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The Thing in the Fog



Estimated reading time — 4 minutes

San Diego is a beautiful place, don’t you think? The sweet and salty aroma of the Pacific Ocean drifting on a cool breeze as the warmth of the sun caresses your skin is a luxurious experience you can only enjoy on the Californian coast. However, San Diego has its share of dark dealings. The most well-known by far is the Whaley House. The list of documented hauntings is growing every day. However, it is not the biggest danger here.

It started a few months ago on a chilly and overcast night. My dog escaped from the backyard again and I went out to search for her. I walked along the sidewalk, calling her name in an attempt to get her to return.

“Lindsay! Come here girl!” I yelled, and then gave an ear-piercing whistle. I didn’t care whether or not I was disturbing the neighborhood. My priorities dictated my pet was more important than whether or not someone got 39 rather than 40 winks of sleep. ‘Why do we say 40 winks anyway?’ I thought. ‘Does it have to do with rapid eye movement?’ My train of thought rambled along for a good 2 minutes before it was interrupted by the yelp of a dog followed by a faint, distant and constant whining. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach dropped. “No.” My breath came in short bursts as I ran in the direction it came from.

The public playground.

I could only pray and hope that Lindsay wasn’t hurt. Or worse.

I slammed open the chain link fence.

Then suddenly, the whining stopped.

There wasn’t a sound in the air except for the chirp of crickets and the rustle of the trees.

My eyes darted from place to place, looking for any sign of my dog. I stumbled around, my heart rate the highest it has it has ever been and tears welling in my eyes.

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I looked under benches and in bushes. I checked everywhere I could for at least an hour before I finally gave up hope. I raised my head and stared into the sky, tears running down my cheeks, my throat burning, and my trust in God shaken. I turned back towards home with a hung head and heavy heart. I was about to leave the playground when I saw a band of purple dangling from the lock of the gate. For the second time that night, my heart skipped a beat.
It was my dog’s collar, only it was frayed far more than it was the last time I saw her. I picked it up and glanced to my left, towards the town, then right, towards the playground and surveyed the area for the last time.

I can’t believe I almost didn’t notice it.

I was starting to look away when something in my brain clicked.

I slowly, anxiously, looked back.

There was a figure standing on the other side of the playground. Despite the bright yellow streetlamps illuminating us, its skin was as dark as night. It must have been at least 7 feet tall if not bigger. Its chest was wide and its lower abdomen tapered down to nothing; it had no legs. The arms narrowed down to almost non-existent wrists. It had large hands with long spindly fingers. It was bald, it seems, and had a sharp chin.

Its eyes-Oh God its eyes-were nothing more than white specks in obsidian caverns that could be called sockets.

I stared at it for a few seconds. I took a tentative step away, ready to run if the need arose.

I didn’t think it could look any more terrifying.

I was wrong.

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It grinned, exposing small, pointy yellow teeth.

A feeling of absolute dread shot through me and my hair stood up on end.

I dropped Lindsay’s collar.

I didn’t need any more incentive than that.

I turned and ran as fast as my legs could carry me, making sure to not look back.

It seemed like ages before I finally reached my house. I burst through the door and slammed it shut behind me. I locked it, bolted upstairs to my room, and collapsed on my bed.

I sobbed.

I sobbed for my dog.

I sobbed for me.

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I sobbed for anyone that encountered that thing.

I sobbed until I fell asleep.

I woke up the next day at around noon. I felt absolutely exhausted. My legs and feet ached something fierce. I got up from bed and went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I saw my eyes were red and puffy. I had almost forgotten why. I splashed some cold water on my face and dried it off with a towel. I went downstairs and to the kitchen for a bite to eat. After eating a hearty meal of biscuits and gravy, I went to my computer.

I asked on every forum I knew and searched on every site having to do with myths, legends, and the supernatural. I could not find a single report or article of any kind about anything that even remotely resembled what I saw last night.

I was racking my brain for any other way I could go about this when I heard tapping and jingling sounds coming from my front door. My curiosity got the best of me. I went and opened it.

No one was there.

I looked up and down the street, trying to see anyone, or anything, suspicious. Nothing caught my eye until looked down to see if my mail was here.
There, on ground, was my dog’s collar.

It was shredded to bits.

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31 thoughts on “The Thing in the Fog”

  1. In order to truly pass off a good horror story, you can’t use a lot of details on the scary thing. If you look at all of the great horror writers, they give you just enough information for you to fill in the gaps of the story. What is scary for one person might not be scary for another person, so it’s more important to indicate that the “monster” is doing something terrifying rather than focusing on what it looks like. I actually enjoyed this, though, don’t get me wrong. I just want to help you improve as a writer.

  2. 5/10… I found this one too verbose and kind of exhausting.. I did like the owner/dog relationship though, as I would be absolutely frantic if my little Jack Russell ran away on a foggy night.. poor puppy!

  3. I thought it was really good, and despite everyone else, I enjoyed the description of the monster. Maybe I visualized it differently than most but I still thought it was creepy.

