Out, walking the dog

About the author and series.

This book is part of a series, written by IP Spall, consisting of 22 short stories in total. To find out more about this book series or any of IP Spall’s other publications, head to https://linktr.ee/ipspallbooks

Many of these short stories are free, and if you enjoy reading this book, you can even buy a total collection of all the short stories for a low price! Follow the link above to find out more.

This story can be found on Amazon at: https://amzn.to/2VEy1Zq

An uncomfortable foreword

It has been said that a series of short stories must emanate unexpectedness and a sense of chilling surprise. Such a collection of stories would require a character framework that is present throughout the whole book; from tale to tale, offering the reader a chance to relate to the individual characters — their pain, their horror, their paranoia. Such a collation would also contain an underlying subplot, so all of the stories connect and relate to one another, in a weblike manner, allowing each entry to follow on from the last with some continuity, while still retaining individuality.

I gave this some thought and decided to do the complete opposite. For me, each story should be read as an individual tale of terror, and certainly not as a collective.

Each of my short stories should evoke thought, emotion, and hopefully, leaves the reader wondering what the hell happens next. Let’s face it; not everyone looks for a happy ending in the stories they read. With this in mind, let your imaginations run wild, and enjoy the unpredictability; often an uncomfortable ride.

Out, walking the dog

The Indian Summer had stretched itself out far outside of the normal parameters. It was now late November, and the weather had been fantastic, that is, up until now. The forecast for next especially was terrible. The outlook said it was going to be grey, rainy and cold, with the unsettled weather due to continue until way past Christmas. We all knew that the weather would probably deteriorate around Christmas time, but that was still a matter of weeks away, but the outlook was bleak, and it was starting with immediate effect. Today was no different; it was cold and wet, with that kind of fine mist of rain that seems to drench everything. In addition to the damp weather, a low to ground fog appeared nearly every night now, which in turn made everything feel even more miserable. The cold front from the north was gradually finding its way south, bringing with it, the rubbish weather.

On that fateful night, something strange crept into the village, spotted by only a few people who happened to venture out in the rain; they all succumb to a bizarre phenomenon, dying an uncomfortable and mysterious death. One by one, they all just vanished into the darkness of night. Although no one knew what the killer was, it quietly presented itself in the coming days, as it silently killed as many of the town’s residents that dared to venture out. Without warning and no sound, it would appear and disappear quickly, leaving no reason or explanation for its business. Instead, all that was left was a trail of silent destruction that followed in its path. No one knew where it came from or anything about it. It was just an unbelievable story that got mentioned now and then, and that wrecked the lives of families and friends along the way.

It was getting quite late when Steve came home from work on that Thursday night. He finished at 4.30pm, but due to the terrible congestion in town, he didn’t get back until 5.50pm and was upset by the time he finally reached his front door. There to greet him was Maxie, his cute little Labra-Doodle, who had only just turned two years old the week before. Being greeted with such a huge smile, and a million licks, he felt his anger and frustration quickly subside, mainly because he was so pleased to see him. All the licking worked a treat, and he eventually got his way, so within the ten minutes that followed, Steve had succumbed to his dog’s wishes. He grabbed the lead, poo bags, and coat, and took him out for a walk.

Steve and Maxie didn’t live far from a vast local country park, so it seemed like the obvious choice for a nice long walk, regardless of the weather. As they made their way over to its entrance, Steve did happen to notice the ground fog that was lurking about, but as he’d seen it a few times recently, he just thought nothing of it.

