Watcher in the Dark

Chapter 15: Shadows Lifted

The door to the guardhouse clicked shut behind Ethan, but the sound echoed louder in his mind than it should have. The world outside was still-too still-save for the faint, fading tendrils of fog that lingered around the corners of the streets. He leaned against the wall for a moment, forcing himself to take slow, steady breaths. His hands trembled slightly as he thought back to the park, the residents in their white robes, Gregory standing at the center of it all like some kind of dark shepherd.

They know.

The thought repeated itself over and over, like a drumbeat in the back of his mind. The Congregation had relied on the fog for protection, for secrecy. And now that shield was gone, thanks to him. He had disabled the sprinklers, broken their hold over the mist. But instead of relief, all he felt was a gnawing sense of dread.

He glanced at the monitors, the familiar glow of the camera feeds filling the small room with an eerie light. The streets were still empty. No movement. No one out there looking for him. Yet.

Ethan sank into the chair behind the desk, trying to collect his thoughts. His mind buzzed with the image of the altar, the low hum of chanting that had seemed to vibrate through the fog itself. Gregory's voice rang in his ears, calling upon the mist to protect them, to shield their secrets. They had been depending on it for something far more dangerous than neighborhood control. The fog wasn't just part of their ritual; it was their power. And now he had taken it from them.

How long before they figure it out?

He pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Josh, who was still in the car, waiting for morning.

Ethan: Back at the guardhouse. All quiet here.

Josh's response came almost immediately.

Josh: Good to hear. You alright?
Ethan: Yeah. Just need to think through some stuff.
Josh: Copy. Let me know if you need me.

Ethan put the phone down, his fingers drumming nervously on the desk. Josh had no idea what was really happening. He had been a good partner tonight, covering for Ethan during the switch, but he hadn't seen what Ethan had seen. He hadn't felt the weight of the ritual, the strange energy in the air as the residents chanted, drawing the fog around them like a living thing.

What happens when they find out?

Ethan's mind raced. The Congregation was powerful, and whatever they had been doing with the fog was central to that power. He had interrupted it, exposed it, but he didn't know how far they would go to restore control. He thought about Gregory-his calm, almost serene expression as he led the ritual-and felt a shiver run down his spine.

Gregory was too calm. Too sure of himself. He had to know the fog was already weakening, yet he acted as though it didn't matter. As if the ritual had power beyond what Ethan understood. Maybe it did. Maybe there was more to the mist, to the rituals, than just controlling the residents.

Ethan's thoughts were interrupted by a flicker on the camera feed. He sat up straight, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to the monitor. A figure was moving through the street-a solitary figure, dressed in white, walking slowly toward the guardhouse.

No...

His breath caught in his throat. It was one of the residents. One of the people who had been standing in the park just minutes ago. The white robe billowed softly in the breeze, barely visible in the last wisps of fog. Whoever it was, they were coming closer.

Ethan's stomach twisted. He watched, frozen in place, as the figure drew nearer to the guardhouse. The face was obscured by the hood of the robe, but the person walked with a purpose, their steps deliberate and unhurried.