It came with a fierceness none could describe.
Black fog misted over the entire village, thick and putrid—like rotting blood. It crept through the forest, slithering across meadows and harvesting fields, poisoning crops and slaughtering soulless animals in its wake.
The Spiritless were the first to go—the most vulnerable. The mist seeped into their pores, floated into their lungs, as they continued their day's work: an old woman chopping vegetables for that night's feast, a young man and a girl hiding away, stealing sweet kisses.
Unknowing of what evil was to come.
The day crept on slowly, torturously, acts of violence becoming more and more. The old woman cutting off her own fingers, eyes open unnaturally wide, a twisted smile stretching over her sharp cheekbones. A little girl who'd been learning how to wield a chopping knife cried out as blood squirted into her eyes. Her trousers now cold with piss, she ran off to seek her mother for comfort.
As she ran, her footsteps splattered in mud tainted with red. Blood ran down the dirt path, thick and heavy, staining the earth's surface with its treachery. The young man who once shared a kiss, now lay in a heap on the ground. The young woman knelt over him, licking the blood from a long dagger-like hair pin, letting out a shrill laugh.
The girl made it to the Vitali hut before the mist, sobbing, her mouth fumbling over unintelligible words, her heart beating out of her chest. Her mother hurried her inside and shushed her, looking out the window of the enchanted cement building, cured by herbs and charms warding off evil. The mist poured over every surface, and with it, the villagers blood.
Those who were able to make it to the Vitali's hut, were safe, and watched in horror as families tore each other apart, violating each other's bodies. They were unrecognizable, hungry for death, carrying out unspeakable acts towards their loved ones and driven by madness. A pair of red eyes slowly crept over the hut, locking eyes with the little girl, as though it were saying you're next.
This darkness endured for two nights, the sky a pitch-black void, while the obsidian moon hung overhead, tainted and sick with plague.
