“You’ll hear the mist coming before you ever see it.”
That was the first – and really, only – thing my co-workers told me when I started my new job. The mist would slowly roll down from the mountains and stop at the factory’s loading dock. I wouldn’t be allowed to see it – most workers don’t – but I’d hear it from miles out. The noise would be terrific.
When it arrived, only a select few people were allowed near the mist. Fewer still could engage with it. I was not one of those people. In fact, I’d probably never be one of those people. Only a select few were allowed to enter the mist. Sometimes, they didn’t come out.
But, under no circumstance was I allowed to ask about or go near the mist.
Joe, my boss, told me as much when I accepted the offer. It’s a wild thing to hear when you’re signing your employee paperwork, but you’ll do whatever when the pay is as good as they were offering. Avoid the mist? Sure. Don’t ask questions? If the check clears, I’ll clam up like a Quahog. What did I care?
They were offering three different shift times. The first two – days and afternoons – were at times where you’d never have to worry about the mist. Late nights, though, that was prime mist arriving time. My bosses told me it was a weekly occurrence, and I would have to sign some extra paperwork if I wanted that shift. NDAs, stuff like that. I hesitated initially, but then they said the pay was for a dollar more an hour. I signed after that. Every penny counts, after all.
The first week at the job was pretty uneventful. The overnight crew was friendly enough. No one was mean to me, but they weren’t the chattiest bunch. They seemed distant, and I assumed it was because everyone is usually distant to the new guy. New energy upsets the status quo. It’s not always bad, but it’s different. People need time to adjust.
I was happy. The work was mindless and easy. I loaded boxes onto pallets and then loaded pallets into trucks. Once you get the basics down, you could literally do this job in your sleep. Since no one was interested in getting to know me, I usually just listened to audiobooks as I did my job.
That changed on my seventh day. Like I said, the job had been quiet up to that point. I kept to myself and only spoke to people when I had to. I was eating my sad-looking peanut butter and jelly sandwich on my lunch break when I saw someone’s shadow darkened my meal.
I looked up and clocked Greg, another picker on the floor. He had been here a few months and, like me, generally kept to himself. Greg was a tall guy, well over six feet, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his frame. He looked just north of healthy, but he was hearty. His frame belied his strength. He looked down at me with his sunken eyes and smiled.
“First Sunday, right?”
I pulled my earbuds out of my ears and nodded.
“Wanna see it?”
“See what?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “The mist?”
I looked around and whispered, “I thought we weren’t allowed to talk about it.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
I nodded, “Okay. Yeah. I’d love to see it.”
“Cool. When the Bosses come down with the list of mist workers, the rest of us get sent inside a windowless conference room on the third floor. We’re supposed to stay there, but everyone is so concerned about the mist that they don’t check up on us. A few of us sneak down to a different office to get a better look.”
“Shit, sounds good to me.”
“Good,” Greg said, “as soon as you hear it, the bosses show up and move us out. I’d keep the headphones out until then.”
I nodded, and he rapt on the table and shot me a smile. He walked off to where he had been sitting with a few other workers. He spoke to them, and a few glanced back at me. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t paying attention, but I was. It’s human nature – everyone wants acceptance.
I went back to work not long after. About twenty minutes later, you could hear it. At first, it sounded like an intense windstorm coupled with the sound of crushing metal. But as it got closer, more and more sounds mixed into the noise until it became a steady buzz. If you listened hard, you could hear other noises inside the mist. An elephant shrieking, a low rumbling thunderclap, the hissing of a tea kettle – but together, it was just a ball of noise.
As if on cue, the door to the stairwell opened, and our boss Joe walked into the loading dock. Joe was C-Suite all the way, and it showed. He wore a suit that cost more than my car, a watch more than my apartment building, and hair so perfectly manicured it looked drawn on. Needless to say, he didn’t fit in down here.
He was flanked by two bodyguards straight out of central casting. They both had pistols holstered under their jackets – a fact they did not try to hide. They glanced around the room, looking for anyone that looked like they were going to be a problem.
“Okay, you know the drill,” Joe said, “single-file line, please. If I call out your name, go to the far side of the room near the lockers and wait for the room to clear.”
