As The Mist Swirls
It was a real head-scratcher, George. The dame was as sane as you or me, maybe even saner. She remembered her name, too. Misty Swirl, she said. Odd name, but she had laundry tags to back it up: “This Belongs To Misty Swirl.”
Here’s the kicker, George. When I grilled her, she couldn’t remember how she got here. Not even where she hailed from. And trust me, it wasn’t from around these parts. She had an accent that was out of this world.
But the real twist? She knew every grisly detail of the murder, down to the last drop of blood.
Misty’s eyes had that faraway look, like she was seeing the scene all over again. “It was a dark alley,” she began, her voice steady but haunted. “The kind where the streetlights barely reach. The victim was lying there, sprawled out, lifeless. Blood pooled around him, glistening under the dim light.”
She paused, taking a deep breath. “There was a shadow, Detective. A figure, tall and menacing, standing over the body. I couldn’t make out the face, but the silhouette was clear as day. And then, just like that, it bolted. Vanished into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of footsteps.”
Misty’s gaze met mine, her eyes filled with a mix up of emotions. “I don’t know who did it, but I know what I saw. And that shadow… it’s still out there. I wasn’t until I wandered off a ways that I realized I didn’t know where I was or how I got there. By the time I pulled myself together the police showed up and arrested me right there on the spot. I had a smear of blood on my face.”
That’s what she said George and you know I believe her when she says she didn’t think she killed anyone. She just found the body.
“I must have touched something with my hand Detective then brushed my face. There’s blood on my fingers too.”
“Do you see a weapon Ms. Swirl?”
“A knife. The shadow was carrying a knife in his left hand Detective.”
Look George. If it wasn’t for the blood on her fingers and cheek I would let her go. But there is blood and its being tested to see if it matches the victim.
“Detective. Has the body been identified?”
“No George. It hasn’t. There was no ID, no wallet. No Nothing.
We decided to head back to the crime scene, hoping to find some clues that might have been overlooked. Misty was still in the back of my mind, her haunted eyes and the blood on her fingers and cheeks. As we were driving, my phone rang. It was the lab.
“Detective, we have a situation,” the voice on the other end said, urgency clear in their tone. “The body… it’s gone.”
I nearly swerved off the road. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Vanished. We went to check on it, and it wasn’t there. No signs of forced entry, nothing. It’s like it just disappeared.”
I hung up, my mind racing. This case was getting stranger by the minute. I glanced at George, who was looking at me intensely.
“What?” He croaked.
“That was the lab George. The body has disappeared. I think we better get to the scene, now,”
I said, stepping on the gas.
The alley was just as dark and foreboding as Misty had described. But now, it felt even more sinister, knowing that the body had vanished without a trace.
As we approached, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. The shadows seemed to move, and every sound was amplified in the eerie silence. We had to find out what was going on, and fast. The shadow Misty saw was still out there, and now, it seemed, it had taken the body with it.
As we pulled up to the alleyway there was Misty.
George said, “But we left back at the station in custody.”
“Apparently she escaped George.”
As we got out of the car Misty came toward us. Behind her was the body and the shadow but the shadow turned and ran off. I occurred to me just then that it was night time. When we left the station a half hour earlier it had been the middle of the afternoon.
Misty said, “How did I get here?”
I looked at Misty, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. “Misty, stay right there,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. George and I approached her cautiously, our eyes darting between her and the shadowy figure that had just fled.
“Misty, do you remember anything else?” I asked, trying to keep her calm.
She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t know how I got here. One moment I was at the station, and the next… I was here.”
George and I exchanged a glance. This was getting more bizarre by the second. “George, call for backup,” I instructed. “We need to secure the area and get Misty back to the station.”
As George made the call, I turned my attention back to Misty. “Misty, can you describe the shadow again? Anything you remember might help.”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “It was tall, Detective. Taller than you. And it moved so quickly, like it was gliding. I couldn’t see its face, but it had this… presence. Like it was watching me, even when it wasn’t there.”
I nodded, taking in her words. “Alright, Misty. We’re going to figure this out. But first, we need to get you somewhere safe.”
Just then, George returned. “Backup’s on the way. We should get her out of here.”
As we escorted Misty back to the car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. The shadows seemed to close in around us, and every sound was amplified in the eerie silence.
I got in the car and waited for George and Misty but they were gone and so was the body and all the back up cops. It was just me and the night, the neon lights and a shadow standing in the alley way. A shadow with eyes that flickered from red to green and orange, just loke a traffic light.
