I’m honestly not sure where to even begin with this. It’s been, well, almost a year to the day now, and I still can’t fully understand or comprehend what happened that day. Neither have I been able to fully get over it. I’ve floated from one psychologist and psychiatrist to another, all which tell me that what I experienced couldn’t possibly have occurred. And, yet, as much as they try to make my mind believe that, both with words and medication, as much as I try and make my mind believe it wasn’t real, I know deep inside myself that it was. So, I’m choosing to post my account of this here, both as a, admittedly, rather pathetic attempt to release some of the guilt and horror that I’ve carried with me since that day. And more importantly, as a warning. To anyone who will listen.

You see, I used to love scuba diving. I became certified when I was sixteen years old, and I’ve dove both in freshwater and saltwater ever since. I’ve met and become friends with many great and talented people because of it, and Tyler was one of them. A daredevil at heart, and always up for an adventure, I took him under my wing, as he was less experienced than I was, and a few years younger than me. We eventually became close enough that we called each other brothers, and though we lived in different states, we always met up at least once a year to go on a scuba diving trip. That was, up until the pandemic hit a few years ago. When it hit, due to the quarantines and difficulty to travel it made, we wrote off our annual meet-ups for 2020 and 2021. We kept in touch, but it just didn’t feel the same.

Then, one afternoon in April of 2022, I received a phone call from him. All the usual cheerfulness and bravado seemed to have been sucked out of his voice. He told me that his work had chosen to lay him off as a way to cut back spending costs due to the strain his business had been put under, and he’d been forced to go on food stamps and cash assistance as a result of it. To make matters worse, Veronica, his long term girlfriend of almost seven years, had decided at the same time to break off her relationship with him. Let me tell you, that woman truly did complete him, and losing her, on top of the stress from losing his job and inability to find a new one quickly, had quite literally deflated him. I felt helpless, unable to do anything to cheer him up, standing in my kitchen holding my phone, when an idea that I’d been floating around in my head sprang to the surface.

“Hey, Ty?”, I asked, trying to fill my voice with as much excitement and mystery as I could, “I thought of something we could do that might make you feel better” “What?” he asked, his voice inflectionless and hollow, like that of a robot. “Well, I was thinking, I have a few days off coming up in the next few days from my remote work. What about just, packing up, having me come drive and get you, and we go take a scuba diving trip?” I heard a slight stir on the other end of the line, but his voice remained the same. “I mean, I guess so. But where could we go? So many places are off limits due to, well, I mean, have you taken a look at the news?” A slight smile crept across my face as I prepared to spring my idea on him. “The place I’m thinking of is one where there won’t be as many people right now, because of the season” My smile grew wider. “What’s one of the places you’ve wanted us to dive together the most, but we’ve never been able to?” A pause. “I mean, there’s plenty of places. Lake Superior, The Blue Hole, The Great Barrier Reef-“

I cut him off. “No, I’m talking about someplace much closer to both of us.” I dropped my voice low. “I’m talking about Crater Lake” There was the longest pause of the call yet, and then he spoke, his voice now filled with something I’d been hoping for: curiosity, and a bit of excitement. “Crater Lake, man?”, he asked, “That is one place you and I have had on our bucket list for years” A hint of doubt crept into his voice. “But, I mean, how? You know as well as I do that scuba diving isn’t allowed there. If we get caught-“I cut him off again. “Don’t worry about that, bro. I’ve been doing some scouting of the area, and there aren’t many park rangers in the area as there would be in the summer or fall. If we go at a certain time, we’ll have a few hour window to check out what we can, and grab some quality pics and video”

Another second of silence. Then, “Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing to lose, and this might help get my mind off the world of shit surrounding me. Let’s do it man!” A grin split my face as I heard the first hint of his old self creep back in. We spoke for a few minutes longer, fine tuning the details, and then we hung up to both get some sleep. As I walked to my bedroom, I glanced at a framed picture of the lake that hung on my wall. I couldn’t help but grin as my gaze lingered for a moment more, looking from the edges of the water to Wizard Island. I climbed into bed and drifted off into a sound sleep. That night was honestly the last decent night of sleep I ever got.

