Whom - A story without a name

Fogged Over

Early on a cold morning, he woke on the sand of a river bank. He was chilled and damp, frigid mist had soaked through his clothes and deep into his bones. With a small groan of something akin to reluctance, he sat up and straightened himself out, taking in his surroundings with tired eyes. There wasn't much to see aside from the river and it's sandy bank shrouded in fog around him. He heard the faint, whistly, cry of some early morning bird from somewhere behind him and he turned to see if he could see it. Instead he saw the forest, tall, dark, and menacing as it was. He shuddered merely at the thought of entering it again. At the thought of seeing any of the things that wept and wandered in it's depths. Hesitantly, he rose to his feet and edged towards the river, stopping when he felt his boots press lightly into the mud.

For now, he was safe. The creatures of that wood had a strong distaste for water. They avoided it as if it were hellfire, refusing to touch it and risk being damned to their doom. It was the only thing that kept them at bay. Even a fog such as the one that had crept about in the night would burn them as acid does flesh. The only beasts that weren't harmed by the mists were the two largest. They were both nearly fifteen feet tall, covered in ragged, shaggy black fur. They stunk of rot and old decomposing flesh. They resembled bears, but more brutish and primitive, the sort of things meant to stay dead long ago or not exist at all. He shivered as he thought about those beasts and wrapped his heavy, grey cloak tighter about his shoulders. With a sigh he looked to the east, noticing the sun's weak light beginning to cut through the in between morning grey.

From nowhere, there was a high, keening screech that ripped through the dawn like a sword through silk. The forest was beginning to awaken. It was his queue to keep moving. To keep heading towards the castle by the lake. He waded out into the river until he was about ankle deep and then he walked on downstream with his pack digging into his shoulders. He meandered with the flow of the river for hours, the sun making it's way into the sky, a silent reminder that it too was never done traveling. Soon enough, the sun's heat had chased the fog away and brought the bugs and creatures to life. Clouds of mosquitoes and gnats swarmed him while the hear baked his back. By mid-morning he had to stop and take off his cloak, folding it and retiring it to his pack.

No matter how hot he was, however, he always kept his eyes on the forest and the crumbling, sandy bank. Without fail there was always some sort of ghastly silhouette pacing the wood's edge. Whether it be almost natural in form, or entirely monstrous, he was always followed. The most horrifying of them were the few that resembled people. From afar, they looked to be another traveler or perhaps a lost person. But upon closer inspection, they might be lacking facial features or faces altogether. Sometimes the features would be grossly over exaggerated, like a mouth that opened far too wide, or huge unblinking eyes. Some days when he woke in the morning, he would see them just standing there just on the edge of the trees, watching him enraptured as he slept.

"Help!" A childlike, peeping voice called, breaking him from his thoughts. " Help, help, help!" It cried repeatedly. He stood hesitantly on the river's edge. There were a few people in this timber, very few, but they did exist.

"Help, help, help!" Peeped the childvoice from somewhere up ahead. He followed the noise down the river, trying to track it down. "Help, help, help!" It grew more urgent. He quickened his pace. "HELP, HELP, HELP!" It cried in desperation. He was growing nearer to the plea every step, the little voice beckoning him closer and closer. Finally, he came around the river's bend and looked all around. He was met by silence. He turned every which way, straining his ears and listening for the crying voice. Silence. Deafening silence.

"HELP!" It cried once more from the trees. He took from the river with abandon, forgetting the monsters of the forest to help the child. As he came to the wood's edge, he paused, looking and listening for signs of the lost child.