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Down along Blackwater Creek, where the mist never lifts and the frogs fall silent before dawn, folks still whisper about the woman in white who walks the water’s edge. They say she lost her baby to a flood more than a hundred years ago, and every night since, her spirit searches the banks, callin’ soft through the fog.

Those who’ve heard her lullaby say it ain’t no song meant for the livin’.
If you answer, she’ll lead you into the current, gentle as sleep, certain as death.

So if you hear singin’ near the creek before sunrise…
don’t look.
Don’t listen.
And whatever you do, don’t follow.

Music from #Uppbeat (free for Creators!):

https://uppbeat.io/t/locran/cave

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