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Mrs. Popova’s house backed up to the water. I walked slowly toward it—between the darkness of the cloud cover and the mist, I could barely see my own feet. It would be easy to fall, crack myskull on the rocks, and be carried away by the hungry tide. Just another one of the vanished.
I’d reached the edge of the water. The surf slapped at the pebbles just ahead of me, foamy, flecked with grit and bits of seaweed. It sloshed, shushed—dripped. But no, that last sound was behind me, and with it the scrape of rocks. A footstep.
Fear jolted through me, rooting me in place. I should have turned, but the terror held me still. Another footstep came, and with it a soft exhalation of breath.
Angrily, I shoved my fear into the emptiness of the void. For an instant, it vanished—and then it rushed back, like a wave retreating only to crash against the shore once more. I sucked in a startled breath, and bit down against a low moan of animal panic.
“Who’s there?” I whispered. My voice was too weak to overcome the ocean.
Fingertips brushed the back of my neck. I held myself perfectly still as they trailed lightly down my back to a point between my shoulder blades, then fell away. The person behind me sighed, and their footsteps fell back. I forced myself to turn slowly, my heart hammering.
The mist was thick. Thicker than any fog I’d ever seen. The figure in front of me stood no more than four feet away, but all I could see was a gray shadow through the mist. A person, but featureless, nearly formless. Silent, except for the persistent drip of water. A damp, earthy smell seemed to emanate from them.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Who are you?” the figure repeated. Voice a croak like a raven’s.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“What do you want?” Less of a croak now. Almost human.
The figure faded. It took me a moment to realize they had stepped back—and back again, the mist swallowing them until all that was before me was a featureless expanse of gray.
I was alone.
VIDEO EVIDENCE
Recorded by Liam Kapoor
JUNE 28, 2018, 2:34 AM
Liam sits on his bed in one of Mrs. Popova’s rooms. He rakes a hand through his hair.
LIAM: Hey, Mum. Here’s your daily message, as commanded. I can’t sleep. Still. So that’s fun. Dr. Kapoor doesn’t want me here. Still. So that’s also fun.
He sighs and looks away from the camera, toward the window. He frowns.
LIAM: Hold on. Someone’s out there.
He walks to the window. The camera captures his face from below as he peers into the mist. Then he mutters something and switches to record with the rear-facing camera.
A figure walks past the window—a young woman, indistinct in the mist. She pauses directly in front of Liam and looks toward him, her features obscured.
LIAM: Sophia? What is she—
The girl walks away swiftly.
LIAM: She shouldn’t be out there.
He moves quickly, dashing out of his room and down the hall. The backdoor gapes open. Liam swears and pauses to shove his feet into his boots.
LIAM: Just my luck if the new girl falls and breaks her neck on the first night. And it’ll be my fault somehow, I guarantee you...
He jogs out into the mist.
LIAM: Sophia? Sophia, are you out here?
The mist is growing thinner, a stiff breeze carrying it away, and a gap reveals the slim figure out on a spit of rock, arms wrapped around herself and hair whipping in the wind.