He called out five names. Those five people walked to the other side of the room and stood as instructed. Without being told, they opened the lockers and started changing into bio-hazard suits. I’m not sure what else they put on because we were marched out of the room at gunpoint.
We walked up the stairs until we got to the third floor of the office building. They marched us to the conference room Greg mentioned. Windowless and devoid of any furniture save some chairs and an old conference table. We all sat at the table as the guards shut the door and left. Most people took out their phones and relished the sudden break.
Usually, I’d be happy to kill twenty or so minutes on my phone, but Greg had promised something more enticing than doomscrolling. I looked over at his gaunt face, and he grinned. He waved me over, and I walked across the room and sat next to him.
“We need to wait a few minutes to be sure no one is outside the door.”
“How many times have you seen it?”
“A dozen or so. It’s different each time.”
“It’s not just a rolling mist?”
“It is, but it isn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
“Why can’t we be in the loading docks when it comes?”
Greg shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Is it the same guys chosen to work in the mist?”
“Typically,” Greg said.
“Have you ever been chosen?”
“None of us in here have,” Greg said before adding, “well, one guy who used to be with us did.”
“What happened to him?”
“We never saw him again.”
“What?” I asked with a nervous chuckle.
“He went into the mist and never came out,” Greg said matter-of-factly. “Happens sometimes.”
“What happened to him?”
Greg looked away, “He went with them, I suppose.”
“Who are they? Where do they come from?”
Greg was about to answer, but one of his friends walked up to him and whispered something into his ear. He looked at me and smiled, “it seems like the coast is clear. Wanna see the mist come in?”
I nodded yes. Greg, me, and three other guys walked towards the door to the room. Greg put his ear to the door, listened for a beat, and then gave a thumbs up. He turned the handle and pulled the door open.
I looked back at the table to see if any of the others would try to stop us, but no one moved. They played on their phones and were just waiting out the event. It seemed they were used to Greg and his band of rule breakers and didn’t care enough to stop them. I thought it was a touch odd, but I seemed to be the only one who did.
Greg opened the door and showed me that the hallway was empty. The guards had left. We walked, single file, down the dark hallway until we saw an office for “Gary T. Noeh.” Greg opened the door, and the office was, surprisingly, empty. Apparently, Gary T. Noeh was no longer with the company. Shame, because this office had an incredible view.
From the window, we could see the open fields behind the building that eventually gave way to the dense woods that covered a lot of the surrounding area. The area behind work was hilly, and from this vantage point, you could see where the foothills grew into mountains.
But, despite the breathtaking views of nature, that wasn’t the main attraction right now. The mist was. We all pressed our faces against the glass and kept our eyes glued to the treeline. There wasn’t anything now, but we knew it was just a matter of time.
“When did the mist start coming,” I asked everyone. No one answered. I tried again. Greg answered for the group.
“Don’t know. Long time. Before the building was built, I think.”
“Did they build the building to deal with the mist?”
“It’s best not to….”
“Here it comes!” yelled one of the others.
Suddenly, a thick white mist started rolling in at the edge of the woods. You couldn’t hear it from where we were, but you could see it coming in. Even though these guys had seen the mist roll in dozens of times, their faces were plastered to the glass.
“I can see so much,” Greg whispered to himself.
To me, it just looked like a dense fog. It moved slowly but ceaselessly. Once it enveloped an inch of land, that land was gone from sight. The fog got thicker as it got closer to the back of the building. It looked like fresh snow.
“What is it?”
“It’s beautiful,” one of the workers said.
I took my eyes off the mist and looked at the other workers. All of them were transfixed. It was like something had them in their clutches. I didn’t get it, and no one was giving me answers.
“I’m gonna head back,” I said, but no one responded. I took that as my cue to leave.
I headed back down the empty hallway and opened the door to the conference room. No one looked up from their phones. I was beginning to think I was invisible. I walked over to the table and joined the group. I pulled out my phone and continued doomscrolling.
Finally, one of the oldest workers on the loading docks looked up from their Jitterbug smartphone, and we locked eyes. He nodded at me. “You made the right choice coming back here.”
