A veil of mist shrouded the fields at Paladin University, seeping into the cracks between rough stone walls and wrapping tentacles around New Hampshire’s deep pines.
Friday evening brought a stillness unusual to the campus, near-empty before the darkness would bring raucous laughter like clockwork, with flirtatious coeds stumbling animatronically across the courtyard bricks.
For all its misty blur, the chill the fog brought was distinctly unfriendly, especially to those who’d just moved to the area. June shivered, vowing to purchase a proper winter coat as she headed out of the Hale building and past the eerie courtyard, away from the hedge maze, quick feet aiming for her battered truck, barely visible in the faculty parking lot.
“Feels like it’s watching me, Big Red,” she murmured, digging into her pocket for an old-fashioned key. One palm pressed against the metal door her pet cow had dented when Mella was just a calf. The other switched to digging in her laptop bag, precariously perched on one leather-clad shoulder.
The feeling of being watched grew more intense, and she wondered whether the fog hid more than was apparent. “Right between the shoulder blades.” Chill fingers clutched a keyring with relief. She tugged, then fumbled the keys until the proper one emerged. “Finally.”
Low laughter met her words, indistinguishable from the fog.
She slammed the door, taking comfort in the vehicle’s height and apparent indestructibility, and drove away before anything else could happen.
June avoided looking into the rearview mirror, wondering whether she was a coward.
Behind her, the campus trembled. An ebony split grew from the building June had just abandoned. It was jagged and mad with wild laughter, cracking stone and shattering brick as talons reached from long-sealed depths, begging for new victims.
***
This week’s prompt inspiration on fog was from Becky Jones, while mine went to AC Young. Find more, over at More Odds Than Ends, where prompts are yours for both the taking and the reading!
