Five long, thin digits emerged from the water, each one curling and uncurling slowly as though testing the air. It had the same lines, same nailbeds you'd find in any human hand.
Its skin was the same off-white colour as rotting flesh, except it seemed to have some patches of its skin changing as it moved around the water. The colour darkened in places, shifting towards the natural tone of human skin, before lightening again.
It was as if it was trying to adjust its complexion until it settled for a colour that was just right.
Lennon's heart sank to the depths of his stomach as the hand finally found its match. It was the exact same skin colour as his own.
Before he could say anything, a hearstopping sound came out of the water.
"Something's in the water!"
Lennon suspected, just for a moment. No. Not even a moment. Just a sliver of a moment that he was having a stroke. Or some kind of mental episode. Because what he heard sounded exactly like his voice.
