[M] The Fog [IC]

[Mfable]

RATED MATURE FOR DRUG AND ALCOHOL ABUSE, SEXUAL THEMES, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

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You feel the excitement welling up inside of you as the island comes into view. The lush green of the island and light greys of the buildings contrasted nicely with the reds of the evening light and blues of the ocean waves. It was a beautiful sight, and one you would be a part for an entire week. In your mailbox just a few mornings ago was a letter and a ticket, inviting you to spend an entire week on the resort island, all-expenses paid. There was no explanation, but it seemed to you like the letters were distributed at random, and you were just a lucky winner. Regardless, it was not an opportunity to pass up.

The boat docked at a long dock made of light wood, perfectly treated and well preserved. A young man or woman, dark and handsome and dressed all in whites, bows to you and offers to take your bags in a thick islander accent. He leads you off the dock and up a winding pathway to a large building overlooking the beach. Taking you to your room, marked with your name, he sets the bags down and bows once more before leaving. Despite the excitement, you seem rather tired from the long trip overseas. You lay your head down to rest and quickly fall into a deep sleep.



You awaken to a thick fog creeping in through the window, and as you look around your room, even in dark morning light, you can tell this was not the same place you had fallen asleep. The bed you are laying in is dusty and in shambles, wooden splinters and raggedy cloth sticking out every which way. The room is filled with shattered and broken furniture, and the very walls and ceilings are falling apart. In every corner of the room, scavengers skitter about and large cobwebs claim the shadows.

As you leave your room, you realize the entire building looks like it has been abandoned for many years, and looking out the window you find the island to look much the same. There are no signs of life out there, only the fog gripping a crumbling and abandoned little resort. Through the fog you eye the docks, crumbled and half sunken, and not a boat in sight. As the panic begins to fill you, you hear the sounds of others awakening in other rooms, equally confused and just as afraid as you. You almost feel safer as you sigh in relief… until you hear the mist replying back.

[AngelFire]

Zuly sighed deeply, her eyes fluttering as they opened to the darkened room. Through blurred eyes, she sat up from her bed, groaning at the mild headache that started to throb in between her temples. Where the headache came from she wasn’t sure, normally the mild tranquilizer she took for traveling by boat didn’t have this effect. After a brief moment, her dark eyes registered her surroundings. Everything was faded, almost as if she’d slept for over fifty years in here, and nobody took care of the surrounding area. What seemed like new furniture when she came in now splintered wood with faded cushions. Her mind raced trying to figure out how she got here, making her mild headache burst into a brilliant fire of nerves.

Her boss told her to go on vacation to recoup after a particularly tough case, and she had found an invitation to an island resort. From there things got a bit spotty, most likely due to the tranquilizer she took more often than she should have. She distinctly remembered landing, or whatever sea folk called it, and she also remembered the cute blond girl whom escorted her to her room. Another groan left her lips as her fingers glided through her short tresses, frustration starting to take over.

First things first, she needed to check her luggage for her weapon, just in case something were to happen. With great effort Zuly pushed herself from the rickety queen sized bed, that she distinctly remembered looking brand new when she went to sleep. Even though her limps felt too heavy, she powered to her bag, tossing the flap open her eyes looking for something very specific. She knew it sounded paranoid, and in normal cases would have been improper, but she brought her Glock just in case something happened. Who could blame her, she worked murder cases in New York city, paranoia came with the job.

Seeing the deep black object nestled safely into her hip holster with her badge attached, Zuly breathed a breath of relief. There was a moment of pause, before she heard a movement coming from another room. Her fingers pulled the holster on, gun safety off and in position, before her mind could process what was going on. She spared a quick glance to her clothes, happy that she was too tired to change into her pajamas. With her gun drawn, she slowly made her way to her door, a breath stopping in her throat. She pushed forward, making sure to fully observe the halls as she followed the sounds to another person’s room. Though she didn’t feel good about giving her position away, she knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer, gun still in hand, but lowered so not to scare anyone who answered.

