Chapter 1

Igave my invitation card to the agent screening the candidates, proud that my hand didn’t shake despite my nervousness. Plastic and completely dark, you’d never guess its purpose if you’d stumbled on it by accident. The agent waved the card in front of a scanner, then stared at his screen for a second before examining my features. He didn’t smile but kept the same neutral, professional expression his other colleagues also had plastered on their faces. Seemingly satisfied, he handed the black card back to me.

“A non-disclosure agreement was given to you along with your invitation to participate in the program, another copy of which has been handed to you upon arrival. Have you read and understood it?” the agent asked.

“Yes, Sir. I have read and understood it,” I answered.

“If you consent, please look straight into the camera. When the red light turns on, state your full name and that you agree to abide by the terms of the NDA as spelled out in the document.”

I turned towards the round camera hooked to some kind of rod. The camera moved up by a few centimeters to align with the center of my face before a red light turned on, indicating it was recording.

“My name is Naima Connors, and I agree to abide by the terms of the Fourth Division’s Mist Project non-disclosure agreement.”

The red light turned off.

“Thank you. Please proceed to the next station,” the agent said, gesturing at the counter near the two full-body scanners blocking the access to whatever awaited us beyond.

I gave him a stiff smile and nodded before complying. Another man welcomed me at the counter.

“Please give me your invitation card and all personal electronic devices you are carrying, including smart watches, phones, cameras, tablets, and anything else with the ability to record videos, audios, or images,” the man said without preamble.

We had already been warned against bringing any such items as we wouldn’t be able to keep them with us. I had only brought my phone, which I handed over to him. An exhaustive list of all other things that weren”t permitted were outlined on a display panel sitting on top of the counter. The agent placed the phone in a brown envelope, asked me if that was all, then sealed the envelope once I confirmed there was nothing else. The seal looked like a small chip. The agent waved my card over it, causing it to beep.

“Your phone will be returned to you upon your departure at the end of the Mist,” the man said. “Any metal items on you, such as keys, should be placed in this container along with your bag,” he added.

He placed my card inside a large, rectangular tray, similar to those found at airports, then pushed it my way for me to put my overnight bag in and other items. While its contents were being scanned, a female agent had me step through the full-body scanner. As I waited to recover my bag, I glanced at the other candidates going through the same process I just had.

A million questions ran through my mind as I wondered who they were and what had brought them here. I still didn”t quite understand how I personally had qualified. But these questions would soon be answered.

Or would they?

Another agent ushered me down a long hallway. So long in fact that it turned into a moving walkway. I hated that there were no windows allowing us to look outside. In a few minutes, the city defense sirens would blare throughout every town, in every country, and at the same exact moment. Then the Mist would rise, swallowing up the world in a thick fog filled with nightmarish creatures for the next three days.

This year marked the fifteenth anniversary of the dreadful day that changed the world. No one knew exactly what had caused the tearing of the Veil, which opened portals between our world and the mysterious one of the Mist. Then again, we all believed our governments were somehow involved. It had likely been some experiment gone wrong. Naturally, no one confessed. However, considering every single country on the planet had been hit, conspiracy theories implied it had been a concerted effort by our worldwide leaders. The alternative, that a single country was the culprit would give it an even greater incentive to keep quiet. If it was ever exposed, that country would never recover from the reparations the rest of the world would demand.

The moving walkway ended at the entrance of a small underground transport system. A shuttle, reminiscent of the car of a subway train, stretched the entire length of the short platform. However, its interior couldn’t have been more different. All the seats faced each other and were equipped with seatbelts that crossed over the chest. Just like the hall and corridor I’d come in through, the shuttle was entirely white, except for the dark-grey floor and leather cushion of the seats. The dozen or so passengers onboard were scattered in the space, each one having left at least an empty seat between them and their closest neighbor. I hesitated for a second before heading towards one of the only two males in the shuttle.

He looked friendly with a handsome, boyish look to him, even though he had to be in his late twenties or early thirties like me. Fit, a little on the androgynous side, his light-brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and undisguised curiosity. We exchanged a timid smile as I placed my bag in the overhead compartment before sitting one spot over from him. I buckled my seatbelt and began the waiting game.

Thankfully, the wait turned out not to be all that long with only a handful more candidates joining us onboard. The doors closed, but seconds ticked by as we remained stationary.

