The Siren of Danau Hitam
The lake had always been quiet, too quiet for something that large. Locals called it Danau Hitam, the Black Lake. They said it had no bottom, that it swallowed sound. Ardi never believed in those stories until the night he fell in. He was fishing alone, the sky heavy with rain. His boat rocked in the middle of the lake, and the water seemed to move with a pulse of its own. Then came the voice. Soft. Beautiful. A woman’s voice humming from beneath the surface. He leaned closer, trying to see where it came from.
