I don’t have much time left. Even now as I sit here typing this, my hand is placed over my stomach. I can feel something changing, something deep inside of me, twisting and whirring inside, waiting to be let out. You may not believe me, Hell, you’ll probably think of this as a joke, but it will become apparent very soon that this message is a very true one and is a message of what is to come.
Incident 1: I woke up to my alarm. My room had a hazy feel and was darker than normal. When I looked out the window, all I saw was white, as if snow had covered the glass. Groaning, I sat up, glancing towards my sister in our shared room. But something wasn’t right, from a crack in the window a string of fog led to her head as she muttered in her sleep.
I shook her awake.
“Wake up!” I cried and as she did, the smoke disappeared.
“I’m up Andy,” she groaned, her emerald eyes glowing in the dim light, and her curly blond hair in a tangled mess.
“Common Rosie, we’ll be late for school,” I said.
Mom and dad were sitting at the table, eggs and toast already prepared and waiting for the two of us. They looked forlorn, as if contemplating something.
“Is. everything. alright?” Rosie said, holding onto each word.
Mom was staring out the window, her eyes wide. Was she afraid?
“There’s a thick fog,” my dad explained, “your mom thinks that maybe you should stay home today-”
“Let’s go!” We both screamed, giving one another a high five. Me and Rosie’s faces lit up with joy.
My dad shook his head, “Personally, I don’t think it’s a big deal. Scared of a little fog. They shouldn’t miss school over-”
“They can’t go outside!” my mom said as if the idea was ridiculous, her eyes never left the window. I followed her gaze, trying to peer through the fog, but something wasn’t right. The fog was shifting in an unnatural way, coursing as if it were a living being, desperately searching for a way in.
“Okay, okay,” dad relented, “I guess we’ll all stay inside today.”
Mom let out an exasperated sigh, her shoulders slumped, finally relaxing, but only partially. We all sat around the table eating, me and Rosie already making plans on how to fill the day. We’d game, I said, and draw said Rosie, and annoy mom I whispered, but mom’s eyes never left the window.
“Maybe,” Rosie said, leaning in, her eyes full of mischief, “we could even take a look outside-”
“You will do no such thing!” Mom yelled, her temper surprising the both of us, “I swear if you open that door it’ll be the end of the both of you!”
“Yes ma’am,” Rosie said, ignoring the threat as she sneaked a wink at me.
Our day was filled with fun, running around the house, fighting one another, playing with each other, and annoying our parents.
“What a perfect day,” Rosie said with a sigh as if we’d spent the whole day working.
“Maybe the fog’s a blessing,” I said with a chuckle, but my mom did not agree. Her long dark hair slumped over her head as she continued to stare out the window.
“What’s wrong with mom?” Rosie asked quietly.
“Dunno, maybe she saw something outside?”
“Something?”
“I heard that fog like this can mean there’s a monster nearby,” I whispered.
“No way! You’re just trying to scare me” Rosie punched my arm.
“Then let’s take a look.” I suggested and we both went to our room so our mom wouldn’t see what we were up to, and stared out the window. A thick fog covered the glass, making it impossible to see anything outside.
“I can’t see anything,” Rosie complained and took her eyes off the window, already bored. But just as I started to pry my eyes away from the window, for a split second, a part of the fog began to take shape. My eyes squinted trying to be sure of what it saw. Part of the fog began to form into a giant eye with a huge grin beneath it.
I jumped back from the window, crying out in surprise, but when I looked back the figure was already gone.
Incident 2: I woke up that night to the sound of Rosie’s voice, but there was another sound.
“Rosie?” I whispered unsure. My eyes slowly opened, taking in the darkness. But the room wasn’t dark, it had a faint glow coming from the fog through the window.
“Strange,” I muttered, my mind still half asleep. There was something just outside the window. Slowly, I got up, my feet hitting the cold floor. It was too cold, I looked down and saw a faint mist on the floor. Some of the fog had gotten in, pouring itself through the window and covering the floor as if it was some sort of cool blanket. Each step I took made the fog stir, Rosie’s muttering grew more and more erratic.
The window, there was something outside the window. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my vision clearing up as I looked out the window.
