The Mist - 7 Days of Hallowe'en Day 3 (I'm so far behind) - Nov 1

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Napoleon was gone.

Illya cautiously leaned over what remained of the crumbled stone balustrade, but could see nothing through the thickening mists. Not that it would matter, as anyone who fell from the cliff top would have little chance of survival. He called put his partner’s name, but the sound was muffled by the fog.

The two agents had been enticed to the ancient house, which looked as though it had grown from the cliff-face, on the promise of learning Thrush secrets. Upon reaching the top, having climbed the rickety stairs which led up to the house, Napoleon and Illya were confronted by an exceptionally panic-stricken man. He had glared at them wildly, and was screaming something about the mist being alive. Without warning the man threw a small package at Napoleon, shouting ‘here, have it!’.

Instinctively, Solo had reached out to catch the package. He’d succeeded, but lost his balance; falling against the time-damaged masonry. The stone had broken away, causing Napoleon to tumble of the edge of the cliff.

That had all happened only ten seconds previously.

Illya stood in silent shock. His partner, his best friend, was gone. Before he could even begin to think of how he would tell Waverly, his attention was drawn to the mist. In front of his eyes, it had begun to swirl and shift. To Illya’s utter disbelief, it lifted Napoleon Solo up towards him, and carefully placed him on solid ground. It then receded and reverted to its original state.

Napoleon and Illya stared at one another without speaking. Neither of them had the words to describe what had just happened. Holding up his hand, Solo showed his partner that he still had the package.

“I hope that is worth all this,” Illya stated flatly, trying to keep the tremble from his voice.

Solo didn’t reply, other than to jerk his head in a signal they should leave. All he wanted to do was get back to the office, then head out for a drink; or five.

.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Ewww a living fog, definitely creepy! Niice use of the prompt. Yeah, five drinks sounds about right.

This perfectly illustrates how Halloween-ish stories can easily suspend all rational belief.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Thanks cuz :-)

The beauty of a Hallowe'en tale is that you can write absolutely anything and no-one with question the reality.