  4. To start off, I gave this pasta a 6/10. It wasn’t the greatest. loved the beginning buildup and thought it had great potential, but once you got to the description of the monster it ruined your storyline. It wasn’t scary to me at all, especially since it had no legs. Also, some of the statements you used were very cliche to me, and some of the descriptions unrealistic of what people are actually thinking, such as your outlook on the good side of the city. And sorry about this last one- I’m really picky- but in my opinion, “I” was extremely overused. The majority of your sentences started with it, so just some advice on the next pasta you write is to use a bit more variety with your sentences.
    Overall, you have good potential as a writer if you keep on working and fix a few things.

  5. Uhmmmm. The “monster” sounds almost exactly like a replica of slenderman only it eats dogs not children. And where is the fog???

  6. There wasn’t any fog. Unless “fog” means playground.. In which case it should have been called the thing in the playground. I was waiting for the fog because I knew there would be a thing in it.

  7. This pasta started out with a non-pertinent introduction explaining “dark dealings” in San Diego. I say its non-pertinent since unless the creature is some kind of mobster then I doubt it has many “dealings” going on. The writing structure was refreshing and different then I heard the monsters description. “its eyes oh god its eyes” doesn’t say much. This coupled with a slenderman build and his eyeless jack style eyes almost makes the monster unoriginal. The setting and concept were two of the major bright points. I would have liked to have seen the encounter with a more ominous feeling by utilizing the fog to conceal the monster for a while and give a since of mystery about it. The character’s actions kind of bothered me too. She never really seems terrified, it’s hard to scare an audience if the person experiencing the event doesn’t feel fear. The originality and writing structure were excellent which give me high hopes for your future. My advice is really let the development of both your characters and creatures. The more attached readers are to the characters the more “real” it feels.

  8. This seemed decent at the start but the monster was a giant let down and the lack of any real confrontation or feeling real terror. Even the character never feels any terror and has no trauma afterwards.

  9. G@$P $(R3AM UND R|_|N

    This was well written and had a fluent and consistent plot. I also liked when they indented one sentence by itself when they wrote about their encounter with the monster. And the end result is them finding the dog’s collar, shredded to pieces, making a clear indication of what happened to the dog. I really enjoyed this one a lot. 8/10

  10. I gotta agree with AppleWedge (usernames on the internet always make me type weird sentences). It feels like it was all build up, Act 1 of what could be a great pasta, but no final payoff. The story kept me engaged, and for the most part I enjoyed your writing styles. I did feel it slipped into the melodramatic character with the sobbing and losing faith in God. Not that those aren’t relevant and believable emotions (I cried like a baby when my cat died), but just that the manner used to convey this was a little over the top, especially when contrasted with his behavior after waking up the next morning, which was pretty nonchalant about his poor dog. Nitpicky criticism, I know, but it still felt a bit off to me. Also nitpicky, but the title is “The Thing in the Fog,” but there is no mention of fog in the story. I kind of liked your monster description. It was creepy and something somewhat different, even if the line about the eyes was a bit cliche. I think it could flow better as a description, but it is an interesting idea, and one I’d like to know more about. Unfortunately, the plot did not develop enough to help me understand why I should fear this character. Overall, I like what is here, but I feel it just sputters out without ever really reaching its full creepy potential. Thanks for an enjoyable read, and happy writing!

  11. I wrote a leangthy response to this story, but it looks like it was deleted or not uploaded for some reason… Oh well. I won’t repeat everything I had written before, but I’ll repeat the basics.

    I enjoyed your pasta. It wasn’t fantastic, but I could tell that you are a decent writer (with potential to be even better). The playground was a really creepy place to host your monster. As I read up to the monster encounter, I turned on the lamp next to my bed in preparation for the scare that was about to come. Unfortunately, despite the build up, your monster description was not scary and reminded me of the Pokemon “Haunter”. This failure to scare me with your monster killed your fear factor, and I turned my bedside lamp back on as soon as the scene ended.

    Keep writing. This pasta wasn’t great, but it displayed your potential as a writer very well.

  12. Random Pasta Lover

    Good story, although the ending was a bit anti-climatic. Also, statements like “His eyes-oh God his eyes-…” are a bit overused and seem to drop the level of the story by a notch or so. 7 out of 10. If the ending was a bit better, it would’ve gotten a 8-9 out of 10.

  13. I was enjoying the story until I got to the description of the monster. Unless it could summon some kind of satanic wheelchair that could go from 0 to 60 in less than 4 seconds, then a legless monster doesn’t sound very frightening. Also, considering the worry & affection you showed toward your dog at the beginning, I doubt if you would have slept ’till noon, and then just -Ho,Hum- ate some biscuits and gravy, while completely blowing off your missing canine companion.

    Poor Lindsay. With a callous owner like you, maybe she’s better off being digested by a handicapped beasty.

    1. I understand your disapproval of legless monsters, but just what if this monster had levitation powers? Not all monsters are within the comforting bounds of logic.

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