The fog was not as thick as it was in the morning. I could see outside and down our driveway, but the air was still blurry. That was when I saw it. Its hand landed on the floor peeking out from the corner of our garage as it walked into view. A large hand thumped on the floor, heavy enough that I could feel its vibrations. I followed the hand to a long and strong, gray arm that was covered in boils on a bare chest with the ribs open like a door. Dark tendrils branched out of the ribcage and disappeared only to stretch out again as if grasping for the air. The creature had no legs and instead ended in a tail-like tendril that floated in the air, making it seem impossibly unbalanced, almost like a bottleless genie. Its face was lizard-like yet human and its mouth shot fully open, impossibly wide and a loud moan similar to a foghorn emitted through its gaping void.
“Is this a dream,” I stammered, backing away from the mirror.
There was a sudden chuckle behind me. My head whipped around to my closet and my heart began to pound hard enough to burst through my chest. There was a wide, vertical grin stretching the length of my dark closet, stretching as tall as me. Dozens of eyes floated around the grin with a dark mass as its body. The creature raised a void of a limb, stretching a broken finger to its mouth to shush me. Dozens of voices emanated from the creature, speaking words but impossible to understand. It grabbed onto the doorway of my closet with another impossible to make out limb as the voices grew louder.
Another foghorn. My head was spinning, unsure of whether it should whip back to the creature out the window or stay focussed on the one in front of me. It chose the latter. Slowly, the creature began to emerge from my closet pulling its body out with its long arm. Its voices grew faster, more excited. A warm liquid began to stream down my leg. The creature’s eyes widened, a long, purple tongue slipped out of its mouth to lick its lips.
Another foghorn.
My eyes clamped shut, unable to stand the fear. My heart pounding, ready to burst, as tears escaped my eyelids.
Suddenly, all of the voices grew quiet, and after a minute or two, my eyes slowly opened. But the creature was still there.
Its grin opened, “She’s coming,” it said all of its voices coming together for one final message before it disappeared into a cloud of smoke.
Incident 3: I woke up to an itch covering my leg. The bed soaked in piss.
That was a bad dream? It had to be, right?
My eyes shot to the closet door, dreading what they might see, but luckily, there was nothing there. I glanced around the room, still unsure of what to think when I noticed Rosie’s bed was empty. Did she wake up early?
“Rosie?” I called searching around the house. There was no answer.
“Rosie!” I said again, more desperate. That’s when I heard her soft voice.
“She’s coming? Okay. She’s coming? Okay. She’s coming? Okay….”
She was sleep walking again, her hand fondling the bracelet I gave her as a kid even in her sleep.
“Rosie!” I screamed, grabbing her arm.
“Is she coming? Okay,” Her rant changed slightly. I tried to shake her awake, I tried calling her name another time. But she would not wake up. She continued to walk, muttering her chant in a trance.
Something wasn’t right.
She walked through the kitchen, heading through the dining room, heading towards the front door.
“Rosie!” I screamed. Mom always told me not to force someone awake when they were sleepwalking, as it could make them hurt themself, but Rosie was nearly at the door, her hand reaching for its lock.
That’s when I noticed a small strand of fog leading up to her head, coming from underneath the door. Guiding her.
She clicked the lock.
“Is she coming? Okay.” Rosie said again, reaching for the handle but I leaped in front of her, smacking the fog away from her head.
As the fog cleared up, disrupted by the air, Rosie slowly woke up, nearly falling to her knees.
“What was I-” She began.
“Who’s coming,” I said ignoring her question.
Her eyes began to grow cloudy again, as if she wasn’t really present.
“A God.”
Incident 4:
My mom gave me a mouthful for my wet bed, and after I showered and changed the sheets I could hear my parents arguing.
“They won’t go outside! You won’t!” My mom screamed.
“You’re overreacting honey, there’s no harm in touching a little fog.” My dad kept his temper.
“You’re wrong!” My mom’s eyes darted towards the window filling with terror. “There’s something wrong with the fog. S-something’s not right!”
“It’s just a little fog.”
Rosie walked past them, her footsteps strong and determined as she headed right towards the door. Mom was instantly on her feet, running to catch up to Rosie.
“Rosie!” Mom screamed but it was already too late, Rosie clicked the lock and opened the door.
