of the room sat a large, oily puddle. From it poked three small heads.