Jenny Greenteeth

The CampfireThe openingFree

In the north of England, in the old mill towns of Lancashire, there are a lot of ponds. Old mill ponds. Flooded clay pits. Still, dark water at the edges of fields.

And in summer, a lot of those ponds go green. Covered from edge to edge with duckweed. Tiny, bright green leaves, packed so thick across the surface that it looks like a lawn. Like solid ground. You could step right out onto it.

You'd go straight through.

For hundreds of years, parents in those towns told their children the same thing.

Don't go near the green water.

Because that's where Jenny Greenteeth lives.

Jenny lives under the weed. She's a hag. A water witch. Old, and thin, and slick as an eel, with long green hair that floats out around her in the water like weed. Her skin is gray-green. Her fingers are long, with long nails.

And her teeth. Her teeth are green. Long and sharp and green.

She lies under the duckweed, just below the surface, with her eyes open. Waiting. For a child to come close to the edge.