“Why?”
“Those of us that look, they’re the ones that get called in.”
“What happens then?”
The older man leaned forward. I followed suit. He whispered, “They go in one way but come out another. They’re…changed.”
“How?”
“It’s like they were…replaced. It’s… it’s not natural.”
I wanted to follow up, but I suddenly heard people stomping up the stairs. At first, I thought it was the group of guys coming back from Gary T. Noeh’s office, but I quickly realized it was the guards returning for some reason. Panic struck my heart. What if there had been a hidden camera was in Gary’s office and they had caught them in there. Would they come for me too?
Suddenly, we heard the Guards yelling. Everyone looked up from their phones and looked in the direction of the shouting. Greg and his pals had been caught. It sounded like a big deal.
The door to the conference room was kicked open, and five heavily armed guards came streaming in. Everyone looked up this time. The boss guard walked up and yelled, “Get your shit. The boss wants to show you something!”
Everyone dutifully stood up and got in a single file line. I hung towards the back and kept my eyes down. I didn’t know if they had seen me in the other room, but I wasn’t going to give them a chance to confirm anything. Not easily, at least.
We were marched down the stairs towards the loading dock. As soon as we got outside the door, the noise coming from the bay was deafening. Everyone plugged their ears with their fingers to help drown out the noise. But even still, the noise cut through everything.
That’s when I noticed Greg and the other guys that had been in Gary’s office. They were already standing by the door. They looked scared. I think they knew what was coming.
The head guard stood in front of us and yelled over the din. “We don’t have a lot of rules here, but the big one is to stay where we put you.” He looked over at Greg and his friends, “These gentlemen broke that rule. These gentlemen spied on the mist – they don’t like that. You can’t see them, but, trust me, they can see you.”
Another guard walked down the line handing us headphones and dark sunglasses. We were instructed to put them on for our own protection. We were going into the loading dock while the mist was still there.
The Head Guard mimed for us to put on the glasses. We all did. After we were done, he yelled out, “their actions not only put their lives in danger but put ALL of our lives in danger.”
I looked over at Greg, who looked as defeated as I’ve ever seen someone. He wasn’t even reacting to the noise just beyond the door. He stared down at the ground and didn’t move a muscle. Neither he nor any of his buddies were given sunglasses or headphones.
He finally looked up, and we locked eyes. I gave him a nod, but he just looked away. I couldn’t help but notice a spreading darkness on his pants. The urine puddled on the floor, but no one gave it any notice.
“Walk into the room and put your asses against the back wall. If any of you try to do anything or say anything,” he said, thumbing back at Greg and his friends, “You’ll end up with them.”
I swallowed hard. My pulse was racing. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I was worried for Greg and the others. That being said, I also felt a conflicting feeling of relief fill my mind. I had stolen a glimpse, but I wasn’t going to join them.
The Head Guard mimed us to put on the headphones. When I did, the noise abruptly cut off. It was replaced with Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. I found it a touch ironic, as Beethoven wrote this piece after he had gone deaf. He never heard what it actually sounded like. Now, it was being used to prevent us from hearing what was happening in the loading docks.
The guards opened the door to the room, and the flood of white light filled the stairwell. Greg and his friends, now nothing more than black figures against the stark whiteness of the mist, were led into the room ahead of us. A few seconds later, we followed suit.
The loading dock was awash in the mist. It was so blindly white that it was almost impossible to see anything in detail. You could make out silhouettes and figures, but that was it. Our two groups diverged as soon as we got into the room. We were forced along the back wall. Greg and his cohorts were marched to the edge of the mist.
Joe walked over to them and was screaming at them. He did partially because he wanted to speak over the din but also because he was pissed off. Even with the white light and the sunglasses over our eyes, you could see the red in his face.
All I could hear was Beethoven.
Along the edge of the mist, I saw several figures moving toward the group. I suddenly remembered the Head Guard saying, “they can see you.” I thought I might see some monsters or something come out, but, instead, it was the previous group of workers in the hazmat suits. They were returning fomr their job.
