Shadow of the Raven Fog

Raven Fog was one of those strange mountain villages that were hidden in the foothills of the White Mountains in northern Massachusetts, as if they were a secret. The village was not named on maps, but the locals knew – “You’ll get lost if you go that way.” The old people said that no one who went to Raven Fog ever came back, and if they did, they were no longer ‘human’.

But the story began on November 3rd, when the bodies of two students who had gone missing after Halloween were found—their bodies were strangely cut up, dismembered, as if someone or something had dressed them up as religious sacrifices. They were UMAS students who had come camping. The forensic report said that the deaths had occurred shortly before midnight on October 31st. The place? Next to Raven Fog, where there was no name, but the shadows were dark.

The local police wanted to write off the case as a missing person or a bear attack. But the truth was deeper, older.

To get to Raven Fog, you have to follow a narrow, mountainous path known as the ‘Devil’s Spine Trail’—with twists and turns, steep slopes, and deep ravines on either side. The specialty of the place is that mobile signal does not penetrate, and GPS signal stops midway there. Those who do not know the mountains, lose their way within a few hours.

There is a forested bend on this path, where many old cars still lie—brown ruins, as if they have died here. A damp smell and a blanket of fog always lie next to these cars. Locals claim that strange sounds can be heard here at night—sometimes the crying of a child, sometimes the roar of a train.

However, those who dare to reach Raven Fog find a small village—silent, completely at a standstill. A few wooden houses, an old church, and a shady field full of bushes where a huge stone pillar stands. According to some, it has remained since the time of Narasimha.

There are people in the village, but none of them smile, none of them look at each other. “We have always been here,” they say, but their faces are not exactly ‘human’. Their complexion is sallow, their eyes are unusually dark, and their manner of speaking is very measured.

After November 3rd, the nature of the wind changed. Such a fog descended on the mountains that even at noon the road could not be seen. The sun was hidden, and a dense darkness seemed to gather around.

At that time, the people of the town noticed that the fish in the canals had begun to die. The birds were not flying. Even the dogs and cats were afraid to walk on the road.

One evening, local reporter Emily Thorne drove alone in the direction of Raven Fog. He had written a report on the dead students a few days ago and believed there was something true here that everyone was ignoring.

He was driving down a narrow road when a thick fog suddenly descended in front of him. The car’s headlights were only visible three feet ahead. He turned on the radio, but it suddenly went off—a muffled whisper came from the radio, something that could not be described in words.

Within five minutes he was lost. Ahead was a wooden sign: “Welcome to Raven Fog. Population: ?”

Then he got out with his camera, but nothing was working properly. The wind was so heavy that it felt like a force was pushing him.

Suddenly, there was a sound behind him—the sound of friction on the ground.

He turned and saw—someone standing there. Tall, his clothes were wet, his eyes were completely blank. He didn’t say anything, just whispered.

Emily ran back to the car, opened the door, got in, and tried to start it. But the engine wouldn't start.

The last thing she saw was a crowd of people, the same blank eyes, silently, together, walking toward her. Then darkness.

The next morning, only Emily's car was found on the street in Raven Fog—no one inside, the door open, and the camera's memory card completely empty.

The local newspaper said: "Accident," "Lost on a hike."

But those who know, know—Raven Fog doesn't let anyone back.