SJ Longthorne

The only safe bet was to keep moving.

The fog grew thicker and pugent and its tendrils tugged on her skin, as if to insist she was going the wrong way.

“Wait,” she thought. “Since when could fog exert physical force?!”

In a single movement repeated many times, she rolled on the floor and beneath the cloudy mass.

“It’s just like a fire, it’s just like a fire,” she told herself. “Stay low. Don’t breathe it in...”

She was crawling now, slithering between the broken debris of the amusement park and the otherwordly presence above.

That was when the fog spoke to her. It said...

"Breathe me."