It was near to Christmas, the sun had set early, and darkness had already arrived. The path ahead was lit up by the strange orange glow of the sporadic street lamps, which the Council hadn’t updated for the last century. The orange glow of light, omitted from the aged lamp posts created a peculiar sort of guidance down the lane, back towards the park gates. The good thing was that the rain had also subsided somewhat, leaving just a damp uneasy feeling in the air, seemingly hanging in the shadows, making it darker than it was. Nevertheless, Maxie was pleased to be out, especially after being in the apartment for the whole day. Steve put his head down and just got on with it. His legs ached a bit, and after a full day’s work, he did feel a little fatigued, but he knew that Maxie needed the walk, so he started to think about what he could have for dinner and subsequently walked with a purpose. Although it was damp as hell, it was still quite pleasant and enjoyable, the night was silent, with no distractions and Maxie didn’t seem to have any complaints. Steve had a chance to unwind after a busy and stressful day at work.

The pair of them must have walked about a quarter of a mile, along the bank of a local canal; quite a wide one at that. All of a sudden, up ahead, he noticed a much thicker blanket of fog that looked a lot denser. It seemed to hang over the rivers surface and the pathway that ran alongside it. He didn’t intend on going that far; he wanted to go down to the bridge, which he could cross and come back down the other side, which in turn would then take him back towards the entrance. As he walked towards it, the thicker patch of fog was somehow consuming his concentration; he stared at it, as he slowly moved in its direction. With each step taken, Steve thought that he noticed the more abundant, denser piece of ground fog almost start to move towards him, and although he only had a few more meters before he came to the bridge, it was now close enough for him to feel a little concern. For some reason, as he approached, he had this feeling that he was in some kind of race with the thicker blanket of white stuff; Steve felt that the quicker he moved, the sheet of fog matched his speed and moved with him. He kept saying to himself, ‘surely not,’ but as it seemed too ridiculous a notion, he continued towards it. Then Maxie slowed down and stopped, just looking ahead, towards it. Maxie had his ears pricked, also showing some concern towards it. Steve then felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, as the element of fear slowly started to be felt throughout his body. The denser, unsettling blanket of fog, continued to creep towards him. Steve also stopped walking momentarily, ‘Mmm, better safe than sorry, eh Maxie,’ he said, briefly looking down at him. He decided to forget about the bridge and just turned around, but as he did, Maxie put the brakes on, just as the fog moved in closer, now only a few meters away. Maxie then started to back away, cry, and yelp a little, before he frantically began to pull on the leash. The leash straightened as it tightened against his collar. Within the following seconds, Maxie clearly started to panic and pulled so hard, that his collar eventually slipped off; Maxie then ran off, back along the river at speed, quickly disappearing into the usual ground fog that still lurked in the shadows of night.

Steve turned around to look again, noticing the thick and very dense cloud of the white stuff was now right behind him; he felt a subtle thud against his back as the mass of fog hit him from behind, slowly engulfing him in an incredibly dense cloud of the whatever it was. As it slipped around his body shape, it completely enveloped him, giving him a weird sensation. For a moment, Steve just stood there, just thinking how strange it was; there was no smell, no sound or anything seemingly different from any standard type of fog, the only difference at first glance was the exception of being just so damn thick.

A strange and unsettling feeling then began to kick in; something wasn’t right at all. Like being completely engulfed in anything, the first thing he did was to lift his hand out in front of him, Steve tried to look at it, but nothing could be seen, it was that thick. His intrigue continued; he slowly moved his hand towards his face, but he was still unable to see it. Even when Steve touched his nose, he couldn’t see anything. ‘This isn’t right’ he said openly to himself, which then suddenly sent a wave of fear all over him. He turned back towards the direction that Maxie went, or so he thought, as now he was completely blinded, unable to see anything at all. With an automatic look around, he took his first step forward, but as he did, he then heard a strange noise. Thinking it was behind him, Steve instinctively turned his head, but all he saw was white. Due to the density of the fog, he wasn’t even sure now which way it had come from; he was confused and had lost his bearings, ultimately losing all sense of direction. The peculiar noise, a dragging sort of sound, strangely reminded him of when he worked on the farm; when had to drag large sacks of potatoes across the barn floor. He now also worried about Maxie. He was generally fine off the lead and from experience, Steve knew that he didn’t like roads, so he wasn’t worried about that side of things, but he’d never seen him so scared before, which was the unsettling aspect for him.

