The Mist of Dusk

Neel went back to his hometown, which he had abandoned years prior in pursuit of better opportunities, on a calm evening. The town was shrouded in a gentle, gray mist as the sun began to set.

Slowly, the fog moved in, snaking across the small streets and casting familiar figures in shadows. It was the kind of evening when everything seemed to be in suspended animation, as though time was holding its breath.

Neel stood beneath the ancient banyan tree, which held many childhood memories for him, and which was now covered in a whirling mist of twilight. He looked around, attempting to identify the faces and locations from his past that had once been his world.

However, something felt... off. The mist seemed to carry more than just water; it was as if it held a secret or an untold tale that was just waiting to be revealed. The air was thick, almost heavy.

As he walked further, Neel noticed the familiar path leading to the lake, the one he used to visit every evening with his friends. Tonight, however, it looked foreign, the outlines blurred by the fog. He hesitated. Was it the same path he knew? Or had the town changed in his absence?

Without thinking, his feet carried him down the mist-covered road, the distant sound of crickets the only break in the silence.

The trees on either side of the path stood tall, their branches disappearing into the fog, casting eerie shadows that seemed to sway with the wind. But there was no wind. The mist hung still, too still.

Suddenly, Neel heard it—a soft, indistinct sound. Was it laughter? Or was it just the wind playing tricks on his mind?

He paused, listening carefully. The sound came again, this time clearer. It was a woman’s voice, faint and distant, like an echo from another world.

“Who’s there?” Neel called out, his voice breaking the stillness. No reply came.

He quickened his pace, curiosity driving him forward. The mist thickened as he neared the lake, and the silhouette of a figure slowly came into view.

A woman stood by the water’s edge, her form barely visible through the swirling fog. She was dressed in white, her long hair falling over her shoulders, blending into the mist around her.

Neel’s heart raced. “Excuse me...?” he called out, unsure of whether to approach or turn back. The woman didn’t move.

She stood perfectly still, gazing out over the lake as if waiting for something—or someone.

His steps slowed as he got closer. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, but still, there was no response. The woman remained silent, her eyes fixed on the water. Neel stopped a few feet away, the mist curling around him like cold fingers.

Suddenly, the woman turned, her face pale, her eyes wide with an emotion Neel couldn’t quite place. Fear? Sorrow? He couldn’t tell. Before he could say anything more, she whispered, “He’s coming.”

Neel’s blood ran cold. “Who?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed toward the far side of the lake, where the mist was thickest, swirling in unnatural patterns. Neel followed her gaze, squinting into the fog. At first, he saw nothing, but then... something moved.

A dark shape, barely visible, slowly advancing through the mist. It wasn’t clear what—or who—it was, but it was coming closer.

The woman backed away, her expression full of dread. “He’s always been here,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Waiting.”

Neel’s heart pounded in his chest. The mist seemed to close in around him, the air growing colder with each passing second. Panic surged through him, and without thinking, he turned and ran.

His feet pounded against the damp earth as he sprinted away from the lake, the woman’s whispered words echoing in his mind.

“He’s coming...”

By the time Neel reached the main road, the mist had begun to thin, and the sounds of the town returned—distant voices, the clatter of evening markets.

But Neel didn’t stop running until he was far from the lake, far from the mist that had held him captive in its eerie embrace.

He never returned to that path again. Whatever he had seen—or thought he had seen—remained a mystery, lost in the mist of dusk, where shadows whispered and memories faded like smoke.