The door opened with a long creak, fog instantly flooded into the house like cold air from a freezer. Rosie’s eyes were glossy and her movements were sluggish as if she was sleepwalking again and I saw a trail of fog leading to her forehead. Mom grabbed Rosie and basically threw her away from the door. The fog flowed over mom, a faint glow in its mist.
“Oh,” She muttered, as if she suddenly understood something important. Her body slumped and relaxed, her once wide eyes becoming distant.
“Honey?” Dad asked.
The fog continued to pour in, covering her. Her arm twitched, the fog rolled through the doorway enveloping her.
“Oh,” she said again, this time almost sad. The fog was moving unnaturally, it began to wrap around my mom, encircling her as if she were inside a transparent egg.
The fog began to condense, seemingly hardening around my mother. “Oh,” She whispered one final time as the fog began to pour into her mouth.
I slammed the door shut. Dad was too stunned to speak. What the Hell was going on?!
“Why did you?” I began turning to look at Rosie but she was already gone.
Incident 5: An awkward silence filled the air as we ate.
“We should go back to school soon,” Rosie said.
I expected my mom to become angry, but no.
“True, you can go tomorrow.” Their voices had no emotion, they seemed to be talking to no one as if they both understood one another perfectly.
“But what about the fog?” I asked nervously.
“A little fog wouldn’t hurt anybody,” my mom mimicked my dad’s words, but not in a mocking way. She was staring straight ahead, she was here but looking somewhere far away.
“We can’t go outside.” Dad finally said sternly, “Not while that fog is here.”
“We can’t stay here forever,” mom said, “we have to go outside.”
“We can wait, nobody’s going outside until that fog clears. Weren’t you the one who said something isn’t right?”
“It’s just a little fog.” She mimicked and as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.
My eyes shot towards the door and as did dads. A series of knocks came again, more urgent this time.
“Hello?” We could hear our neighbor, Ms. Baker shout. “Is anyone home? Please let me in!”
“Dad, what do we do,” my voice quivered.
“No one is opening that door.”
“We have to let her in,” Rosie chimed in. Her voice dead, yet demanding.
“It’s just a little fog,” mom said.
The knocking grew louder.
“Let her in.” Rosie commanded.
My eyes darted from mom, to Rosie, to the window, then finally to the door.
“Please let me in!” Ms. Baker screamed, “My husband, t-there was something wrong with my husband and he…. he-”
My dad stood and ran to his room, reappearing seconds later with his rifle.
“Dad?” I asked nervously.
Mom and Rosie followed him to the door, their eyes blank. Dead.
Dad only hesitated for a moment before reaching out and opening the door.
The fog wasn’t as thick as it was before and Ms. Baker burst in, ignoring the rifle in my dad’s hand.
“Oh goodness!” Ms. Baker cried leaping into my mom’s arms, “I was so scared, y-you wouldn’t even believe what I-!”
She couldn’t even speak through her tears. My mom, usually very loving and compassionate, however, did not even hug the woman back, her hands stayed slumped to her side.
“Is something the matter Roxie?” Ms. Baker asked, confused.
“She’s tired is all,” dad spoke for her.
“Oh,” Ms. Baker said, slumping onto one of our dining room chairs.
We all took our places back at the table.
“Help yourself,” my dad told Ms. Baker and she began to dig in, telling us about her living nightmare as she stuffed her face.
She told us how the first day the fog came in, she too could tell that something wasn’t right but her husband didn’t believe her and still went outside to feed chickens.
“I told him,” She said, “I told him to just let those damn chickens starve, fuck if I care. But he went out anyway, that stupid old man.”
She took a mouthful of bread before continuing. When her husband came back he was acting strange and when they went to bed that night and she woke up, she wasn’t lying next to her husband, it was a creature that wore her husbands’ clothes.
“I-I can’t even begin to describe what I saw!” Ms Baker cried, “it was like a wooden plank filled with holes but still organic y-know?”
I didn’t know.
“So he was the first?” mom said and I glanced at her timidly. Rosie was smiling in anticipation.