[Biophysicist]

A surreal dream about swarms of murderous bats gave way to a headache, and Camille drifted into painful wakefulness. She muttered something that was probably intended to be an expletive and pulled the covers back around herself. She'd been so sure she'd sleep well - oh, this place had seemed so charmingly rustic; she definitely didn't remember the sheets being so light or scratchy, or the mattress so thin. Camille shivered through her thick flannels. She flipped onto her side and curled up for warmth, but to little effect.

What time was it, anyway? After tossing around for several increasingly irritating minutes trying to get comfortable, Camille decided to find out. Her left hand snaked out from under the thin blankets and flipped her sleeping mask away from her eyes - red and black flannel matching her pajamas, a present from a college boyfriend who she still thought warmly of, and she let herself drift back into those memories as she let her eyes adjust. Ah, those years...

It was a few hours past midnight, Camille concluded. A sort of faint grey light struggled in through the window, and she could barely make out the moon in the far corner. Had she really left the curtain open?

Camille readjusted her sleeping mask and laid back down, hoping to get back to sleep, but her mind wouldn't leave the curtain. She'd definitely shut it. She remembered shutting it, and besides due wouldn't have changed in front of an uncovered window.

Was she being watched? No, of course not. She'd woken up from a bad dream in an unfamiliar room, that's all. She'd probably just pulled the curtain back to look at the stars. If someone was in her room, she'd have definitely heard it. Besides, rustic-ness aside, she really didn't feel like getting out of bed, and besides all that she'd locked the door. Camille turned over again, looking for a less lumpy section of mattress, fussed with the covers, and yawned.

She had locked the door, hadn't she?


Camille sighed. She sat up in bed, letting the scratchy covers fall away from her. She moved the sleep mask up onto her forehead - yes, the curtains were wide open. She sighed again as she tossed her flannel-clad legs over the side of the bed and sleepily stumbled over to the window.

It was foggy out. The stars were obscured and the moon was a vague smear off to the right. A vague sense of dread came over Camille. Between the fog, the hour, and not wearing her glasses, she couldn't make out much, but what she could see wasn't what she remembered.

A knocking at the door startled her out of her contemplation. The door! She still hadn't checked the lock!

The knock repeated itself, and Camille startled into action. On her desk was a thick hardcover book, a collection of the writings of Arthur C. Clarke, and if she had to defend herself it would be better than nothing. She also retrieved her glasses and tucked them behind her ears. She picked up her phone in her right hand and flipped it on, glad for some sort of light source. With a deep breath she crossed over to the door, and with another she opened it.

Camille swore. "Suis-je en...", she began, trailing off as she realized her error. "Am I under arrest?"

[Radialactive]

The travel was nauseating. Kelly kept asking himself, “How did I let them convince me to go?” The plane ride was bad enough, but he couldn't make it to the port fast enough if he took a train. He had managed to get on the plane, but from there the sleeping pills had to take over. He timed it just a little off. They were on the runway when he started to pass out. Just enough time to start freaking out and hit the service button once or twice to ask about how much longer till they took off. He was still groggy when he was stirred awake by the flight attendant he had bothered several times before takeoff. The pills lasted a bit longer than the flight, even with trying to adjust for it. Eventually, by the time he made it to the docks of the island, he was feeling more himself. He was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful woman that greeted him and led him to his room. He was hoping to see her again after he woke up. He was suddenly exhausted from his travels.

When he woke, he thought it was just a dream. He would have weird dreams sometimes after taking the sleeping pills. He looked around and was surprised by how vivid this dream was, the drapes were ragged, there were rats skittering across his floor, startled by him awaking. The bed was tattered, his blanket rough and untwining around the edges. As Kelly slid his hand over his mattress, he felt a pin prick on his middle finger that caused him to jerk his hand back. His finger was pierced by one of the springs that had penetrated the upper cushioning of the bed. As he looked at his hand, blood slowly beaded and dripped down his finger. His mind started to race a little. He looked around a little more hectically. He went to the sink, boards creaking and snapping back at him as though they would grab him and pull him through the floor. The fog that was slowly rolling into the room seemed to wrap tightly around him with each new step rather than part for him to pass. However, as he walked into the bathroom, hesitantly going through the busted door, he looked at the sink with some hesitation. Not exactly sanitary.

