On the far edge of our accursed town brooded a well, once wrought with the artistry of an uncanny craft, now sunken into the same decay that wrought the village entire.
Curious vines strangled the time-stained blocks of cobble, with moss spreading like rot. Stones lean inward at inhuman angles, the carvings twisted and warped until they resembled that of faces. Faint drips echo like whispers of long ago. The other villagers have begun to call it the "Drowned Eye".
Nevertheless, the town demands water, and I am not one to disobey.
The bucket groans as though dreading its descent, and I am no more pleased. What stirs beneath is not thirst's remidy, but rather its twin; there lurks an ancient stillness which reeks of old souls and older memories.
With hesitation, I lowered my offering into the mouth of the depths, and watched as my bucket vanished into the void. A damp breath rises up through the air, bonding itself with the sour scent of mold.
Although my nose is blinded, my sight is not, and a faint shimmer that may be water glistens in the black. I hear the splash of the bucket hitting the water, along with a second ripple, much heavier this time, as though something vast has been awoken within.
As I hauled the bucket back up, the rope creaks, trembling with what can only be humanized as unease. Each turn of the crank feels harder than the last, as if the earth resists surrendering what it holds. The air thickens with the miasma of rust, and I was unsure at this point whether what I held was truly the water I so desperately seeked.
When the bucket finally escaped the jaws of the depth, I dared a glance inside.
It was not water that shimmered, but eyes, countless, patient, and unblinking. They reflected the rope, the bucket, myself; they reflected the entire town, watching through the well. And as I stared, they stared back, the weight of their gaze pressing into my skull and kneading my brain.
Parting through the surface was not a prophet, but lips, slick and pale. Shaping words, they murmured:
"We remember every hand."
