He came.


The students were studying, mulling around, minding their own business. There were not many of them in the area, probably less than ten. The weather that day, as those who still can remember, or will remember, was fairly hot; one of those days that seemed like the sun was suspended, the air was still, and everything just stopped and froze in the heat.


Then he came.


He was normally an imposing sight, covered in a single raiment of white. That day, however, he was dressed just as anybody else would. He looked slightly more pleasant than normal, and as if to underline that, when he spoke, the tones were moderated, calm; quieter.

"Err, i have to alert you all," he said, at this point looking around the compound, eyes wide open.

"They will be coming around in a while, the..." he hesitated, as if gesturing at the surrounding furniture could make up for his sudden lack of expression, "fog-people, that is."

The students stared, unclear at the meaning of the statement, but having said so, he quietly suggested that the students leave the area for the moment, head up, elsewhere.


Then he left.


One might be inclined at this point to look at him in disdain, for leaving us all. Yet in such times, those who can go should do just that. The others, the rest, the remaining, we should find our own ways out.

I tried, I can tell you now that I tried. We all did.

I don't know if we should have.


So we left, went up, grabbed a few knick-knacks on the way, enough for a short time away. Notes, food, drink. And we all left. The funny thing is that I never saw all of us leave, some went elsewhere, some stayed behind. I only know something, and don't question me about this, 'cos I'm not going to say it one time more.

I never saw them again. Nobody talked about them then, and no one's talked since, but I know. We all knew.


The walk up was uneventful, we all moved quietly, quickly. The quiet hum grew slowly in intensity, and we walked, guided by our ears alone, away from it.

"So where we headed?" I asked. I didn't think it would be so long, I thought we would be back in a while.

"There's an alcove up two floors. We can go there." One of them suggested that.

"Up? Again? Can't we just stay here," I said again, sitting myself down.

"Yes again. There's space there for all of us. We can stay there till the fog-people are gone." So we left. We headed up, again, up where the fog-people wouldn't go. I should have stayed where I was.

I don't even know why, but I think I shouldn't have gone up.


I can't remember all the details now. It's too long ago, to hard to remember. I know we ended up near the pond. We didn't go to the alcove, whatever, wherever that was. We met another student there. She was alone. It was then that we saw, and we heard.


The fog-people came, and did their work. Carrying long, gunlike, machines that belched out volumes of white fog, they came. The fog didn't look too scary at first, just looked like, well, fog. It came with a smell, pungent, acrid even, it made you fell like the back of your throat was made of rubber.


The fog-people had been around for a while then, and we heard a girl scream. It was sharp, loud, piercing even in that day when the weather was so hot it everything seemed to be suspended and dead. It was cut off, however. Mind you not silenced or muffled. Cut off. Like the girl just disappeared.

Maybe it was the fog, 'cos I remember thinking there wasn't even an echo.

Maybe it was the fog-people.


I think i saw a faint shadow, a silhouette, of that girl. Disappearing quickly into the fog, so fast I wasn't even sure of what i saw.


I can't continue. I've got to rest.

I've got to go now.

Go up.



to be continued...