The next morning, I packed all the gear we’d need into the back of my battered Ford Probe, and then made the many hour long drive from Northern California to Salt Lake City. When he answered the door, he was clearly beyond excited. He almost seemed like a kid on Christmas morning, ready to open his presents. It was infectious; as we left back west, I couldn’t help but revel in the same feeling of excitement, and a bit of risk and danger we were about to undertake. After a few fill ups, combined with many snack and restroom breaks, we passed into Oregon, stopping a final time in Klamath Falls to spend the night before entering Crater Lake National Park the next day. We told the ranger at the entrance that we were merely heading in to do some snowshoeing around the lake, showing him the snowshoes we’d bought in town as a front. After a moment of taking down our names, he smiled. “Just be careful, boys”, he said, “We’ve had some recent snowfall, and some areas are tricky going!” We thanked him, then drove up into the parking lot, getting out and retrieving our packs, attempting to hide the obvious yellow glow of our scuba tanks under them.

After a few minutes hike, we were rewarded with an amazing view of the place we’d come for. For those of you who have never seen Crater Lake, it used to be an active volcano called Mount Mazama. When the volcano collapsed about seven thousand years ago, it formed what is known as a caldera. The view is amazing; you can look from the top ridge and see the rim of the dormant volcano wrapping around, and the forested sides leading down to the water’s edge. On the west side of the lake lay Wizard Island, having pushed out of the water from a secondary eruption. You can also see Merriam Cone, a smaller spigot of land rising up.

Tyler and I shared a grin and a high five, before carefully making our way down to the shore of the lake. We looked around for a few minutes, catching a glimpse of some snowshoers disappearing into the tree line, before hiding our packs behind a rather large group of rocks and stripping off our clothes, revealing the dry suits we had on underneath them. Helping each other put on our tanks, vests and weight belts, we made our final checks of our gear before pulling the hoods up over our heads to protect them from the cold water. I glanced at Ty as I picked up my flippers. “You ready for this, man?” I asked. He gave me a dopey grin; his trademark sign that he was beyond stoked. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” he asked, earning a shared laugh between both of us. I picked up both cameras and handed one to him. “Then let’s do this, while we still can!” I proclaimed, slipping on the flippers and turning to walk backwards into the water.

Even with the dry suit on, the water temperature still sent a small shockwave through my body. As soon as the water reached my waist, I pushed off to get myself into deeper water. A moment later, Ty joined me. Staying close to each other, we dropped below the surface, marveling at the view around us. The waters of Crater Lake are extremely clear and very blue, giving a large amount of visibility. It feels so surreal, to say the least. Flashing each other the okay sign, we pushed out towards the shoreline of Wizard Island, snapping photos and taking everything in. There had been a few other people to scuba dive here over the years, with the national park service approval, of course, but recreational diving was barred to, according to the reasoning that was given, not wanting to bring any invasive species of creatures into the lake, or mess up the ecosystem in any way.

As we followed the rocky bottom next to the island, I felt at peace; the only sound that could be heard was the streaming of bubbles each of us made as we breathed in and out. I checked my air gauge quickly, noting that we had about two hours of air remaining. Plenty of time to enjoy everything, I thought to myself. The thought was interrupted by a poke in my shoulder. I glanced, and saw Ty point out ahead of us. After a moment, I saw what he’d spotted. Swimming just ahead of us was a large school of Kokanee Salmon, one of the two species of fish that the lake had been stocked with. Their large, bright red bodies stood out clearly in the clear water, and it made for an amazing shot. I brought the camera up to my mask and snapped off a few photos, then noticed Ty motioning to me. He began heading out towards the salmon, and after a hesitant moment, I followed.

