This is the end.

It finally got us.

A monster is outside the door and I won’t be able to write anything useful.

If someone is reading this, please remember us, please remember we existed.

Please tell my little girl that papa love her and I’m sorry. Her name is Bell Acuno.

The fog, run if you-

*Much is stained with blood and unreadable*

-A bloody note-

It is early in the morning and the shore bathe in fog. The wind blew cold, frigid and whipping. The clouds are gathering, falling with slight drizzle.

I parked my car near the beach, but far from the reach of the incoming high tide.

There is something in moments like this that captivate me. Perhaps it is that feeling of the unknown, that inches away in the fog and under the waves there could be something weird swimming or maybe a pair of eyes watching.

Couple that with the loneliness and the fact that I can be here with only my thoughts. I like it that way. Well, minus the weird creatures and eyes, those are just my imaginations running wild.

It is oddly comforting to be away from people and the hassle of life. No bills to worry about, groceries, work, and house chores. Here I can relax until it is time for work or anything I have in my schedule. It is something that people often skip, a break, after all who can take a break when they need to put food on the table? None. I guess it is my privilege to live alone with no one to support, though life isn’t complete without someone to live with. I wonder when I’ll meet that person.

Standing up, I dusted my clothes and pants of any sand before looking at my watch. The arms tick at 8:30 AM, just enough time for me to drive back to town. Staring up, the clouds are turning dark and the wind is picking up. The light drizzle turned into droplets soaking my clothes wet.

I sprinted towards my car and bolted in, just in time for the rain to caught up and bombard my windshield in heavy droplets. In the background the sky rumbled with thunder, crackling with heavy snaps as well as lighting up with cracks of lightning.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Wiping my body dry, I proceeded to drive after taking a glance at the once peaceful waves turned sharp by the rocking winds. People as early as me are running from the beach, their hands above their head with anything they can use as cover. I find it funny that they swim and yet they are afraid of being wet under the rain.

I passed by occasional homes, but otherwise dense trees. Their windows are shut and covered in curtains, but life can be seen with their shadows casted on their bright windows.

Something is strange, odd fog is slowly settling on the road. Now, I wouldn’t mind it, but something about it makes me feel...uneasy. It is like I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be, a place I don’t belong in, an eerie ecosystem a human shouldn’t walk on.

As I drove closer to town the trees are fading among the fog unaffected by the wind and rain. Their vague shapes flutter with the wind, branches and leaves pulled back by the punishing storm. Crackling sounds can be heard deeper in and I’ll assume those are branches snapping from trees, but they don’t sound quite...right. Their crackling reminiscence more of popping joints.

I can’t see the road so I turned on my headlamps, though it barely helped. It is quiet out here, I don’t know if it is the fog or just me, but I barely hear anything. Granted the car helped with muting the sound, but still it is eerily quiet. The storm is gone too, leaving a soaked road.

A sudden sound on my side made me jump, a motorcycle just passed by and barely missed my side mirrors. Uncaring, the motorcycle faded into the mist.

“Damned motorcycles” I whispered with hushed breath as I regain my composure.

I don’t like them, they drive without a care and it often lead to their death. To drive that past in here with poor visibility and slippery road is a death sentence on its own. I shook my head at the thought of it, hopefully not.

To my reassurance, more vehicles passed by, lit in the fog by their head lamps. A part of me sighed relieved, lifted from the creeping isolation of silence.

The forest lifted space into fields of grass beside the road, their leaves waving softly in the wind. Among the grasses, a huge sign came into view despite its blurry letters and outlines.

“Welcome to Sta. Maria” It says.

Lit houses lined the road, their lights glowing like eyes. Blurry shapes move through them, vague silhouettes of limbs and clothes. They crowd to houses, extending their hands to get bottles for each of them; some cheered.

I sighed under my breath “Drunkards.”

They populate this place like flies, plaguing the street with their ramblings and complaint, and disturbing our night with their karaoke. They are a nuisance, but it appears that having connection with the barangay captain benefits their stench.

Soon enough I reached my house, a two story with blue roof and fenced windows as well as a double door. Grabbing my keys, I unlocked the gate and drive my car into the garage, the fog flooding in with in quick notice, but quickly faded upon the closure of the garage.

Sitting on a couch, I made my decision, I’ll take a day off today.

/-Please let me know of grammatical errors I missed.