Hell is Real

Chapter 11

Jason saw the fog come in, saw it with a hint of happiness and curiosity in his soul. He walked on it that night, walked on it until midnight. Then he went indoors, closed the windows, closed the blinds. He didn't want to see outside in the dark at 2. Nobody did, nobody spoke of it. Just don't look out at 2.

One night the road popped one of his tires as he made his way past the soy fields. He did not leave the car. He did not check the damage. He called Percy for aid, and it was only when there were at least four people, all armed with heavy flashlights, that he left the car. Something is chanting in a language he didn't know. The eyes that watch from the soy fields do not blink.

They don't fix his car. It's too far gone, it's too dark, it's too close to those fields. Percy gives him a ride home, rushes over the speed limit. It was nearing 2.

The next morning, his car wasn't there. Nothing left to reveal that it had once existed. In a week, he remembered only ever having walked to school. He never owned a car, nobody owned a car.

As he walked, he heard Them. Shrieking overhead, looking for their next meal. They looked like birds. But they never landed. One day he brought his binoculars, looked up into that sky.

He ditched the binoculars on the side of the road and rushed home. They weren't birds. They never were.

There were some birds, however. There were more crows than humans. Do not feed them, your parents taught you. What happened to those who did not obey the rule? And why no one has ever seen the young ones? Where did they come from? Don't ask. Keep going. Don't ask.

If you look very closely, the crows are all covered with blood.

At night, Jason's dreams leaked into the room around him. He remembered that camping trip, but only at night. The morning fog covered the campsite. When it dissipated, his friend's tent was missing. How many went on that camping trip? It was always one, wasn't it?... Wasn't it?

In the mornings, he would never remember. He walked on that fog, went to school, tried not to become just like the others. It was disturbing to see that their town was screwed, but at least he was different. At least he could see it. The others...they'd all die there, one day. Someday soon. The circles under their eyes will darken. They'll bleed gray.

And then, someday, they'll be one of the missing. Where they went, nobody was sure. But there was always someone new missing.