As I followed him, I spared a glance downward, and felt almost a sense of vertigo overtake me, even underwater. Not far off the shore of the island, the bottom simply drops away into nothingness. The bottom of the lake is over a thousand feet deep, making it the deepest lake in the United States, and one of the deepest in North America. It was so deep, that submersibles had traversed the lake bottom before. I stared down, feeling an almost unwilling sense of unease creep over me as I noted that, for all the water’s clarity, it was so deep that you couldn’t see the bottom. I shook my head. Get a grip, Marcus. This is a landlocked lake, not the Pacific Ocean. There’s only salmon and trout in here with you, nothing that could attack you.

Refocusing, I noticed Ty had gotten a little too far ahead of me, and I kicked hard to catch up with him. He had drifted close to the school of salmon, and as I approached, I must have been making too much noise, because they quickly scattered into the distance. Ty shot me a bit of an annoyed glance over his shoulder, and I raised both my hands in the universal sign for Sorry. As I joined him, something caught my eye out in the distance. Something bobbing up and down in the water; a long, cylindrical shape. I tapped Ty on the shoulder, then pointed. After a moment of looking, he gave a cry of excitement, the sound muffled by the regulator in his mouth.

The Old Man of the Lake. I had seen it countless times from the shore of the lake, and others from the tour boats which crisscross the lake in the summertime. It was a huge floating tree stump, almost thirty feet in length. The thing had become as famous as the lake itself, due to the fact that it had been floating around in the lake since at least 1896, when it had been first spotted by a man named Joseph Diller. For one reason or another, even after over a hundred plus years in the water, it had refused to sink, and floated freely from one side of the lake to the other. It also held a lot of superstitious significance, as in 1988, a submersible expedition tied up the stump on one side of the island, resulting in storm clouds to immediately move in. They disappeared when it was released, and thus, the legend of it being more than a dead tree began.

All this flashed through my mind as I watched it bob up and down in the water like a buoy, at least a mile away from our location, deep out near the center of the lake. I spared another glance at Ty, and could immediately tell what he was thinking by the look in his eyes. I knew it was one that I shared. He pointed towards it, and I held up a finger before again checking my air gauge. Two hours left. I held it up and pointed at him. He came beside me and showed that he had roughly the same amount of air in his tank. Nodding, I pointed towards the log and gave a thumbs up. Ty gave an underwater fist pump, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of an underwater fist pump, letting in a small amount of lake water get into my mouth around my regulator. Shaking my head, I led the way out into open water.

It took us about ten to twelve minutes to reach it, but when we did, we couldn’t help but stop swimming, bobbing up and down vertically in the water as we marveled at how big it was close up. At the water line, the top of the stump rose about four feet out of the water, and was about two or three feet thick; down here, though, it was much thicker. I mentally calculated that it had to be about four or five feet thick in the middle. The entire underwater section of the stump was covered in a thick, green moss; it was also present much farther down in the lake, but this was the only place near the surface in which it resided. I raised my camera and snapped off a few photos, some looking head on at the massive shape, and others looking down as it fell away from us; at the few roots which sting clung to its bottom.

Ty patted my arm, and then motioned for me to go float next to the stump. He raised his camera, indicating he wanted a snapshot of me with it. I shrugged my shoulders, then fulfilled his request by kicking over a few times until I floated almost directly in front of it. As he prepared his camera for the shots, I felt an odd sensation begin to creep over me. I wouldn’t call it outright fear, but, it was almost uncomfortable. It felt like all the hair on my arms and legs had stood straight up underneath my dry suit. I glanced around, trying to figure out what had caused the instinctive reaction in me, but I saw nothing. I glanced at Ty and motioned for him to hurry up. He motioned for me to be patient and kept fumbling with his camera. The feeling amplified within me, now accompanied by a feeling of being watched. And not by something that you would want to have its eyes on you.

