Whispers in the Fog

**Whispers in the Fog**

The fog crept in thick that evening, shrouding the town in a dense, spectral veil. Jenna hated fog. It made her think about the night her brother disappeared—when he went into the mist and never came back. That had been ten years ago.

Tonight, the fog was worse than ever. It clung to the streets, muting sound and twisting shape. Jenna wrapped her coat tighter around her shoulders as she ran home from work. She hated being outdoors in weather like that.

Then she heard it.

A whisper.

She came to a dead stop, her breath trapped in her throat.

It was fragile, half-gone in the mist, but she knew that she wasn't imagining things. It was a voice—soft, distant, one she recognized.

"Jenna…"

Her heart froze.

She whirled around, sweeping her eyes across the empty street. Streetlights' pale haze hardly filtered the fog.

Then—motion.

A silhouette drifted between patches of fog, too tall, too thin.

Jenna's heart pounded. The whisper came again, louder now.

"Jenna… come back."

Her brother's voice.

Her legs locked in position. This wasn't possible. He'd been gone for years. They never recovered a body, only his footprints disappearing into the fog. and then nothing.

Her breathing was shallow and quick. This was an illusion. The fog was deceiving her brain. She had to make it home. Now.

She turned and hastened quicker.

**Footsteps echoed behind.**

Jenna swallowed hard. The sound was quiet but constant, matching the pace she kept. She pounded down the wet street as hard as she could, her boots thudding. The footsteps grew faster.

The whisper became a plea.

"Jenna… don't leave me again."

She walked to her building and struggled with the keys, shaking hands. The footsteps caught up to her now.

She jammed the key into the lock, turned—

A chilly hand brushed across her shoulder.

She shrieked, spinning around.

There was no one there.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she staggered in, banging the door closed. She pushed her back into it, heaving chest.

Silence.

Jenna pinched her eyes shut, trying to calm down. It wasn't real. It *couldn't* be real.

Then—something **thudded** on the other side of the door.

**Knock. Knock. Knock.**

Slow. Measured.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.

The whispers came again, seeping through the cracks in the door.

“Jenna… let me in.”

Tears burned her eyes. “You’re not real,” she whispered. “You’re not real.”

The voice shifted, warped. It no longer sounded like her brother. It was deeper now, wrong.

“Open the door,” it demanded.

Jenna backed away.

The knocking became violent, shaking the door in its frame. The lights flickered.

Then—silence.

For what felt like an eternity, Jenna stood stock still, hardly daring to breathe.

The fog outside pushed against the windows. Something loomed just beyond it. Waiting.

A final whisper slipped through the keyhole.

"You should have come with me."

The lights died.

And Jenna was never seen again.

---