“This is really just a dream, right?” But it seemed as though something, or someone, was saying that no, this was no dream. He slowly walked to the sink. Peeking at himself in one of the few shards of glass left, he only saw one side of his face, perspiring with the stress of his situation. Can you even sweat in a dream? Kelly could not bring himself to answer that. He tried to turn the water on, but it just growled at him and nothing came out. Unfortunately, his finger had not congealed yet.

He heard some knocking outside, but not at his own door. After an endless moment, it was followed by someone speaking, but he wasn't able to make out the words. They may have been in another language. He slowly crept to his bags, barely able to keep his eyes off the door, and his heart screaming for quiet with every step. He glanced down to see them covered in dust and a hole chewed through one of the pockets where he had kept the bag of nuts he bought at the port. He opened the bag to grab a T-shirt to put pressure on his finger when a rat he could swear was the size of a football scuttled out of the hole in his bag!

“Yah-hhhaaagh!,” Kelly yelped as he pulled away from the monster, nearly losing his balance and stomping back a few steps.

He then remembered he was trying to be quiet and hoped to god this was all just a dream with the ruckus he just made.

[Tuvineo]

The trip to the island was uneventful and relaxing for Tolbert. This was the first real vacation that he had ever taken and he was determined to enjoy every moment of it. When Tolbert got off the boat there was a man there ready to take his bags and show him to his room. He thought about asking the bellhop where he could get a stiff drink, but he was suddenly feeling exhausted. Ain’t no harm in some rest on vacation. After that I’ll get me something to drink, he thought. Tolbert continued following the man with his bags through the halls to his room.

Once they had arrived at his room and Tolbert was alone he put his gun on the nightstand with his knives. He didn’t bother to unpack anything and just proceeded to strip down to his boxers, leaving his expensive clothes strewn across the floor. He flopped over into bed and sleep seemed to take him as soon as he closed his eyes.

Tolbert started awake as he did every morning, chased by one demon or another from his past. This time was different though because it seemed he had awoken into a nightmare. This room, while bearing some resemblance, was not where he had fallen asleep. Instinctually he reached to the nightstand where he kept his Tokarev. The sudden movement crumbled the rotten legs of the bed on the left side of the bed, spilling him off the bed and into the nightstand. The nightstand, which was already in the process of falling apart, did not stand a chance against Tolbert’s weight and was crushed beneath him. Termites spilled from the rotten, half-eaten wood around him.

Tolbert blinked to try to clear the fog from his eyes before he realized that it was wafting in from the window. He breathed deeply in through his nose to calm his racing heart and the room smelled musty and rotten. He watched the insects scurry away from him, the spiders working their webs, the crumbling ceiling. Tolbert felt a pang of something resembling nostalgia. This was almost like the shithole that was his childhood home. At least the furniture weren’t rotted through back in the holler.

Tolbert had no idea what was happening. He half expected to wake up any second. But the pain of falling seemed real enough and he had a feeling things would get worse before they got better. So he decided he’d rather not get caught with his pants down, literally and figuratively. He retrieved his gun and knives from the pile of wood that used to be the night stand. He then made his way to his luggage and found some blue board shorts and a white polo to wear. The clothes were nice, but looked odd on his tattooed and scarred body with his shaved head. He put on his running shoes and then strapped on his knives and gun with his two extra clips. He picked up the partially empty box of 7.62 ammo from his bag and dumped it into his hand and then put the loose bullets in his pocket. He didn’t know what he’d find outside this room, but he sure as hell was going to be ready to kill it. He just hoped it was something he could kill.

