#writephoto — The Fog

72AE3B0D-C449-49EE-BCC7-AEC7CD234053Ted was taking his early morning jog along the paved path that cuts through the center of the park. He loved this part of his run, with the trees on either side of the path and a canopy of green leaves overhead. At this time of the year, the rising sun was casting long shadows across the path.

Like every other morning, there were just a few other regulars jogging in the opposite direction who Ted would acknowledge with a head nod or a hand wave as they passed one another.

Ted noticed an unusual mist up ahead. More than a mist; a fog bank, actually. He chalked it up to the morning dew condensing and didn’t give it much thought until he saw one of the joggers heading his way out of the fog. The man was stumbling a little and was clutching his chest. The man finally fell to his knees and Ted thought he might be having a heart attack.

Rushing over to the man, who was still on his knees, Ted could see a look of desperate panic in his eyes. “Is it your heart?” Ted asked.

The man, who was having difficulty breathing, shook his head, pointed back to the fog from which he had just emerged, and, in a raspy voice said, “Turn around. Run.” With that, the man fell flat, unconscious.

Ted pulled out his cellphone and dialed 9-1-1. “There’s a man on the path in the park who needs emergency assistance. Please send someone immediately.” Knowing that there was nothing further he could do to help the man, Ted stood up and moved slowly toward the mist.

As he got closer, he could see the bodies of a few other joggers along the path. They all seemed lifeless. His instincts told him to turn around, but his curiosity drove him forward.

Within minutes he was surrounded by the dense fog and his breathing becoming labored. He saw some sort of dark, shadowing figure with red eyes coming toward him through the mist. He squinted his eyes to try and decipher what he was seeing, but what he saw didn’t make any sense to him.

Ted tried to turn around and run, but his body was frozen in place. Then he heard what he could only describe as some strange, piercing, banshee-like scream, just before losing consciousness.

Waking up in a what appeared to hospital room, Ted found a call button and pressed it. Three dark figures with red eyes floated into the room.

“Ah, you’re finally awake. We thought we lost you,” one of them said.

“The lesson learned is that we will have to limit our agents to no more than one year of infiltration,” another said.

“Exactly,” a third one said. “You were there for two Earth years, THRG, and we almost lost you to the human life form you were inhabiting. Fortunately, our extraction team pulled you out just in time to save you.”

Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent.

DGC — Copycat Crime

18C81C22-6F39-4915-A67D-6F26CA264B94Victoria was a lady of the night, a woman some in town referred to as a harlot. She was often confronted by hateful looks and derisive talk and hurtful gossip from the other women in the village, but she really didn’t care. She was an intelligent woman who was simply taking advantage of her God-given physical blessings in order to make a living, and she was making a more comfortable living than many of the men in the town.

Victoria felt secure being out after dark in the small, picturesque, and relatively safe hamlet because she was often in the company of men she knew. But when she didn’t show up one morning at the house she shared with two other women, her housemates went to see Constable Ainsworth.

Victoria’s body was found next to the gate under the arch in the center of town. Her throat had been cut and her abdominal organs removed, the same MO as the infamous Jack the Ripper. But all of the Ripper’s killings of prostitutes had taken place in the seedier sections of London’s East End.

Constable Ainsworth’s challenge was to determine if the notorious London serial killer had shifted his venue from the big city to this sleepy little hamlet, or if Victoria’s brutal murder was the work of a sadistic copycat killer.

Ainsworth had an inkling that the killer was closer to home and he had a pretty good idea who was responsible. He paid a visit to the home of the highly regarded Dr. Jekyll.

Written for the new Daily Genre Challenge from Teresa, aka The Haunted Wordsmith. Teresa provided the photo by Gerhard Gellinger at Pixabay, and has challenged us to write a story using the “Historical Mystery” genre, a mystery that takes place in a specific, recognizable period of history, with an emphasis on the details of the setting.

#100WW — The Playground

D6CA8589-4619-4362-B667-F3CBFB94D152.jpegThe mayor and members of the town council were all beaming and smiling, touting the achievement, and patting themselves on their backs for finding the money in the tight town budget. The whole town turned out for the celebration when the town’s new playground opened.

It turned out that the land was acquired well below market price and the contractor supplied the playground equipment at a deep discount.

Unfortunately, a few years later ugly the truth was uncovered. The land upon which the playground was built had once been a toxic waste site.

The repercussions will be felt for generations.

(100 words)

Written for this week’s 100 Word Wednesday from Bikurgurl. Also for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (repercussions).

FOWC with Fandango — Repercussions

FOWCWelcome to August 1, 2019 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “repercussions.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

The issue with pingbacks not showing up seems to have been resolved, but you might check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.