“Please, fasten your seatbelts so that we may depart,” said a soft and polished female voice over the intercom, startling me.

All eyes zeroed in on a petite, dark-haired, gothic-looking woman in her mid-twenties as she scrambled to rectify her omission. She appeared so mortified as she buckled up, I almost felt sorry for her. As soon as she did, a green light appeared above the four doors of the shuttle. Seconds later, it began to move, gaining speed at a mind-boggling rate. In a blink, the need for the seat belt became obvious. We were moving so fast, it felt like the beginning of the centrifuge effect one experienced on a roller-coaster.

Still, after about five minutes of this underground high-speed ride, the shuttle came to a smooth stop. Nothing happened for a few moments while everyone exchanged wondering glances. Then the shuttle shook slightly with a loud, clinking sound, as if something had grappled the car from above. The same blossoming panic I felt was reflected on everyone else’s face.

“Docking complete. Initiating takeoff,” said that same feminine voice over the intercom just as everyone seemed on the verge of freaking out.

“That”s not creepy or unnerving at all,” said the man sitting next to me.

I snorted and gave him a sideways glance. “Agreed,” I said with a nervous smile.

“The name is Riley,” he said, smiling back.

“Naima,” I replied.

“Pleasure to meet you. Might as well make friends since we’re headed into the Twilight Zone,” he added with a mischievous glimmer in his light-brown eyes.

I chuckled, agreeing with that statement as well. “I mean, I understand they don”t want us to know where the selection will be taking place, but this feels like a bit of an overkill.”

Riley shrugged. “This stuff doesn”t impress me anymore. I”m an engineer with NASA, but I”ve been studying the rifts in the Veil for a while now with other governmental agencies. This type of excessive security is becoming commonplace for me. Although, it’s never been this crazy for a mere job interview.”

“Wow,” I said. “A bona fide rocket scientist!”

He snorted and shrugged in that way of meaning ‘what can you do?’

“I”m nothing that fancy,” I continued. “I’m a psychologist. I work mostly with psychopaths and sociopaths, as well as their victims with PTSD.”

“Wow!” Riley said, echoing my own reaction to his profession. “It must be crazy trying to get into the mind of these types of patients, no pun intended. However, it now makes me wonder what makes you want to work for the Men in Black? That seems like quite a stretch.”

“I mostly work with convicted criminals of Mist homicides and their surviving victims,” I answered, knowing I would likely face the same question once the interview process began. “A better understanding of what lurks in the Mist will not only help me in my career, but frankly, it will also help me face my own demons.”

And God knew I had plenty of those. As a surviving victim myself, I still had the occasional nightmare about the incident.

“I”m really dying to know what this interview entails,” I mused out loud. “Why did it have to take place during the Mist? And where are they taking us? Even the requirements to sign up were super vague. Frankly, I still cannot believe I was selected. And now, hearing your profession makes me even more confused as to what the role will be.”

“That makes two of us,” Riley said pensively. “I know they”re looking for people with something specific. And it has nothing to do with our jobs. That”s all I could get out of my contacts in high places.”

Before I could reply, the intercom came to life again.

“Dear passengers, we are preparing for landing. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened until the doors have opened,” the female voice said. “Careful opening the overhead compartments to retrieve your belongings as the bags may have shifted during the flight. Once you disembark, please go up the escalator into the Observatory. Spread out and walk around the bay windows. Do not be afraid by what you see. Your safety is guaranteed. Continue until an agent approaches you to let you know whether you will proceed to the next stage of the recruitment process.”

Riley and I exchanged a baffled look. That did nothing to reassure me, not to mention increase my confusion level a thousand-fold. While their selection process was making even less sense to me, the female’s comment about walking around the windows was what truly freaked me out.

Heart pounding, I followed the other candidates as we filed out of the shuttle. I had speculated about a million different things that this recruitment process could involve. A part of me had known that it would be what I was certain awaited me upstairs. But I’d convinced myself otherwise. My skin heated, and an invisible weight suddenly crushed my lungs, keeping me from drawing enough air. I focused on my breathing, more grateful than ever for the escalator that spared me from also having to pay attention to where I stepped. As the landing came into view and, with it, the massive circular room ahead, cold shivers ran down my spine.