I glanced around again, but aside from the stump, I saw nothing. That’s when I realized something odd. All the while before we’d been diving, we’d seen dozens of salmon and trout; hell, the salmon population in the lake alone is over sixty thousand. But now, I couldn’t see a single fish. A chill went up my spine. Something’s not right here. As much as I wanted to shrug it away as a paranoid thought, I knew better than to ignore my instincts. I waved at Ty, but he was too preoccupied with the camera to see me. I made a grunting sound around my regulator, but I still got no response.

That’s when I felt something slide against my leg. It was only for a moment, but it was the most unnatural feeling I’ve ever felt on or over my body. It felt. It felt like bark, but alive at the same time. I shot a glance down, but saw nothing near my body. As I looked, I felt the sensation again; this time on my shoulder. I spun quickly around, so fast that I left a small trail of bubbles behind me. There was still nothing there. Only the stump. Okay, fuck this shit, I thought, and began to kick back towards my friend. That was when I felt something wrap itself around my ankle. This time, however, it did not let go; in fact, it tightened, almost painfully so. I instinctively reached down to swat at whatever it was, hoping I’d frighten it off, but instead, I felt something thin and hard there, still refusing to let go of my leg. I shot a glance behind me, and couldn’t help but let out a muffled scream at what I saw. What the fuck?!

The object that was gripping my ankle looked like a fucking tree root. It was thick and black, and covered with green moss. That wasn’t what had caused me to scream, though. What had caused that was where it had come from. It came from the goddamn stump. I could see where it had slid out from, under the very bottom of the log. And it was not alone. From the bottom and sides slid out many more of the root things, for all intents and purposes looking like the roots they appeared to be, but slithering through the water in snakelike fashion. And they were coming for me. I screamed again and kicked out as hard as I could, attempting to free myself, but unable to.

A blur appeared beside me, and after a moment of confusion, I realized it was Ty. He’d seen and heard my struggling, and now floated beside me, his eyes wide and full of fear. Reaching down, he attempted to pry the root from my ankle, but to no success. The other root appendages had almost reached me now, and I involuntarily let out another muffled scream, almost in defiance at my fate. In that moment, I felt with certainty that I was going to die. Ty reached down and unsheathed the knife from his ankle, and with a fury I didn’t know he possessed, began slashing at the appendage that clutched me. Within a few cuts, the water began to cloud with a strange, green-ish fluid. I felt the grip on my ankle loosen and unwind, and I instinctively kicked forward to fully free myself from its clutches. After a few kicks, my mind caught up with me, and I realized something. Tyler wasn’t with me.

I turned, and was met with a horrific sight, one which I still see when I close my eyes. The reason why the root had loosened itself from me, was to go after what was attacking it. Tyler. Oh, my God. It had caught him by the arm he had used to slash at it with, and was tightening its grip, far more than it had me. I heard the sickening crunch of his wrist breaking, a sharp sound that pounded through the water, along with his muffled scream. And worse? The other roots had reacted as well, and had reached him. One large one, as thick around as my thigh, wrapped around his chest and squeezed. Still more of varying sizes slid in and wrapped around his arms and legs.

Breaking myself free from the horrifying sight, I kicked back towards him rapidly. When the root had broken his wrist, the knife had fallen from his hand, disappearing into the depths. But I had to do something. As I approached him, however, the stump seemed to move away from me, almost to keep me just out of reach of my friend. A particularly large root made its way out beyond all the rest, but unlike the ones which were gripping Ty’s body, this one lashed out like a squid’s tentacle. It struck me upside the head, and my vision blurred as I spun in a circle from the impact. For several seconds, I saw nothing but fuzzy shapes, and then my vision cleared. I saw a small red cloud begin to surround me, and reached up to feel a rather large gash near my hairline.

Trying to keep myself conscious, I turned back towards the stump and Ty. And I wish to God, as much of a coward as that makes me, that I hadn’t. If you’ve ever seen John Carpenter’s The Thing, you’ll remember the scene where Copper attempts to defibrillate Norris, who turned out to be a Thing in disguise, and how his chest had opened up like a mouth. That was the sight that greeted me as I felt frozen in place.