But as those thoughts came to mind, something suddenly put the hairs on his neck back up again. He felt his body get on edge; the fog was weird, but with the strange intermittent dragging sound, which he then heard for the second time, was now a lot closer. Something inside of him was telling him to run. He looked around instinctively but couldn’t see anything but white, so with no idea of which way to go, he knew that it was now time to run and escape. He shuffled his foot in front of him, before he took a step, trying to feel the gravel of the pathway underfoot. He continued with this procedure for every step after that. As the minutes passed, he kept hearing the strange noise again, which eventually made him give up his cautiousness. He burst into a full-on run, with both arms extended outwards, running like a blind man; as he went, he kept hearing the noise, closer than ever.

A few steps later, he heard another noise, an entirely different sort of ‘pinging’ sound, a bit like a huge elastic band. He didn’t stop; he kept on moving forward, blinded, arms outstretched, and feeling for a way forward. He was now positively scared, shaking slightly, worried for his safety and worried for his dog who had been missing for a while now. Another pinging sound and something shot out of the fog at high speed, and with immense strength. He felt the pressure change and a wave of force which upset the balance within the fog. Whatever it was, it grabbed him from behind, slamming into his back with some intense power, pushing momentarily forward. A giant claw-like thing grabbed him around both his waist and his arms, pulling him to an abrupt halt. It crushed him, encasing him in what felt like a huge hand; he was unable to move, as it squeezed him so tightly. As quickly as his fear kicked in, he let out a scream, but before he even had time to finish it, he was hurled backwards at an incredible speed. His body went limp with the force of the motion; moving so fast that he felt the blood rush to his head.

He then slammed into something. Something hard and damp, and even though he was close enough to touch, he still couldn’t see anything. It smelt foul, and for a split second he had left, the smell replaced him. Upon coming to an abrupt halt, Steve felt another claw-like appendage come down on top of his head, followed by some sharp points which stuck into his neck. Before Steve had time to think or act the marks around his neck dug in and kept going, sinking deep into his flesh. Unable to move his top half, he kicked and screamed, but it was to no avail. The injury to his neck continued, then, with one almighty tug, Steve felt his head separate from his body. For a split second, he felt the wet of blood spill down his front and the stretching and snapping of ligaments and muscles.

Then, in the few brief seconds that followed, before darkness converged upon him, he felt his head put into something wet and warm. He had no more thoughts or feelings after.

The thick, dense blanket of fog continued moving down the river course towards the centre of town, where it quickly made light work of smothering everything in its path. Someone knew something, as the church bell out frantically, in a vain attempt to warn people of the impending danger. However, these were modern times, and nobody took notice of the old church. With the already wet and undesirable weather, the volume of people outside and potential casualties were much less than what they could have been. With each person consumed, the creature that lurked inside the white cloud left no traces of an attack; there were no blood spills or any evidence that the monster even existed. Apart from seeing the unnatural fog travelling across the land, no one knew what lay within or what was about to attack their town. With such a dense and thick cloud of smoke or whatever it was, collectively hundreds of people vanished that night. It travelled across two counties before a matter of hours later, the tail end of the white stuff moved away from the urban areas, quietly and subtly sliding off across the open countryside, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Silently violated, the town slumped into a state of shock. In that fateful year, just before Christmas, many residents lost their relatives and friends, just a matter of weeks before Christmas.

The story became folklore that somehow survived for many years to come. The fog never returned and didn’t attack any other town; it was just a strange anomaly that no scientist or weather expert could ever explain.

About the author and series.

This book is part of a series, written by IP Spall, consisting of 22 short stories in total. To find out more about this book series or any of IP Spall’s other publications, head to https://linktr.ee/ipspallbooks

Many of these short stories are free, and if you enjoy reading this book, you can even buy a total collection of all the short stories for a low price! Follow the link above to find out more.

This story can be found on Amazon at: https://amzn.to/2VEy1Zq