I stepped off the escalator, moving out of the way in a nearly panicked daze. Wall-to-ceiling windows surrounded the aptly named Observatory. In the time it had taken to complete our registration, security check, and travel here, the Mist had risen outside. Many of the Mist Beings lurking within had already reached our location, drawn by the lights and so many visible prey to feast on—us.

When the Mist first appeared, taking the world by surprise, countless lives were lost, devoured by the creatures dwelling within the otherworldly fog. Livestock and indigenous tribes weren’t spared. Since then, once a month, the world shut down while the Mist took over. Every house was now equipped with metal shutters and reinforced doors to keep it secured from the moment the city’s defense siren heralded the beginning of the Mist until it resounded again to announce its end three days later. No one looked directly at the Mist or allowed its dwellers to look back at them. Why tempt the devil?

But I had seen it once before. Walked within it even… against my will.

I shuddered, casting away the traumatic memory that I had foolishly believed myself far more recovered from. The overwhelming urge to turn tail and run back to the shuttle tugged at me. Pressing myself against the white wall next to the escalator, I closed my eyes and practiced the visualization and breathing exercises I often used with my patients.

This is why I’m doing this. To face my demons and put them to rest, once and for all.

It shamed me to admit it. But while being a better psychotherapist for my clients remained part of my motivation for my presence here, more selfish reasons were also driving me. Moments later, my eyes flicked open as the strong sense of being observed took hold of me.

The first thing I noticed were two of the candidates that had already been in the observatory upon our arrival being escorted back towards the escalator. Their dejected expression led me to think they’d been cut. My gaze flicked around the room to settle on a tall agent, with blond hair and penetrating blue eyes staring at me. My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach sank at the realization he was likely about to come escort me out as well.

Just like that, the burning desire to flee faded to be replaced by the urgent need to make it to the next stage, whatever that involved. I averted my eyes from the agent for fear he might signal for me to come towards him. Pushing myself away from the wall, I walked with what I hoped would pass for confident steps closer to the window on the far-left side of the room. Keeping a two-meter distance from the other candidate in front of me, I adjusted my steps to her pace as she walked the perimeter of the room.

Up-close, I could now see the incredible thickness of the windows, likely bullet-proof. It went a long way into alleviating part of my fears, unfounded though they were. After fifteen years of the Mist, it had been demonstrated beyond any doubt that the Mist Beings never attacked buildings. They would seek an opening, as they were now, circling around the Observatory, but wouldn’t force their way in if they found none.

I willed myself to gaze upon the creatures. They were divided into two groups. The biggest one seemed to be the Beasts who could go from cute to horrifying, and from the size of a medium dog to a towering behemoth as tall as a building. The second group was the Walkers, commonly referred to as Mistwalkers. They didn’t actually walk as they had no legs and resembled shadow wraiths with glowing, yellow eyes.

I shuddered, seeing a few of the Walkers close in around the windows. They almost appeared to be looking for something or someone inside the Observatory. My one and only encounter with one, more than a decade ago, had nearly cost me my life. Instead, my abusive boyfriend had perished at his hand.

As I reached the midway point of the Observatory, I forced my gaze away from the strange creature that looked like a twisted mish-mash of the xenomorph alien queen’s head attached to some kind of giant bug body with a massive stinger. It settled instead on a mammoth Beast that could have been the ungodly love child of Cthulhu, a tyrannosaur, and a praying mantis. As if it had sensed me observing him, the Beast turned to look at me.

Unlike the Walkers, the Beasts’ eyes didn’t glow yellow, but white. As our gazes locked in the oddest staring contest, I felt nearly hypnotized, like a moth drawn to a flame. Time appeared to stand still as the white light grew, swallowing me whole.

It took a few moments for the sound of the alarmed voices around me to penetrate my mind. I snapped out of my trance to find myself leaning against the window, my palms pressed against it as if I’d wanted to get outside, when I’d previously kept at least a two-meter distance from it. Startled, I took a step back only to see the dark form of a Mistwalker charging towards us.

A frightened gasp escaped me, joining the voices of the other candidates. The Mistwalker appeared to be on a collision course with the window, but at the very last moment, he tilted down and crashed into the Cthulhu Beast. It roared in pain, the sound so powerful the building shook. I shuddered at the sight of its gaping maw, filled with dagger teeth, partially obscured by the tentacles from its upper lip. It reared, flailing its praying mantis arms this way and that in a vain attempt to knock off its assailant.