As he was making his way to the door he thought he heard some knocking and maybe some people talking. And then a yell. Tolbert drew his gun and gently pushed on his door. It immediately fell off the hinges and hit the floor in the hallway with a thud. Tolbert sighed at his failed attempt at stealth and quickly peeked around the door frame into the hallway. Before he could get a good look in either direction down the hallway, he heard a sound like breathing coming from behind and quickly whipped his gun around to point at where he thought the source of the sound was. His gun was pointed out the window. He slowly moved to the window and looked outside. What he saw made no sense to him. The island looked like the same island he had arrived at the night before. Except that based on the condition of the island, the night before must have been years of complete neglect ago. Tolbert did not see anything that could have made the noise.

Tolbert had the self-awareness to know that he wasn’t the smartest and most learned person, not even close. But he knew that what he was seeing was impossible. He backed away from the window. He had heard the sounds of people and decided to go looking for them. Surely someone here would know what was going on. And people were a tangible threat that Tolbert could deal. He walked into the hall with his gun at his side.

[The Texan Queen]

“Jesus.” A panicked hand gripped the armrest of the plane seat as the plane jerked the passenger awake. The person sitting next to her chuckled and reassured her that everything was okay. At first the soft bumps of turbulence lulled her to sleep, but that last bump was so violent it scared her awake. Freckle covered hands ran through her dark locks as she tried to calm herself back down, she couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that seemed to rising. It’s just turbulence, that’s perfectly normal, just breathe. Once she realized this weird feeling was here to stay she decided to call for the flight attendant since the seat belt sign hadn’t come on yet.

“Can I help you?” A bubbly blonde asked as she reached her seat.

“How much longer until we land?” Worried eyes locked with the flight attendants.

“Not too much longer, the pilot will be coming on and speaking here shortly. Anything else?”

“Thank you, and no I don’t need anything else,” A forced smile dismissed the flight attendant from her row. She let out a sigh as she leaned back into her seat and prayed that the flight would end soon. Flying was never her favorite form of travel and probably never would be her first choice in travel. She would always chose driving over flying, but since you can’t exactly drive to an island she had no other choice. The pilots voice came over the speaker and gave the typical landing speech. Talked about the landing, when they would land, the weather, thanked everyone for choosing to fly with them and told them to look out their windows to see the beauty around them.

The dark haired woman reached over and pulled the window cover up so she could look out an get a look at the island. It was like laying eyes on the island washed away that weird feeling. Even though staring down at the large mass of water below made her stomach sink, she couldn’t help but smile when she laid eyes on the island. Coming here was more than a vacation for her, it was a time for celebration, and she couldn’t be more excited to get off this damn plane and do some celebrating!

Once the plane was on the ground she wasted no time in grabbing her carry on items and charging off the plane to catch the ferry. The second she was off the boat she was greeted by a cool island breeze and the smell of the ocean, she stopped and took a moment to soak in the feeling of relaxation setting in.

“Sofia!” A couple voices called out from behind her. Turning around she saw her group of friends she was traveling with.

“Hey! Aren’t you guys glad to be off the plane?” Sofia asked as she passed hugs all the way around.

“Yes! And we plan on hitting the bar to kick start the night!”

“Okay! I think I’m going to stop by my room and take a cat nap, traveling always takes it out of me. I’ll meet y’all there in…let’s say thirty minutes?” Sofia arched her brows in question. They all agreed and the group went off to find their rooms. Sofia stood behind and watched them leave, a feeling of pride and accomplishment washing over her. The group she was with were her trusted business partners and they were here to celebrate her fashion company’s success. Her little sentimental moment was interrupted by a very beautiful island woman who was asking to take her things and wanted to guide her to her room. She handed over her things, minus the camera bag, and followed behind her so she could snap pictures along the way. Sofia liked to take pictures of everything. It was one of the ways she got inspiration for her designs and she was also a shameless scrapbooker, so the more pictures the merrier! She snapped picture of the beautiful scenery, the beautiful island people, the goofy looking tourists and some of the birds flying over head. Before she knew it they were at her room and her things were being neatly set down by her bed. She thanked and tipped the woman and kind of shooed her away quickly, that big bed was calling her name. Throwing herself onto the cloud of a mattress she felt herself sink away into a deep sleep.

