The Mist

“It’s happening” she whispered softly, her voice a mask for the secret she hid deep within her fragile self. She felt herself go weak at its sight and she collapsed onto the autumn forest floor. Gripping onto the tree beside her, she gasped for breath as her eyes sunk back deep into their sockets, her pupils went haywire and a dizzy sensation filled her. Her hand flew to her throat as she clutched onto herself firmly and choked herself till she was numb. Her insides fired up and her skin burned, glowing red hot as it radiated heat, thawing her immediate surroundings.

It was here. Each of its stealthy moves unrestrained yet gradual, it approached the hills in a sinister way. It forced its way down, breaking through the clouds which lay so snugly above. It crept down, sneaking past thick densities of coniferous ferns. The first few metres were passed by unhurriedly. It moved down cautiously like a predator eyeing its prey, and taking careful steps to prevent its presence from being known. And then it charged down as if nothing was blocking its way.

And at last the mist settled in slowly on the cool blue lake. It cloaked the lake entirely, leaving behind faded reflections of what lay around. A gust of wind hushed by, forcing the clouds ahead. They drifted further away reluctantly, and streaks of golden sunlight pierced through the misty depth, making the lake sparkle with delight.

Her vision blurred and a sudden jolt of electricity raced through her viciously. A string of memories flashed through her mind as her limbs shook wildly, hitting against each other and bruising themselves from the rough path on which she lay. She stared above blankly and her hands spread out wide, open towards the sky, as if they were pleading, begging, yearning. The mist was a sign for her. A sign which had always been there. A sign signifying an event of destruction, an event of violence. A sign that made no appearance for long periods of time, but when it did grace her with its presence, hell broke loose. The mist was back. Here it was again.

She got up and tried to find her way through. The path ahead led her straight out of this place, and so she turned around and went the other way. She had to find him. She knew he was around here somewhere, she could sense it. And she knew he was close by because she could hear his thoughts. He was scared, and so was she. They were lost, afraid and insecure. She heard a loud thud behind her, and the sight that met her broke her at once. Her hands trembled, her feet seized, and she fell on her face. She dragged herself forward, grabbing hold of the earth and pushing it back as she hauled ahead.

Her hand reached for his neck, and felt a dying pulse. It grew softer and slower by the second. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her frozen cheeks. Severed in many parts, and with his lips cut open, he tried to speak but couldn’t. He had bled too much, and all of the blood had frozen in on him. He spat out a lump of blood, and stammered weakly.

‘The mist?’ he asked in his thoughts, and she nodded in response. His pulse was now down to two or three a minute. These were her last moments with him.

“He did this to me. He’s here. Run!” were his last words as she felt his soul depart.

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