The One Behind the Mist

The forest had gone quiet — too quiet.

After the mysterious voice of the boy faded and his soul vanished into light, we thought it was over.

We were wrong.

A cold wind suddenly swept through the trees, and the vibrant greens of the jungle seemed to dull. The air thickened, and something stirred deep within the mist that began to form around us.

Shimon immediately stepped forward, his eyes sharp.

 “This isn’t natural. Get ready.”

Mira drew closer to me, whispering,

“I feel something… ancient. This isn’t just another monster.”

From within the mist, a figure slowly emerged — cloaked in black rags that fluttered like shadow. No visible face, only glowing white eyes that stared directly at me.

 “Memory Weaver,” the figure rasped, “You’ve seen what lies beneath. But can you bear the truth?”

I gripped my camera instinctively. That thing… wasn’t just speaking — it was trying to pull something out of me.

A surge of dizziness hit me. My vision blurred.

And then — click — my finger hit the shutter.

The mist paused, and for a split second, I saw behind the creature.

A flash — a child’s face. The same boy. But now… twisted, older, and surrounded by countless shadows whispering into his ears.

“You... you’re the one who made that boy into a monster,” I muttered.

The figure lunged.