Into The Mist

Everyone knows the story. They’ve all heard it before. You have too, but you didn’t believe it. That’s why you have come to see and hear it from me. I don’t know why you need to hear it again, but if telling it one more time will satisfy you, then so be it.

***

It was Friday night, the night of the homecoming game, and I was driving to the stadium with my best friend Penelope. I had to drive slowly because of the dense fog that covered the back road we were taking. It wasn’t for a good amount of time that we realized we had taken the wrong turn and were now hopelessly lost.

“Hey Allie? Where are we?”

“I don’t know Pen. I think we may have crossed a bridge a minute ago, but I could be wrong.”

I stopped the car and we got out, looking for helpful landmarks. It was useless due to the fog. Pen pulled out her cell phone.

“I don’t have reception!”

What are the odds?

“We can’t be that far from town can we?” I said.

“You’re farther out than you think,” a chilling voice sliced through the air behind us.

I spun around to face the speaker, but all I could see was more fog. Pen began to move back toward the car and I heard her gasp. I turned and nearly screamed. A pair of bright, cold silver eyes seemed to hover in the mist before us. Pen grabbed my arm as they began to come closer. My breathing quickened from the adrenaline as the body of a man materialized around them. Even in the foul weather we could see him as clearly as if it were day. He was clad in black and wore a hat pulled low to mask his eyes from our stare. We could not see his features, but I was certain that he was smiling.

“Who—are you?” my voice shook.

“I am the only person who can get you out of this place.”

He laughed a sharp laugh that was as icy and shrill as the air around us.

“I’ll help you if you like.”

No. Bad idea. I knew Pen might consider it. She trusted too many people. She wanted to get to that game if it killed her, and I was afraid that was exactly what the man had planned. If she went with this guy, I was sure she would never come back. Yes, the evil aura surrounding him was that strong. I kept watching him, looking for signs of a weapon or movement toward an attack. Instead, he held out his hand. Just as I had predicted, Pen reached forward to take it.

“Pen don’t,” I said, pulling her hand away from him. “He doesn’t really want to help us.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Oh Allie. You just don’t trust anyone.”

With good reason.

I tried to stop her, I really did, but she wrenched her arm out of my grip and went after the man. They were instantly swallowed by the fog. I know I should have done more to stop her, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

I stayed in the car until the fog lifted in the morning and a rescue team found me. I told them what had happened and asked them if Pen had made it home, but they told me they thought she was with me. I wanted to panic, but there was something stopping me. I knew this would happen.

Not more than a few hours later, another search team discovered Pen’s body lying by the river. The report said she had several bruises and lacerations and that she had been raped, but that was not the cause of her death. Actually, the medical examiner was baffled. He had no idea how she died. None of her wounds were fatal. There was no evidence to lead them to the man I described and the case soon turned cold. I went into seclusion after that. I talked to no one except the occasional polite response at a cash register for years.

Finally, on the six-year anniversary of the event, I went back to the place where it had happened. I parked in the same place and took flowers to the spot where Pen had been found.

I sat by the river for several hours, just talking to the wind and thinking about how close she and I had been. I replayed the entire night and the weeks that followed in my mind. I remembered how her parents had hated me for not stopping her. I remembered how her boyfriend had cried the next day when he got the news. I remembered telling my parents that I was leaving and how hard they tried to stop me. I really was just like her…

The darkness soon settled in and I decided that I had better head back to the car. Unfortunately, with the darkness came the fog and I lost the trail in the woods. I found myself wandering in circles.

“Fuck this,” I said aloud.

“Is there a problem?”

Oh shit…

I slowly turned around and stared into those icy silver eyes once again. The man materialized as before, gliding ever closer to me. The only difference now was that he wore no hat to shield his features. If it weren’t for those eyes, he would have been a quite handsome man.

“You—” I breathed.

“You were expecting someone else?”

I felt myself began to shake. This could not be happening. Not again.

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of me?”

“You killed Pen,” I murmured, standing a little taller. “I won’t let you get away with it.”

There was that familiar laugh. It cut through my heart like a knife.

“Yes you will.”

I lunged at him, knocking him to the ground. I hit him hard, again and again, trying to do as much damage as I possibly could. It was no use. He didn’t get so much as a scratch. He threw me off of him and stood. My back slammed into the trunk of a tree, where he grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off my feet.

“You have a lot of courage,” he said.

My eyes watered and I couldn’t speak. His hand was cutting off my air.

“I would love to keep you. I’m sure you would satisfy me greatly, but you’re too risky to keep around.”

Tears streamed down my face, which must have been purple by then.

“Goodbye my dear,” his voice was so faint.

My vision tunneled to the point where I could barely make out his dark shape.

I don’t remember much after that, but I knew he carried me to the river and tossed me into the swirling white rage. I had tried to take a breath, but my lungs filled with water. My body burned for oxygen, but I couldn’t get my head above the water. The current dragged me down and my life slipped away.

No one mourned for me. Not even my parents. They had thought me lost a long time ago. My death was hardly news to them. I hadn’t a friend since Pen, and now I never will. It was all my fault.

***

The fog that hangs over this river has never lifted, not since that day. I’ve come back now, and I can’t leave these woods. If you want walk through you may see me, or at least what is left of me: nothing but a transparent figure moving silently through the trees, dissolving into the mist.