It was still partially visible above the waterline, but most of it was submerged. The tires were gone, which meant that any attempts to drive it out of there would be doomed to fail.

It wasn't hard to imagine why someone would have abandoned such a vehicle in such a place. The lake itself was pretty much abandoned; no one came here anymore. The road leading up to it had fallen into disrepair long ago, making it difficult for anyone but locals to access the lake by car. Many people said that it was haunted by ghosts who would drag anyone unlucky enough to fall into its depths straight down into hell with them forevermore—and even those who didn't believe in ghosts knew better than to try driving up here on their own at nightfall when darkness crept over everything like an evil shadow lurking just around every corner waiting for prey or prey's family members or just anyone who might happen along looking for something exciting or fun or maybe even downright terrifying so long as they could spend some time doing something dangerous without getting caught by police patrolling nearby cities nearby towns nearby

I've been running this story through my mind for a few days now, but haven't been able to get it out.

I was driving home from work one day, when I came across a scene that was so strange and so terrifying that I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was dark out, and the rain was coming down hard. The streetlights were dim, and there were puddles everywhere.

And then I saw a rusty car in the lake.

At first, I thought it might have just been a trick of the light or something—you know how your eyes can play tricks on you when you're tired? But then I realized that no, it really was a car in the lake. A car with its headlights on, sitting in the middle of the lake like it was waiting for someone to come pick it up off of its side-view mirror so they could drive away while they still had time left on their lease agreement.

And when I saw that car sitting there… it scared me more than anything ever has before.

I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't know where I was. My heart thumped against my ribcage as I sat up, blinking into the darkness. There were no windows in the room; just four walls with a door. I reached for my phone, but it wasn't on my nightstand where it usually was.

I got out of bed and pushed open the door. The hallway outside was dark, but there was some sort of light coming from down at the end—I could see it flickering through a crack in another door that stood slightly ajar.

I crept down the hall towards the light and pushed open that door too, only to find myself staring at an abandoned car next to an empty lake. It looked like something straight out of an old horror movie: rusted and dirty, with weeds growing up around its tires and branches sticking through broken windows.

I took a step forward, then another… and then I felt myself falling into darkness as if someone had grabbed me by my ankles and yanked me down into their arms.

The car was an old rust bucket, the kind you'd find at the back of a junkyard. It had been abandoned there by some poor soul who'd driven it into the lake.

The water wasn't deep—about three feet at most—but it was murky, and there were no streetlights or moonlight to illuminate the depths. Had anyone else been around, they might have seen something moving in those waters: a hand or a shadow, perhaps? But it was just you and your flashlight, so you couldn't be sure.

You didn't want to get too close to the car; there were probably rats inside. And if not rats, then definitely spiders. You shuddered at the thought of either one crawling over your skin while you slept in your tent tonight…

But then again… maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to go check out what was inside that rusted hulk. After all, maybe someone had left something valuable behind! You'd always wanted an old antique radio or something like that…

I don't know why, but I always felt drawn to that rusty old car. It was always there, covered in algae and moss, sitting at the bottom of the lake. Every time I'd go swimming, I'd see it glistening in the sunlight as if it were calling out to me.

I knew it was dangerous—it had probably been there for years and years—but I couldn't help myself. Every time I swam by, I would stop and peer through the windows. It wasn't until I went diving one day that everything changed.

I was just about to leave when something caught my eye: a small plastic baggie filled with white powder. At first, I didn't know what to do with it—was it drugs? Should I take it home with me? But then my curiosity got the better of me…