1.1

The fog hung heavy, making the night even colder. I walked slowly along the edge of the dock, the old wood groaning under my feet with each step, each creak echoing my own loneliness.

The water slapped softly against the wooden posts, a quiet rhythm that only emphasized the silence around me. Far off, in the dark woods, an owl hooted a lonely sound, a call that resonated with the emptiness in my own heart.

The air was damp and smelled of the sea, a familiar scent that usually brought comfort, but tonight, it only reminded me of how far away everyone felt.

I pulled my jacket tighter, but it didn't help much against the chill that had settled deep in my bones, a coldness that went beyond the weather. It felt like something was watching me, even though I couldn't see anything in the thick fog, and the feeling only deepened the sense of isolation.

The newscaster's voice, a jarring intrusion into the quiet of my room, replayed in my mind.

"...a 25-year-old man is missing. His jacket, found at the scene, was covered in blood..."

The words hung in the air, sharp and cold, like shards of glass. It wasn't just a news report, it was a punch to the gut, a visceral blow that sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. Eli... Eli. The name felt heavy, weighted down by a sudden, suffocating grief.

A sharp, vivid flashback pierced the present. The feel of his hand in mine, warm and reassuring; the sound of his laughter, bright and carefree; the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. All of it now tainted by the chilling image of his blood-soaked jacket. He was more than a childhood friend, he was someone special to me.

The news report had only confirmed what a cold dread had already whispered in my heart. He was gone. And the blood… the blood screamed of something far worse than a simple disappearance. A wave of icy fear washed over me, leaving me trembling in the aftermath.

I sigh deeply, rubbing my hands together in a futile attempt to ward off the chill. No, he wasn't dead. I knew it, somehow. I refused to believe the news report. And yet, I found myself on the path leading from the lake, retracing Eli's likely steps. Our favorite spot since childhood, the forest now loomed like a jagged, black wall, its shadows tangled and menacing.

I pictured him: restless, perhaps, but responsible. Dependable, even when life threw curveballs. I remembered how he always answered his phone, even during his long shifts at the auto shop, his sleeves rolled up, hands stained with grease.

But now? Nothing.

My phone buzzed. Hope sparked in me, but it was only a generic notification.

I sank onto the dock’s edge, legs dangling just above the water. The fog swirled, cold fingers reaching out to brush my face like invisible hands. I closed my eyes and let the memories flood in.

I remembered when Eli and I were children, running wild along this very shore laughing, chasing fireflies, daring each other to jump into the ice-cold water. We had promised then, under the summer stars, that no matter what happened, this lake would always be our refuge.

So why did it feel so empty now?

The messages I had exchanged with Eli teased at something bigger — some secret unearthed, maybe even danger. The cryptic “I’ve got something to show you” felt like a keyhole glimpse at something I desperately wanted but was kept out of.

As the wind shifted, carrying the sharp scent of pine mixed with something faintly metallic and unfamiliar, my heart thudded against my ribs like a warning drum.

I pulled out Eli’s last message again, fingers trembling. “Same place. I’ve got something to show you.”

What was it?

Had he found something?

Was he in trouble?

A sudden chill ran through me, not from the cold, but from the growing realization that I was standing alone in the dark, while the person I cared about most had simply vanished.

I fumbled to call him once again. The voicemail chimed the same cruel message:

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable.”

No. No. No.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, taking a deep breath. Panic clawed at my chest, but I forced it down. I needed to think. To plan.

The town of Ravenswood had always been small, close-knit, yet tonight it felt immense and alien, holding secrets I never wanted to unearth. I glanced toward the dim glow of streetlamps in the distance, wondering who else might be awake and worried right now.

I pictured Eli’s face again — calm, determined, the way his dark eyes lit up when he was onto something. Always the adventurer, always curious. Maybe too curious.

I pulled out my keys and phone, deciding to check the places he usually went — the 24-hour diner downtown, the auto shop where he worked late sometimes, the old train station abandoned years ago but still full of meaning for those who grew up with ghost stories.

I hesitated only once before stepping off the dock, the fog swirling around my feet like a living thing that breathed with me. I didn’t know if I was chasing shadows or the truth, but I couldn’t stop.

Because if Eli was out there somewhere…lost, scared, in trouble, he wasn’t going to find his way home alone.

And I would be damned if I left him to disappear into the night.

The streets of Ravenswood felt different at night — quieter, but beneath that quiet, an undercurrent of unease. Storefronts were dark, windows boarded or shuttered, and only a few flickering streetlights fought off the thick fog that had begun to settle over the town.

I moved quickly, my breath forming spiky clouds in the cold air. My phone’s flashlight barely cut through the gray haze, but it was enough to guide me toward the diner, a place Eli occasionally stopped when he needed a break or a friend.

Pushing open the heavy glass door, I was met with the usual ding of the bell, but the interior was empty. The once lively chatter and clinking of dishes had been replaced by silence. The waitress, who usually nodded hello, was nowhere to be seen.

I scanned the room for any sign of him, an handkerchief left behind, a cup of half-drunk coffee, but there was nothing. Just the faint hum of a refrigerator and the distant tapping of rain beginning to fall lightly against the windows.

My heart sank further.

If Eli had been here, he’d have left a mess, a clue, something.

I left the diner with growing unease. Who else might know where Eli had gone? Or rather, who could he have told?

My mind raced as I pulled my jacket tighter, the cold sinking deeper into my skin. I needed help, but who could I trust?

The police hadn’t seemed interested. Detective Garcia’s dismissive attitude still echoed in my mind.

But I knew I was right to worry.

Eli wouldn’t have vanished without a trace. Not without telling me, not without warning.

And the longer I waited, the more I wondered what dark secret the fog was hiding deep in Ravenswood.

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