---

To get up and pee or go back to sleep, that is the question. Sofia thought to herself as she laid in bed with her eyes still closed. She had woken up a few minutes ago, the nagging feeling of needing to relieve herself woke her. The longer she lay awake the more aware of how sore and achey her body felt, she really didn’t even want to move because of how stiff she felt.

“The bar!” Sofia gasped and suddenly didn’t care about how horrible her body felt anymore. Yanking the covers off her she stumbled out of bed and ran to the bathroom to start getting ready. She flipped the switch but the light didn’t come on, groaning she raced to the front of the bedroom to turn that light on only to find that it was no longer working either. Her eyes finally adjusted to the dark and she jumped back against the wall. Where the hell was she? This was not the room that she first walked into. The floors looked rotted, the furniture was in shambles, the bed had dirty sheets on them and there was a thick layer of dust around the room. Just as she was about to leave her room she heard a knocking, followed by muffled voices and then a scream.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Sofia whispered and dove for her bags. She had to find her cell phone and call someone! She was tossing clothes and art supplies as quietly as she could, but there was no phone to be found. Another string of curse words left her mouth as she tried to decide her next move. Should she hide? Try and sneak out? Or just go balls to the wall and take off running? She went with hide and yanked open the closet door to find a laundry basket inside. Without hesitating she grabbed it, flipped it over and shook out whatever could be inside and then crammed herself in it. I am going to hide here until I feel like it’s safe…then….then….I don’t know…I guess I try and find the others…

[AngelFire]

Zuly waited a moment, before knocking on the door once again, she could hear someone moving inside of the room. If she came across as impatient, that wasn’t her intent, but some odd things were happening. Her eyes danced across the splintering wooden floors, as she waited for the person on the other side of the door to come. The distinct memory of a newly placed wooden floor flashed in her mind’s eye, this hallway was the same she walked through earlier, just aged.

When the door opened, Zuly glanced at the young woman who opened the door. Her eyes danced across the woman’s features, taking in as much information as she could. Late twenties, dark hair, blue eyes, two maybe three more inches taller, not a threat. Zuly’s brow creased at the question, what did she mean under arrest? That is until the police officer glanced at the handgun laced into her fingers.

“Oh, sorry.” Zuly breathed, putting the weapon into it’s holster at her him. “My name is Zuly Adisa, I work for NYPD Homicide division.” She paused, glancing back down the hall, her fingers not leaving the butt of her gun. “What is it that you last remember?”

[Biophysicist]

It wasn't until the gun went away and Camille exhaled that she realized she'd been holding her breath in the first place. The woman standing before her was of similar size and build, but she gave off an air of professional coolness that Camille found calming. That and the pistol at her hip - quite calming, that, now that it wasn't pointed in her direction.

"I'm called Camille," she said, in a voice that sounded calmer than she felt. "Camille Laurent." Her voice didn't have much of an accent, but she pronounced the name as a Frenchwoman would - Ca-mee Laur-on. "The last thing I remember is..."

The window, the curtains, the overwhelming sense of someone else present with her... Camille shuddered.

"The curtain was open," she said. A tremor of nervousness came to her voice, though she did her best to keep it steady. "I know I shut it last night. The curtain was open, and the door wasn't locked. Madame, I fear-"

Camille's phone display shut itself down, removing what little light she had. An involuntary shudder wracked her body, and a gasp escaped her mouth before she came to her senses. She shook her head, embarrassed, and fumbled for a pocket to put the phone into before remembering that she was wearing pajamas.

Camille sighed. Being awoken so unexpectedly always had this effect on her, and it never got any less embarrassing. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to collect her thoughts, stifled a yawn, and stepped closer to the other woman to speak quietly to her.

"I fear someone was in my room," she said, almost whispering. "I would not have left the curtains open overnight, I would certainly not have left the door open, and something woke me up." She glanced down the hallway furtively.

