The night was heavy and the June fog thick as milk spilled over the surface of the lake. Catherine, Michael and Lena drifted quietly in an old fishing boat. It was supposed to be an ordinary camping trip, an ordinary celebration of the end of the session, but Black Lake has never been a place for ordinariness. - Can you guys see it? - whispered Lena, pointing a finger at the shadowy outlines on the horizon line. From this distance it looked like an island, even though everyone knew perfectly well that there was no island on this lake. Michael squinted and swam a few moves closer, hearing only the splashing of oars and his own accelerated heartbeat. When the mist parted for a moment, an old, forgotten harbour emerged in front of them. The planks of the coastal jetty were covered in green moss, and feral willows grew on the shore, their branches reaching down to the water. - 'No one ever mentioned this harbour...' muttered Catherine, clearly concerned. Michael, however, was already mooring the boat. Curiosity overcame fear. As their feet touched the creaking pier, they had the impression that time had stopped here long ago. The door to one of the gazebos was gently ajar and a pale light shone from inside. - 'We should take a look in there,' Lena said, clutching her phone in her hand, even though there was no reception here. They walked slowly, passing old benches and abandoned fishing rods. As they approached the gazebo, a knocking sound pierced the silence. Everything indicated that someone or something was waiting for them inside. Michael reached out his hand to open the door, and then an icy breeze blew in.... At the same moment a deafening whisper sounded from behind the door: - I was waiting for you... They stopped. Now they had to decide whether to go in further or run away - but the answer was not at all obvious.