Suddenly tilting forward—giving us a perfect view of the Mistwalker clawing savagely at its nape—the Cthulhu Beast swiped at its own back with its long tail. Seconds before it would have struck him, the Mistwalker flew up above the creature’s head to come hover in front of its face. Four tentacle-like, shadowy tendrils shot out of the Walker’s ethereal form and wrapped around the length of his prey’s praying mantis arms before the Beast could strike. The tendrils tightened, crushing the monster’s limbs. Simultaneously, the Mistwalker’s razor-sharp claws lacerated the Cthulhu’s face, chopping off its facial tentacles, which turned to ash as they fell. No blood gushed out of the terrible wound.

The Beast bellowed. As soon as it opened its maw, the Mistwalker leaned forward, and a stream of energy appeared to transfer from the creature’s mouth into him. The Cthulhu Beast, clearly in distress but not yet defeated, reared on its hind legs before brutally bringing down its bound arms towards the ground. Once more avoiding getting crushed, the Mistwalker released his prey and flew around it at dizzying speed, savagely whipping it with his tendrils. Long, dark gashes appeared on the Beast’s back wherever the shadowy tendrils made contact.

Using both its tail and broken mantis arms, the behemoth attempted to knock down its aggressor, but the Walker was much too fast for it. Worse still, each blow appeared to slow the Beast further. The Mistwalker resumed siphoning his prey’s lifeforce through the open gashes on its back, while inflicting more wounds with his tendrils. When the Cthulhu Beast all but ceased fighting back, the Walker flew back to its face and used his tendrils to open wide the creature’s maw. Hovering before it, he greedily sucked the very life out of the monster, whose massive body began to shrink and wither before our very eyes.

My heart all but stopped at this dreadful déjà vu. That fateful night in the Mist, eleven years ago, this was what Jared had intended for me. I could almost feel again the bruising hold of his big hand around my wrist, all but crushing my bones as he opened the shutters and threw me out of my own house and into the Mist. A different Beast had been roaming the street, immediately converging towards me the minute I stumbled down the five steps of the front porch’s stairs. I tried to run back inside, but Jared slapped me then dragged me a few meters down the path before shoving me towards the sidewalk. I fell so hard on my knees it was a miracle I hadn’t broken something.

That was when a wraith-like, dark shadow swooped down. I covered my head with my arms, thinking my final hour had come, but it continued past me to tackle Jared. I could still hear his horrified screams as the Walker pinned him down. I scrambled back to my feet, terrified at the thought I had to walk past them to get back inside the house. Yet, I didn’t hesitate.

Immobilizing Jared’s arms and legs with his shadowy tendrils, the wraith held my ex’s head by the hair while he drained the life out of him. My hair stood on end from the energy swirling around them as I rushed past their location. A choked sob of relief escaped me when the tendril I’d expected to wrap around my ankle never did. I jumped up the stairs in two steps and slammed the door shut behind me. I ignored the sickly-sweet scent of the white clouds of the Mist that had made it inside the house and were slithering on the floor. Wasting no time, I locked the front door and slapped my hand on the button activating its metal shutters.

As they lowered before the front door, increasingly blocking the nightmarish view outside, I stared in horror at other Mist Beasts gathering near my house, while staying at a safe distance from the Mistwalker. He was the last thing I saw, dropping the desiccated corpse that had once been Jared, while staring at me with glowing eyes.

Shaking away the dreadful memory, I refocused on the Mistwalker outside. In the seconds that followed, the energy flow between him and his prey ended. The husk that remained of the Cthulhu Beast collapsed like a sandcastle of ashes. The Mistwalker turned towards the window, his yellow eyes glowing with the intensity of the sun at its zenith. He glided gracefully to the window, his gaze locked with mine. He placed both his shadowy palms against the reinforced glass, his featureless face a hair’s breadth from it.

“Hello, Naima… Missed me?”

I gasped, and my hand flew to my throat at the sound of the otherworldly voice that resonated inside my mind. Although he didn’t have any visible mouth, I could have sworn a malicious smile had appeared on his face.

The long and lethal claws of his right hand started tapping on the surface of the glass. My brain froze, and cold shivers ran down my spine as I recognized the rhythmic pattern. My ethereal stalker had played it on my shutters every day of the Mist for years following that fateful day, attempting to lure me out to finish what my escape had cheated him out of.

My Nightmare had found me again.