The Fog

Sterling closed his shop’s door and stepped into the night. It was getting chilly, so he put up his collar. Even though it was the end of November, the fog was still hanging over the streets. He was walking in the middle of the old town, but he could see just the outlines of houses and wet rocky pavement. The fog hasn’t disappeared for two weeks now and Sterling really loved it. There were slightly less annoying tourists in town, which meant fewer customers. But he especially liked that because of dampness in the air Ruth’s hair was getting curly. As he passed the sweet shop he started to wonder what is she making for dinner.

Sterling looked around to make sure if he’s alone, but the fog has sucked the town inside and left a white wall of cold smoke around him. Sterling was standing in front of the cathedral, waiting for the tower bells to ring. It was nearly 9 o’clock and he was sure that it will show up. It always does. He slowly turned around and looked at the godforsaken house, standing on the left side of the cathedral’s square. Few more minutes and it will appear. He focused his eyes on the upper floor, where you could see only one round shaped window. It was dark inside, there were no curtains. This house stood here as long as Sterling could remember. No one lived there for a very long time, because people were afraid of this place and he could understand it, because he perfectly knew the dreadful story about the family which lived there a century ago. The mother, who because of poor life, hard work and persistent exhaustion went insane, on a cold and wet November night like this drowned her children in the river, which was just behind the cathedral. Her eldest daughter got away and having no other place to go, hid herself in the attic, hoping for her father to come home and save her and her siblings. But her mother came home first. In her soaking wet dressed she crawled up to the attic, calling her daughter’s name in the sweetest voice that only mothers have. When she opened the door and chased her down to the round window that opened a view to the cathedral, the girl reached to it as if she reached for God’s help. But no one came to help as her mother stabbed her with her kitchen knife.  

Every night at 9 o’clock in the evening a white small child’s hand would appear behind the window, it would push itself to the cold glass as if it was trying to escape. The first time Sterling saw the hand, he immediately tried to go inside the house and help the child, but the door was locked and Ruth wouldn’t let him call the police. She didn’t see the small, thin hand, grasping for something. She thought he was just making fun of her. The following night he came back and tried to figure it out if it really happened. And as he was turning away, the church’s bells rang and the pale small hand flashed behind the window. Now every now and then Sterling came here to watch it. He wasn’t crazy enough to go inside. He did try to take a look in the day time, but the doors were locked and there were no family’s relatives to talk to. It scared and fascinated him at the same time. It seemed as if he was the only one to know about it and it made it even more special.

The bells started to ring and Sterling looked up, but nothing happened. He looked at the clock and back to the window, baffled and frightened. He knew it was stupid to expect a ghost to appear on a schedule, but it did it every night for a year. Bloodcurdling punctuality, as Sterling liked to call it. After a few moments the bells went silent and he decided to go home. After all, there’s not much he could do about a missing ghost. Maybe she finally found peace. When he was passing the house he froze and his heart started to pound is his ears. The old brown wooden door, covered with iron ornaments was open. He hesitated for a second and then he was already on his way home. No way he’s getting in that house.

The fog was still quietly sitting in the old town, Sterling noticed that he was nearly running and he stopped at once.

“It was just a door. A silly, bloody door. The lock broke from its age, that’s all.”

He was mad with himself for his raising fear. His heart still gave an impression that it had a wish to break out from his chest. Sterling looked at the window of the sweet shop and once again he thought about Ruth. He was about to go on, but he noticed something on the window. It was covered in some sort of dew caused by the fog. But that was not the only strange thing. On the right corner of the window he could see a small print. A small child’s hand’s print.

He bounced back from the window and started to run again. There was no time to keep his dignity, he had to get out of here, out of the old town and from that everything and everyone hiding fog. He thought he heard something else running besides, but it must be just his imagination. It’s just the echo of his steps, just the echo, he tried to convince himself. He could have sworn that he heard a silent voice behind him, whispering something between the gasps for air.

“Come out, you bloody tourists. One time I need you and you fail me! For your own sake I hope you will by my whole shop tomorrow!” Sterling swore as he was running towards the end of the street. One more corner and he will be in the middle of the town, where people always hang out.

He slipped on a rock in the old pavement and fell down. He got up and looked behind the corner, but he saw only fog, lighted in orange color from the street lanterns. He started to run again, but he saw something in front of him. He slowed down, happy to finally see someone after this nightmare. The fog split in front of her as she barefoot walked slowly towards him. Her dress was wet from the river water and dirty with something… blood, it was blood stains. She lifted her arms as if she wanted to hug him as he saw a handle of a knife, stuck in her belly. The little girl was gasping and trying to say something. All that Sterling could see was her deep dead blue eyes, shining as sapphires behind the wet hair.

“You. You… watch. But never help.” Whispered the little girl as she came closer with every step. “Now let me watch you die over and over again.”