It was opening up. The middle of the stump split apart, and opened like it was on hinges. Like it was a mouth. More roots slid out from inside the darkened space, and I heard my friend let out another muffled scream as his air tank was ripped off his back by a few of them. The regulator was torn from his mouth as the appendage tossed the tank out to the side, and more wrapped around his neck and head, effectively rendering him unable to move. I tried again to kick towards him, feeling my head spin with dizziness as I fought to keep from passing out. But I already saw it was too late.

The roots had a firm grip on him, and rapidly pulled him back towards the opening. I wanted to look away, but, I couldn’t. He still had his mask on, and behind the lenses, I could see his eyes wide with fear as he fought in vain to free himself. Then, he was pulled inside, and I heard my friend scream one last time as the opening in the stump closed. I saw a quick flash from the camera still attached to his wrist, momentarily illuminating the hellish interior, and then, it sealed up. It floated further away from me, and the roots- the tendrils, retracted back. In the span of thirty seconds, it again looked like nothing more than an ordinary tree stump.

Feeling a wave of nausea pass over me, as well as a growing blackness envelop the edge of my vision, I could do nothing but kick for the surface. My head broke the water into the chilly afternoon air, and I spat the regulator from my mouth. I began kicking backwards towards the shore as hard as I could, all the while keeping my eyes locked on the four foot tall white shape bobbing up and down above the small waves until I reached shore, where I passed out.

I awoke two days later in a hospital. A bandage covered my head where it had been gashed open, and it hurt like hell. I was greeted by the nurse, along with two policemen and the park ranger who had let us enter. After a few questions from the nurse about how I felt, I was left alone with the policemen and the ranger, who, after telling me that the snowshoers I had seen earlier that day had found me unconscious on the shoreline on their way back, proceeded to bombard me with questions. I tried explaining what had happened to them, knowing full well that I would sound insane, and not caring. They needed to know what had happened. “You’ve got to believe me”, I shouted, “I swear I’m not making this up, the fucking thing is alive!” But, of course, they didn’t believe me. They chocked up my story to my head injury. They also decided that Tyler had drowned, having something faulty happen to his air supply. He barely even got a mention in the local paper, just another drowning victim. I was slapped with a huge fine for illegally diving, and given a lifetime ban from the national park, with the penalty of jail time if I ever stepped foot in it again. Like I ever would want to. Veronica and Tyler’s parents blamed me for his death, and as much as the doctors I keep seeing tell me it wasn’t, I can’t help but feel consumed with guilt. After all, why shouldn’t I? I mean, I was the one who thought it up. He would still be alive if it wasn’t for my idea.

Now, the one year anniversary of that horrifying day is fast approaching, only weeks away. I can’t help but think about anything but it as I sit on my couch night after night and try and drown my memories and guilt with bottles of whiskey and vodka. But not even the alcohol is enough to chase away the memories of that day. Of that thing, which pretends to be a stump. One which has floated around the lake for over a century. Every year, there are a few people who reportedly drown in Crater Lake. Often times, their bodies are never recovered, the lake being too deep to retrieve the remains. I’m pretty damn sure that the true reason swimmers disappear is much worse than that. Because when the camera flashed in Tyler’s hand before it closed around him, I saw something that still wakes me up in the middle of the night, screaming.

As it closed up, I saw the roots forcing their way into his mouth. Down his throat. I think about trees, and how their roots dig into the soil to slowly extract the nutrients from it. And I shake uncontrollably at the thought that that….thing, might have had a similar purpose for my friend.

So, I’m posting this as a warning. You can go visit Crater Lake National Park. It’s a beautiful place. You can even go walk around the edge of the lake, or take a tour on one of the boats. Both are perfectly safe. But, whatever you do, stay the hell out of Crater Lake.