Guardians of the Fog - a mini Choose Your Own Adventure

Section 1

A dense fog obscures your vision as you step into the bleak morning air. Moisture clings to your skin, the miniscule droplets already covering your navy blue raincoat. Shifting your briefcase under your arm, you dig out a torch from your pocket and flick it on. It does little to illuminate your surroundings. Growing up in the fair English countryside, you've lived through a fog or two. But nothing compares to the murk that engulfs you now. The pea soup fog is almost alive in the way it creeps across the sky, slithering around your body like a constrictor squeezing the air from its victim's lungs.

You shake your head at the gloomy thoughts, and cautiously make your way across the pavement. You know the streets of London like the back of your hand, but the fog is so thick that you can barely see two inches in front of your face. It's disorienting. Your usual landmarks are obscured, making it impossible to tell how far you've walked, or what direction you're heading. The way you stare into the distance, unseeing, is disconcerting.

The usually bustling streets are eerily silent. Every now and then, you hear the hum of a motor as a car crawls down the road, or the whisper of the wind as it rustles the trees. Other than that, the only sound is the echo of your footsteps on the sidewalk.

Sighing, you make your way through the foreboding haze. You'd much rather be safe at home, sleeping like the rest of London. But you have to go to your tiresome office job, because faxing files and answering phone calls is so important. If you don't show up today, Lisa will fire you for sure. While everyone else waits for the fog to dissipate, you're going to work only to be bored all day.

A faraway voice intrudes on your thoughts. The call is so faint that at first you think the fog is getting to your head, making you hear things. Just a distant murmur that floats around in the back of your imagination. But then the voice gets louder and you can make out the desperate words: "Help...Help me...Someone help!"

You glance around uncertainly. Did someone else hear? Surely somebody else would get there first.

Your heart sinks as the cry continues. Deep down, you know there's no one there to help that poor soul. It has to be you.

You stop walking and wipe the condensation from your watch. You still have half an hour before you have to be at the office. Shifting your gaze, you try to identify what direction the voice is coming from. You hold your breath for a moment, listening carefully to the distant plea. The way the voice echoes through the mist is disorienting. The sound seems to be coming from everywhere, all at once. After a moment, you realize it's louder to the right.

You head in that direction and come to the road. You look both ways, though that precaution would do little good if a car was coming in this weather. You wouldn't see the headlights until it was too late. Cautiously, you step off of the curb and hurry across the road.

By the time you reach the other side, you can hear the voice more clearly. It sounds somewhat familiar, but you can't seem to place it. You turn right, striding toward the sound as quickly as you can with the fog hiding the way ahead of you.

"Please!" the voice cries, the desperateness sending shivers down your spine. "Hurry! Before it's too late!"

Suddenly, you spot a man silhouetted against the fog. A soft glow emanates from a point somewhere behind him in the haze.

Gaining confidence, you rush forward. "Here!" you shout, waving your torch in his direction. "I'm coming!"

Before long, you get close enough to make out details. He seems to be about your height, though slightly stooped as if an unseen weight is bearing down on his shoulders. When you're close enough to reach him, you shine your torch on his face to see who's there.

Your blood runs cold and you stop dead in your tracks. Your stomach twists and bile threatens to rise to your mouth as you stare at the familiar stranger. A navy blue raincoat is draped across his body, a dark green sweater peeking out between the buttons. His tousled brown hair frames his pale face, a crooked nose jutting out between curious, grey eyes. You stare dumbstruck at that face you have seen many times before―your own.

Then his face―your face―twists into a tormented expression. "No," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the sound of your heart beating in your ears. "No. Not you...Anyone but you!"

"Who...are you?" you whisper, finally overcoming your loss for words.

The man backs away, shaking his head in denial. "No, no, no," he murmurs. "Jarvis told me it wouldn't work. Warned me...should have listened...but foolish old me...stupid...thought I was different...thought it would work..."

"What's going on?" You ask, taking a step towards your duplicate.

"No!" he yells, and you stop dead in your tracks. "Don't come near me! Go home, Elmer. Forget about this."

With that, he turns and runs toward the muted light.

CHOICE 1: RUN AFTER THE MAN. GO TO SECTION 2.

CHOICE 2: TURN AROUND AND HEAD TO THE OFFICE. GO TO SECTION 3.