The caravan loomed out of the mist like a broken tooth, every inch of it smothered by spiderwebs and entangled autumnal leaves, but that didn't stop them from attempting to seek shelter inside. Everyone they'd ever known was somewhere far worse than them, the fog liked to spit you out wherever it fancied and for these five strangers, it was some coastal caravan park.
Glancing about it seemed the rest of the park had fallen to the sea, or whatever liquid was at the base of the cliffs. The fog was still too thick to see much more than a foot before you. Still, everything behind them was worse and they found solace in their shared misery and the mystery before them.
While they appeared to be on good terms already as they used the old newspapers and strange driftwood scattered about the place to clean the webs from the door, they all suspected the rest to be illusions. The fog had done it countless times before and it wasn't showing any signs that it planned to stop any time soon.
Out of the five, only one had actually experienced a mist-based mirage before and knew the others were probably real. The mist wasn't very good at close-ups and they were able to even touch the others, gently brushing against them and apologising ("It's just so bloody hard to see in this!") while gauging their humanity.
So far they were able to say for certain that three were real, the fourth always managed to skirt away from their accidental bumps. They were either really averse to touching or they were a mirage waiting to trick the group into joint suicide/lure this dimension's creatures to the caravan/generally attempt to kill them so the mist could feed on their pulsing flesh.
None of them expected the spider who'd spun those webs to still be around, to be quite so large and to be tucked neatly away in the caravan to await its next meal. The mist-mirage didn't even have the chance to push anybody off the cliff. Such a let down, and not in the way it had wanted.
Glancing about it seemed the rest of the park had fallen to the sea, or whatever liquid was at the base of the cliffs. The fog was still too thick to see much more than a foot before you. Still, everything behind them was worse and they found solace in their shared misery and the mystery before them.
While they appeared to be on good terms already as they used the old newspapers and strange driftwood scattered about the place to clean the webs from the door, they all suspected the rest to be illusions. The fog had done it countless times before and it wasn't showing any signs that it planned to stop any time soon.
Out of the five, only one had actually experienced a mist-based mirage before and knew the others were probably real. The mist wasn't very good at close-ups and they were able to even touch the others, gently brushing against them and apologising ("It's just so bloody hard to see in this!") while gauging their humanity.
So far they were able to say for certain that three were real, the fourth always managed to skirt away from their accidental bumps. They were either really averse to touching or they were a mirage waiting to trick the group into joint suicide/lure this dimension's creatures to the caravan/generally attempt to kill them so the mist could feed on their pulsing flesh.
None of them expected the spider who'd spun those webs to still be around, to be quite so large and to be tucked neatly away in the caravan to await its next meal. The mist-mirage didn't even have the chance to push anybody off the cliff. Such a let down, and not in the way it had wanted.
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