“He what now?” Ms Baker asked, pausing. “Anyway, I locked that thing in my room, barricaded the door, but I was too scared to go outside, too scared of that damn fog. But when it cleared up a bit, began to feel less menacing y-know, I took the risk and ran straight here.”
“Well I’m glad you’re safe.” Dad said, unsure of what else to say.
Ms. Baker could sense the tension in the house but having her around made the house more lively. She could talk for hours and hours and, being stuck in a home with Rosie and mom acting strangely, that was exactly what we needed.
“I didn’t even want those damn chickens,” Ms baker said, “But my meathead of a husband went on and on saying ‘It’d save us so much money’”
She went on and on too.
Eventually, it grew dark, and it was time for bed.
“You can sleep with Roxie on our bed, I’ll take out the air mattress and sleep on the floor.” Dad said politely.
It was usually mom who did all the talking for him, I don’t think I’ve ever heard my dad talk so much.
Ms. Baker gave him a warm smile, “Well aren’t you lovely, if only I had a husband like you, instead of that stupid old man.”
Ms. Baker seemed mean, but there was a sadness in her voice and I could see a tear secretly roll down her cheek.
“I’m sorry about Randy, Ms. Baker,” my dad said and her smile faded.
“It’s okay. You know, maybe he’s not even gone, for all I know that idiot just went outside and got lost in this fog. He’d do something like that too, I wouldn’t put it past ‘im.”
The grown ups went to their room.
“Come on Rosie,” I said, grabbing her hand. Her arm was freezing but she followed me like a lost child. Eventually, my eyes were able to close and fall asleep, exhausted from all the stress from the day.
Incident 6: I woke up to the creak from Rosie’s bed. Wiping the tiredness away, I realized it was still pitch black outside. She must have been sleep walking again. Adrenaline coursed through my body as I feared what she would do.
I got to my feet, wincing again at the cold fog that covered the floor and began to run after her. I rushed past the door and saw Rosie heading through the hallway and towards the kitchen, towards the front door. Panic began to spread through my body and I didn’t even realize my mom and Ms. Baker at the hallway window until I nearly passed them.
My eyes spun towards the two and my heart sunk. My mother was holding a wide eyed Ms. Baker to the open window by her hair. Ms. Baker looked frozen, her mouth agape and eyes wild in terror as the fog began to roll out the window and poured through the woman’s mouth. My mom had a slight smile on her face and her long, black hair floated impossibly in the air, as if she were underwater. I began to hear the creak of the front door.
What should I do? My eyes darted from down the hallway to the two women. A gasping sound escaped Ms. Baker’s lips as fog continued to flood into her mouth, tears began to roll down her face. Fog also gently seeped into my mother’s nostrils, and a soft blue glow emanated from her pale skin.
I turned and ran towards Rosie.
“Rosie!” I screamed and she turned to give me a blank stare, fog gushing into the house with its blue light.
I slammed the door shut, making sure to stay away from the fog. Rosie looked disappointed almost as I grabbed her by the wrist, feeling her bracelet on my hand, I dragged her away from the door. I expected to see my mom and Ms. Baker still at the window but the window was closed shut and the two were nowhere to be seen. I forced Rosie to her bed and told her to stay there as I lay in mine not wanting to fall asleep, but eventually the fatigue took over and my eyes drifted shut.
Incident 7: I woke up to a shrill scream. Then another and another. It was my father, those were his screams. I knew they came from him even though I had never heard him scream before, especially not a blood curdling scream like this.
I jumped out of bed and ran into my parents room, but nothing could prepare me for the scene that I saw.
My dad laid sprawled across the bed, his stomach cut open and guts protruding. He was screaming, tears, sweat, and spit covering his face, yet he was not thrashing about, as if he were paralyzed. Mom sat to his right, looking down on him and patting his head, wiping away his sweat.
“Shhh, shh, sh.” She said “you’ll scare the children.”
He lets out another scream.
“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “you’re almost there, it’s okay.” she rubbed his shoulder.
My eyes turn to the left, to the thing that was causing all of my dad’s suffering. The thing was a stick bug-like creature, it’s head long and narrow and neck like the neck of a guitar. Its skin seemed hard, almost wooden, and its body ended in a large lump with two tiny, useless legs on what seemed to be the stomach. It was wearing Ms. Baker’s clothes.