"If you are looking for a murderer, madame" she said, "I am doubly afraid."

[DCaesar of Wakanda]

The young man was sprawled across what was a pretty old, dingy mattress, though, he didn't move around. He'd slept on much worse in his lifetime. Only problem was, that the air felt thick, and a little bit humid. Thick like smoke, but it didn't have the pain in his lungs that smoke actually gives. So what the fuck was going on? Groggily the eyes of the athletic young man opened. It was pretty hard to open them as they seemed glued together. He rubbed them. Damn. He knew he shouldn't have had so many of their little sandwiches. But they tasted so good though. Left him tired enough to just crash, not even take off his sneakers.

After becoming the victor of the battle with his tired eyes, he looked up at the ceiling. Or, as much of it he could see. It was hella foggy in here. He blinked a few times, just thinking that his eyes didn't warm up to the lighting just yet. Okay, so, it was foggy in here. First thought was a fire, but again, the air didn't smell of smoke, but more so, like a mildew-ish smell. He pushed himself up.

How the fuck was it foggy inside the building?

Though, examining the room further, it did not look like the room that he fell asleep in. At all. He didn't sleepwalk himself all the way to like an abandoned part of this resort or somethin....did he? Oh hell naw. This was the wrong spot to be in. This room looked like some old horror movie type of room. Michael wasn't with that shit. He got up out of the bed and whipped his head to the door as he heard more voices. Once the scream was heard, Michael decided he wasn't gonna stick around. He grabbed his phone from up off of a nightstand. No signal. Well, that just sealed it. Wasn't a way in hell that Mike was stayin here. He knew this all expenses paid paradise island resort stuff was sketchy.

Damnit Leonard....Alright. Exits. There was a window and a door that he assumed led to a foggy ass hallway. He knew that whoever set all this up was probably gonna want him to go through the hallway, he played too many scary games and avoided too many scary movies. So, he walked to the window instead. Nope, too foggy to see the ground. He sighed to himself, looking back at the door. The chick from the Grudge better not be on the other side of this door, he swore he'd go out swinging....

Twisting the knob, he pulled the door open real quick. When nothing was there, he half sighed in a small form of relief, but looked out. He noticed a lady standing out in the hallway with a gun. Was she five-oh or....well, whatever, anybody could get a gun these days, so the weapon was probably one of the least scary things he'd seen in his life. He debated on saying something in the event that she was a cop, because maybe then, she'd know what's going on.

Though, at the same time, it still didn't feel right. He decided that he was gonna try to get outta dodge, not stick around with them. Michael went to walk out of the door and start down the hallway to try and hurry past these folks. Another thought tugged at his mind. These were other folks from the resort trip too. So, did they know something he didn't? Would they tell him if they did?

Michael stopped walking and momentarily looked over his shoulder at the women. "Scuse me, but either of you know what's goin' on round here?"

[Mfable]

Everyone

A deep and low groan echoed through the house as though it was aware of its own disrepair. While likely just the wind traveling through the rotting and broken structure, it certainly seemed quite spooky and ominous. From their vantage points in the hallways and rooms, most of those trapped in this nightmare together could see the fog get thicker as it blanketed the house. A sudden cacophony of laughter erupted from the fog as the skittering and scampering of large animals echoed from the roof of the building, above the second floor gaming hall. Both disappear within seconds of when they started, and the building is once again eerily quiet.

Sofia

Sofia could barely hear the noises of the creatures on the roof or the laughter from the fog as she hid in the laundry basket, but the sound was enough to distract her from the feeling that something thin and soft had been snaking its way up and around her right leg. As soon as she noticed, the thing tightened and tugged, pulling her right out of the basket and across the closet, and always half way up the wall. It stopped as soon as she could see what was around her. She was alone in the closet still, but several sweaters now hung from the dowel in the closet, a change from when she had covered herself with the basket.


(Everyone except Sofia loses 1% Sanity; Sofia loses 2% Sanity.)