Short Story:

The Fog


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I couldn’t see a thing. No one could. The fog was too thick and too dark like a midnight sky.  

I couldn’t see them coming. I couldn’t see the darkness closing in.     


The streetlights illuminated my path as I strolled down the street towards the diner. I was meeting my friends for a late-night meeting. The moon was behind the clouds that trickled down to Earth creating a thick blanket over the city. Apartments went black as families went to sleep, dreaming of the day to come.  

It wouldn’t.  

The fog got thicker and darker as I walked towards the brightness I could barely see. I saw the diner sign faintly glowing in the distance.  

Suddenly, I tripped over a metal can on the sidewalk and tumbled to the ground. I stumbled as I got up from the ground and brushed the dirt off my jeans. I glanced around to find the fog was so thick I couldn’t see my own hands in front of my face.  

The fog was a grey void, and I was stuck.  

As I slowly walked forward, hoping not to collide with a pole or bench, I could hear faint noises. Quiet whispers and claws scratching the pavement. I could feel a thud behind me and turned around frantically.  

A looming, dark figure cut through the fog. It had six limbs and no mouth or eyes. It reached out into the darkness.  

I spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction. It heard me. I heard a shriek and the scratching of claws as it hunted me down.  

Another one leaped in front of me and grabbed my torso.  

After they tore me in two and left me for dead, I watched them disappear and once again become one with the fog.