A man walked into the alleyway. Misty Appeared out of nowhere. She just blinked in. Then the shadow attacked the victim stabbing him only once, straight in the heart. Misty screamed. She hadn’t mentioned that before.
I watched her kneel down and touch the victim after the shadow fled. She wiped her cheek and a red smear appeared.
I got out of the car, my heart pounding in my chest. The shadow was still there, holding the knife, its eyes flickering like a traffic light. “George?!” I called out, my voice echoing in the alley.
The shadow turned towards me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glint of recognition in its eyes. But then it bolted, disappearing into the darkness once more.
I hurried over to Misty, who was still kneeling beside the body, her hands trembling.
“Misty, are you okay?” I asked, helping her to her feet.
She nodded, her eyes wide with fear. “Detective, that shadow… it looked like George.”
I glanced around, my mind racing. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
As we made our way back to the car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was more than terribly wrong. It was a nightmare. George was missing, and the shadow… could it really be him? And if so, what had happened to him?
We drove back to the station in silence, night’s macabre events pressing down on us. When we arrived, I immediately called for an all-points bulletin on George. We needed to find him, and fast.
Hours passed with no sign of George. The station was buzzing with activity, officers combing through every lead, every clue. But it was like he had vanished into thin air.
Just as I was about to lose hope, my phone rang. It was the lab.
“Detective, we have the results from the blood test,” the voice on the other end said. “The blood on Misty’s fingers and cheek… it matches the victim.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “And the victim? Any ID yet?”
“Yes, Detective. The victim is George.”
I nearly dropped the phone. “What do you mean, George?”
“The DNA matches. The victim is George.”
“Ok wise guy. How do you explain that I was just talking to him and hour ago when the murder happened in the middle of the night?”
“Are you OK. Detective.”
“Why.”
“You don’t remember. George disappeared a week ago.”
I hung up, my mind reeling. How could George be the victim and the shadow at the same time and why didn’t I remember George had disappeared a week ago. I knew he had.
I thought “Misty. What’s going on? How you are involved in all this.”
Misty shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t remember how I got here.”
***
A year had passed since that fateful night, and the detective found himself in the common room of the asylum, the sound of the heavy doors closing behind him. He sat across from Misty and George, both of whom had been committed with the detective after the bizarre events that had unfolded.
Misty looked much the same, her eyes still haunted by the memories of that night. George, on the other hand, seemed different. There was a calmness about him, a sense of acceptance.
The detective cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Misty, George, it’s been a year. I need to understand what happened that night.”
Misty’s eyes met his, filled with a mix of fear and confusion. “Detective, I still don’t remember how I got there. It’s like my mind is a fog, and every time I try to recall, it slips away.”
George leaned forward, his voice steady. “Detective, I’ve had time to think. That shadow… it wasn’t just a figure. It was a part of me, a manifestation of something dark within.”
The detective frowned, trying to make sense of George’s words. “What do you mean, George?”
George sighed, his gaze distant. “I don’t know how to explain it, but that night, I felt a presence. It was like I was watching myself from the outside, unable to control my actions. The shadow… it was me, but it wasn’t.”
Misty nodded, her voice trembling. “I saw it too, Detective. The shadow had George’s eyes, but there was something else, something sinister.”
The detective leaned back, his mind racing. “So you’re saying that the shadow was a part of you, George? And it took over that night?”
George nodded slowly. “Yes, Detective. I don’t know how or why, but it was like a part of me had split off, become something else. And that part… it killed.”
The detective took a deep breath, trying to process the information. “And the body? How did it disappear?”
Misty shook her head. “I don’t know, Detective. One moment it was there, and the next… it was gone. Like it had never existed.”
The detective stood up, pacing the room. “This doesn’t make any sense. How can a body just vanish? And how can a shadow be a part of someone?”
George looked up, his eyes filled with a strange calm. “Detective, sometimes there are things we can’t explain. Things that defy logic and reason. All I know is that the shadow is gone, and I feel whole again.”
The detective stopped, turning to face them. “And you, Misty? Do you feel the same?”
Misty nodded, her eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. “Yes, Detective. I don’t understand it, but I feel like a weight has been lifted. Like the darkness is gone.”
The detective sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. But one thing is clear: something happened that night, something beyond our understanding.”
“Who are you talking to Mr. Ramsley?”
The Detective looked up at the attendant dumbfounded.