They were shimmering, wet with something from inside the mist. They walked right past Greg and the others without looking up. They headed towards the chemical showers that had been set up and were out of view.
I shifted my attention back to Greg and his friends. Joe patted them on the shoulders and then turned towards the mist. He yelled something, but all I could hear were violins. I found myself muttering, “let them go, Joe. Let them go.”
Joe did let them go…only not in the way I had hoped. Greg and his pals walked into the mist. After a few steps, you could barely make out their forms anymore. A second later, they were gone.
As soon as they were out of sight, the mist quickly retracted out of the loading dock. It was receding back to the woods, back to the hills, back to wherever the fuck it came from, and it was taking Greg and the others with them.
I whipped off my headphones to hear what was happening, but what I heard made me place them right back on. I heard what sounded like tree branches snapping, yells of pain, and the screams of lost men. It blended in with the other fantastic sounds emanating from the white cloud.
A second later, the mist was gone, and it was quiet.
Joe walked over to us and instructed us to take off the glasses and headphones. We all did. The Head Guard collected all of our gear and walked off. Another guard followed behind him and replaced the gear with a stack of bound cash.
“I understand this can be a traumatic experience. Most of you have seen this once or twice, but that still doesn’t make it easy to deal with.” He stopped in front of me. “For some, this is a first-time encounter. My hope is that you’ll be able to adjust to the increased workload for the time being. If you need to discuss with anyone, we have an on-site counselor you can talk to.”
Joe looked down at the stack of money in my hand and then back into my eyes. “It gets easier each time,” he added. I nodded.
Joe took a step back and looked at us all. “I want to applaud all of you for your work today. You’re doing an incredible job.”
Then he spun on his heels and left. The armed guards followed behind him, like baby ducks following their mother. The rest of us put our money in our lockers and finished out the shift.
I had a hard time coming to work in the days after Greg walked into the mist. I had so many questions that I knew would never be answered. Even if I dared to ask, no one would dare to answer. Also, Joe was a constant presence in the loading docks for the next week. He said he was doing routine oversight, but I never bought it. I think he was watching to see how I’d respond.
The following Sunday, we heard the crashing noise of the mist approaching, and I felt my chest tighten. I wasn’t going to risk anything this time. As soon as Joe hit the floor to gather us up, I joined the line and kept my head down. We were marched off to the quiet room again.
I fucked around on my phone until they came and got us thirty minutes later.
When I returned to the loading dock, I was stunned to see a familiar face standing near the lockers – Greg. I walked over to him and slapped his back in excitement. He didn’t even respond.
“Holy shit,” I said, “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Greg mumbled.
“Where did you go?”
“Away,” he said, without looking up.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m alive,” he said in a monotone voice.
“Are you?”
He turned to look at me, and I swear it seemed he had aged ten years in the week he was gone. He looked broken. His eyes were dull. The spark behind them had been extinguished. Greg nodded, “I’m fine.”
“What was in there?”
A rivulet of blood started to trickle out of his nose. Greg ignored it. A few drops splatted against the concrete below us. “Some things shouldn’t be seen.”
He closed his locker and shuffled back to the floor to continue his work like he hadn’t been gone for a week. All of the men that went in with Greg acted that way now. I assumed it would wear off in a day or two, moving around the world half asleep. It’s like they were worker bees, now. Just mindless drones completing tasks until they die off.
They’re all still like that. I keep to myself now and am planning my exit from the company. I’d leave right away, but I’m unsure what their reach is or what will happen to me if I do. I’ve asked to switch shifts, but Joe initially told me they’re not ready to adjust the schedule. I’m not sure if he’s lying or not. For now, though, I come in, keep my head down and ignore the mist as best I can.
I have to clock in now. Joe grabbed me as I walked in tonight and said he needed to talk to me about work. I hope he’s going to tell me that they’re able to adjust the schedule and get me the fuck out of here, but I have a nagging feeling that’s not the case. Pray I’m letting my imagination run wild about this, huh? Pray it’s not my turn to go into the mist.
Greg’s words to me came rushing back to me. “Somethings shouldn’t be seen.” I hope I never see it.