SJ Longthorne

“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."

It sounded so... attractive. And she was running out of breath.

A trembling line of fog reached out to her, stretching against invisble currents that pushed it upwards.