The Fog

The Fog


A Story Blog by Michael J Pennington


The fog was thick. Dense the kind of fog that begins a Zombie movie. The kind of fog that begs for gritty noir style narration.


He sat in the empty building wondering what horrors the fog held. It had been four days. No one who entered the fog came back.


He didn’t know for sure that there was something in the fog. He only knew that no one had come out of the fog in days. That it stayed.


It was on the ninth day he began to worry about supplies.  He scribbled it out on a piece of paper. Calculating just how long he could last.


Food and water were good for months. It was the power he was worried about. He was using the building emergency stores of gas to quickly.


He decided to see if he could turn off power to all but rooms he was using. The building he was in was actually two building connected by a bridge. He went to the sister building first. He shut off all the lights and turned down the heat.


On his way back he stopped in the middle of the bridge between buildings. From here he could not see either of the two buildings.


The fog surrounding the two buildings was too thick. He decided to express his feelings by fogging up the glass, and writing them.


It was a crude statement but it reflected his feelings. He watched the foggy spot on the glass and his words fade to almost nothing.


Just as his words were almost gone they began to freeze.


His words now frozen words sat there frozen in the glass as if the fog outside was answering back.


The glass suddenly cracked, and it made him jump. He could now hear the sound of groaning metal. He did not feel safe.


He ran from the bridge between buildings back to his safe zone. He didn’t look back. Soon he had forgotten the bridge or the other building.


In his small little world that included the generators and the deli where he made his food. His life seemed so small now.


His days ran together for a time. All the while the fog was outside the building watching waiting. Growing impatient.


He tried not to look at the fog but something caught his eye. The fog had lifted just enough to see the other building. A light was on.


He tried to ignore it but now that he knew it was there he couldn’t stop staring at it. He sat watching it for hours.


“The fog might be dangerous but it’s not alive.” He thought to himself… He had to turn that light off. So he got his coat and he went.


He got on his coat and made his way to the bridge in the cold building.


The bridge was quiet. Nothing had changed. “It was just the building settling as it cooled.” He told himself, as he began to cross.


It was when he reached the far side that the windows began to freeze. He tried to run back, but the glass on the bridge began to shatter.


The fog came in through the broken glass he didn’t want it to touch him. He ran into the dark cold building.


The fog chased him into the corridor. “The basement!” There had to be a tunnel that connected the buildings. He ran to the stairwell.


He made it down the stairs quite a ways until he had to stop. The fog had filled the stairwell below the fourth floor. He was trapped!


The Fog was coming at him from above and began rising from below. He had no choice he had to leave the stairwell.


He ran into the hallway. He saw a light. He ran towards it. Maybe he’d be safe there.


The light was in an office with glass windows down the hall. It was the one he saw before. He ran inside the office.


The light was a touch light, it was wet with condensation. Did the fog want him to see this? Did the fog trick him?


The fog started now surrounded the room he was in, he could see it outside the window of the office. He turned to the fog.


“What do you want from me?!” he screamed at the fog. The fog started coming in through the vents. He sought the only refuge he could.


He ran into a nearby closet. He took his jacket and used it to block the bottom of the door. His phone was the only light.


The room got deathly cold. He realized that one way or the other the fog was going to kill him.


He picked up his jacket and put it on. He opened the door. The fog was waiting outside as if it knew he would do this.


“I can’t think of anything clever to say.” He said. “Let’s get this over with.” He walked into the fog.

The end.

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