The creature reached down with its twig-like arms that ended in a sharp point. It began to pull and twist at the insides of my dad’s stomach until finally dissecting a piece of him and lifting it to its tiny and narrow mouth. It held onto my dad’s open stomach, before reaching down again and stretching my dad’s skin further, dissecting him.
My dad continued to scream.
“There, there” mom comforted him.
What the Hell was going on?
The stick bug shifted my dad’s insides before pulling out a long and skinny organ, raising it to its mouth.
I had to do something. Noticing my dad’s shotgun leaning against the bedroom wall, I rushed to grab it, my mom watching me unworried as I grabbed the gun and pulled back its safety before lifting it towards the thing that could no longer be called Ms. Baker.
Bang!
The stick bug fell lifelessly to the floor with one shot. My hands stung from the impact, my ears rang, and my shoulder shot back. Tears of fear flowed down my face, but the terror was far from over.
I looked over to see my mom raise her finger towards my dads neck.
“Things are changing,” She said, her finger contorted into a dagger, looking like a pencil.
“You’ll change too,” She said before stabbing my dad’s neck.
I screamed, “What are you doing!” I raised the gun up towards my mother but could not shoot.
“Go ahead, it’ll make no difference,” she said, “We’ll all be changed by the fog.”
Suddenly, I heard the beating of my dad’s heart. The beating grew and grew as his chest began to expand, pulsating. His skin exploded, bones and viscera scattering across the room. The heart began to lift from his body. Floating impossibly in the air and growing. It was the size of a basketball, then even bigger, nearly 3 feet tall.
The beating grew louder and louder reverberating through my body and into my head, giving me the strength I needed. I raised the gun towards my mom and fired another shot, hitting her in the abdomen. Her hands covered her stomach but she was not even stunned. A smile pursed her lips as she fell onto the floor.
The heart continued to beat root-like veins beginning to grow out of it, reaching into the open air. As if searching for a new body. I stood there in shock unsure of what to do. I raised the rifle again, should I shoot the heart too? What good would it do though? But before I can even decide I hear the front door groaning open.
It was Rosie!
I sprinted out of the room and down the hall, towards the open door. The door that was open with Rosie not in sight.
Incident 8: Tears streamed down my face as I ran outside and into the fog. I would not let Rosie be taken, I would not let her be changed! I searched frantically for her, the fog was thick but not as thick as it was before. It didn’t try to enter my mouth or invade my nostrils; however, I could still feel the cold mist in my lungs.
“Rosie!” I screamed with all my might, “Where are you!”
There was no answer. Then I saw her shirt, followed by her shoes and pants, even her socks. I followed the clothes until I reached something moving on the ground, something that could not be Rosie.
“It can’t be,” I cried, tears rolling down my cheeks once again, but it was, even though she had changed I could still see the bracelet I gave her around her disfigured wrist.
Rosie was just a jumbled mulch of flesh no bigger than a box. She had no limbs other than the one arm, the same arm that held her bracelet. Just a jumbled piece of meat, she couldn’t move, but her long arm reached towards the floor, dragging her forward. Emerald eyes riddled the body and a flap could be seen on her side, a flap that opened and allowed her to speak.
“She’s nearly here,” She said, her voice unnatural and broken. “I must hurry.” The hand on her back reached forward again, dragging her across the hard cement, a trail of blood following her path.
I grabbed my sister, lifting her into my arms. My mind became calm and determined, the gun strapped to my back. I began to walk forward, following where my sister was headed. Deep down, I knew the answer to everything would be there.
The further I walked, the more dense the fog became. I began to hear the beat of a drum. A singular note booming through the fog every couple of seconds. I continued to walk forward, my eyes unable to see anything but white. The beating of the drum grew louder and louder and louder until….
I burst through the fog into an opening as if some sort of barrier was keeping the fog away from its center. In the center of the opening sat a creature that looked like a circular vase which was blowing out the fog. It was larger and taller than me, with a big base but a slender neck that ended in a hole that emitted the fog. The fog covered the air above and around us, yet the bubble we found ourselves in was completely fog free. The creature had four long arms with four joints each. Three of them swirled around its body before gracefully lifting up into the sky and repeating this process again and again, like some sort of ritual. Its fourth arm was on its back and it slammed into its back once every couple of seconds, making the drum-like sound.
