The Missing

He stood in the shadows, waiting and watching. The knife in his hand was already dripping blood from its pointed tip but he didn’t notice. His fingernails were crusted in dry blood, and he hadn’t noticed this either. His eyes were dark and feral. By his feet, there was a body with all its defining features cut away. It would never be identified. After a few moments of waiting, the ground moved under the body which sank into the cobblestones beneath it. Soon, the only evidence that the body ever existed was dripping off the knife clasped in the killer’s hand.

Now that the disposal was done, he left the shadows.

The streets were dark and empty, The streetlamps did nothing to dispel the fog that had gathered in the city. It was a thick blanket that muffled every sound and obscured every object. The few times that the man did come across a stranger, they couldn’t see him through the blinding fog and he quickly veered away. His journey was not as random as it seemed. The whispers in the fog told him exactly where he needed to go. The beings kept him safe so long as he kept them fed. They lived beneath the ground and the fog was their vessel. It was his vessel too.

They moved wherever the fog took them. Occasionally they came across a town or a city where they could have a meal. The man, Tony was his name, always left the town with a fuller belly and a darker conscience.

Tony didn’t mind the weight on his shoulders. It kept him down on earth, not like the others who believed they controlled their own lives. They didn’t know what came in the fog, didn’t believe such a thing was possible.

He didn’t quite understand how the things in the fog worked. He didn’t even understand how he knew what to do. It was as if they implanted the ideas in his head. They were whispery ideas, not always completely there. If Tony tried to grasp them fully, they slipped away from him. He learned it was best to just let them be, to do what felt right. The creatures in the fog would keep him on the right track. They wouldn’t let him be wrong.

Tony was unsure how far he had walked or for how long. There was no sense of time or direction in the fog. He felt no pain, no exhaustion. For a moment, he began to wonder if he was even alive. This train of thought was interrupted by a new thought. A whispery thought. A thought that came from the fog.

It was a name. A person. Annabelle? Annalise? Annie? Tony could see someone approaching in the fog. The vague blurry outline of the person gave Tony a small flutter of excitement and a grin spread across his face.

It was a woman. It was always a woman. As far as Tony could tell, they tasted sweeter to the creatures in the fog. He skirted around her, being careful to use the fog as a shield so that she couldn’t see him. Tony got behind her and he could feel the fog shifting with him, changing direction so they didn’t lose the woman. After a few moments of following her, he knew there was an alley on the left side of his path. Tony needed somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted. He lined it up perfectly and grabbed the woman, pulling her into the alley. He clamped his hand over her mouth to stifle her screams as he went about his routine, preparing the meal for the creatures in the fog.

Tony noticed that there was a chain around the girl’s neck. Attached to the chain was a teardrop shaped crystal. When he was done, and the blood was drying on her skin, Tony carefully undid the clasp and took the necklace. He held it up in front of his face, smiling as looked at the way it sparkled, even in the gloominess of the fog. He was so enthralled by it that he didn’t notice the body sinking into the ground, but once it was gone he knew it was time to move on.

Tony slipped the necklace into his pocket and let the fog lead him on.