The young woman strode down the moonlit street. Fog, rolling in from the sea, billowed around the hem of her skirts. She much preferred these older cobble streets. They were one of the few remaining to be lit for the most part by the full moon herself with a few gas lanterns along the way.
Her thoughts wandered. Focusing, not on the path she walked along nor on the fog that grew thicker and larger, but rather on the events of her evening. A girl her status rarely received such a proposal from such a source. She smiled so sweetly at the memory before feeling a tug on her ankle.
She picked up her foot – or tried- before something yanked it back to the stones. She heard soft whispers begin surrounding her, the precise words still lost amongst the vapor.
The woman lifted her skirts to see a cord of fog wrapping its way around her ankle and up her leg. Another tendril grabbed hold of her other ankle and quickly wrapped its way around and up her other leg. She felt similar tendrils wrap around her waist, and tug her arms against her sides.
She whimpered as a cold cord slithered up her back and around her throat. The whispers grew into murmurs, then mutterings, then chanting in her ear.
She had a brief moment to panic, a split second to utter the beginnings of a scream, before the fog overcame her completely. The tendrils around her legs pulled them out from under her and she was pulled into the dark and mist.
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