Boom
This thing was the cause of the fog, the cause of our suffering, of everything. I gently placed Rosie on the ground, she groaned and muttered inaudible words as I grabbed the rifle from my back and lifted it toward the creature.
“Rot in Hell,” I said before firing.
The creature crumbled from its midsection, a whirring of air escaping its body. I shot again, and again, making sure every last piece of it fell to the floor. Satisfied, I lowered the gun and stepped towards its remains to make sure it was truly dead, when I heard a voice.
“It’s already too late,” My mom said and I spun around to see her standing behind me with lifeless eyes, the bullet holes where I shot her filled with fog. “She’s already here.”
A smile grew on her face.
Incident 9: The fog around us swirled towards the center, condensing into a single point. My vision was temporarily blinded as the fog swirled around me.
“She’s here. She’s here.” Rosie groaned.
The fog swirled.
“Yes Rosie, she’s finally here.” mom said.
I could hear the beating of a heart. The beating of dad’s heart. It grew in anticipation.
“She’s here,” A voice that barely resembled Ms. Baker’s said.
The fog began to lift from my eyes and only an egg-like shape remained floating slightly above the ground. Condensed and pure, nearly solid. And then it cracked and spilling from the fog were two long wings. Her arms emerged next, then her long hair spilled behind her, floating and blowing with the breeze like a cape on her shoulders. The egg began to disintegrate and her hands clasped together as if in prayer.
“She’s finally here. The God of the fog.” My mom said amazed.
The woman made of fog opened her pale eyelids, but what they contained was not fog, it was the universe itself, every single thing contained in the marbles that could be called her eyes. Slowly, the woman unclasped her hands and lifted her arms to the side. A portal was held underneath both of her arms, and from them, countless of indescribable creatures poured out, filling our world.
The woman then reached her hand forward and pointed it towards my mother. A tendril of smoke extended from it, piercing my mother through her chest. My mother made a sort of hiccup sound as her body began to change. Her body began to fold in on itself, merging into one another, becoming like the trunk of a tree as it hardened. Suddenly, two large, beautiful wings sprouted from her body like a giant butterfly. A mass raised up from her body and took the form of a mouth, two eyes appearing on her wings center, and she stared at me.
“This is what we were meant to be, how it was always meant to be! Our goddess has come and with her a new world, a new beginning! You’ll change too Andy, don’t be scared, you’ll turn into what you were always meant to be.” Her voice was higher than normal, with a weird echo, like the voices of an angel.
Her wings stretched further and she took flight, soaring through the sky.
The God of the fog raised her left arm up now, towards the sky, and from it the fog poured out like roots, branching into every house in the neighborhood. I heard some screams, some cries before the newly made creatures poured from all the houses in the neighborhood. There was a whale that floated in the sky with a shell for a back, a boar-like creature with a mouth like the tentacles on a squid, a tall and skinny creature that soared high into the sky, and so many more.
“This is what we’ll all become,” I heard my mother’s voice from the sky.
A crab-like creature larger than a house came too, with its house that it lifted from the ground. A wiry mass held from the ground by dozens of root-like legs followed. All of the creatures circled around the God of the fog, admiring her beauty as she flew higher, some bowing towards her majesty, some clapping, some praising her brilliance. The whale let out an ecstatic moan, my dad’s beating heart grew faster, Ms. Baker offered her praise, Rosie cried out, and mom’s voice rang out in laughter. The God of the Fog flew higher and higher into the sky before millions and millions of roots sprouted from her finger, searching far and wide for the next human soul.
Stunned, I grabbed my sister and ran, watching as the being stared at me with its galaxy eyes. I ran into my house and typed this all out and I’m here now, shaking and unsure of what to do. The sky is covered in her roots now and I know it’s only a matter of time before they cover the entire world and reach every human. At first I did not know why she had spared me, but I was already exposed to the fog, had already breathed it in. I can feel myself changing, changing into something new, something beautiful. Into what I was always meant to be.
Maybe you shouldn’t run and cower from the fog when it eventually reaches you; afterall, a little fog never hurt anyone.