The Stranger in the Mist

As I ran on down the path I came to a gloomy dark wood. The trees stood still like they had cement on their roots; it went on for ever and ever with a ghost like mist running through it. In the mist I faintly saw a figure standing like a solider. The cold delicate breeze ran down my spine and gave me a bad feeling. The mist got thicker and thicker, the figure I could barely see now: what was the figure? A person, or a sign post, or a ghost?

Suddenly I looked back but nothing, it was a dead end. Now I was frightened the figure now coming towards me like lightning, I looked side to side but there was no escape. The mist now gone, all gone; I could see the figure all black, none of its skin showing. I didn’t care about what he looked like though I just tried to run anywhere I could, but there was nowhere. The black outline reached out its hand almost to my face, pushing me back, but I couldn’t do anything.

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