Note: Originally posted October 2015, edited and reposted October 2016 :)
Fog descended on the Tyler Forest on the nineteenth day of the month like clockwork, no matter the weather. The mist seemingly emanated from the trees themselves, appearing everywhere at once, blurring the outlines of the ancient trunks until they were completely obscured by a wall of white. The fog ended abruptly at the tree line that demarcated the boundary of what had locally come to be known as Bad Wolf Woods.
There were stories about those woods. At first glance it seemed like a fairy tale with the single day of fog and the rumors of a pair of star-crossed lovers that had somehow caused the phenomenon's origin.
Calling it a fairy tale would be sugarcoating the truth.
The truth was there was no romantic fantasy with a cursed princess at the center of the forest waiting to be rescued by whoever could pierce the fog.
This was a horror story that haunted the woods and the town, one that grew more terrifying and outlandish with each telling, with every month and coming of the fog that passed.
There were tales told of people who were caught in the fog, who chose to try and enter it and were never heard from again. Those who did make it out were never the same.
Those who lived near the edges of the forest warned their children and every visitor of the dangers that lurked amongst the trees even on a normal day. When darkness fell, they would tell them to listen for the lonely howls of a single wolf. When it came, like it had almost every night for the last century, shivers went down the spines of visitors and caused those that had business taking them through the woods to walk quickly, jumping at every noise.
The wolf never howled on the nineteenth when the fog lay heavy and thick on the forest.
Even the townsfolk shuddered to think what horrors might lie hidden in the blanket of white that could drive the ancient wolf to silence.
Sometimes, instead of wolf howls, people swore they heard a woman singing.
There was a story from long ago told in hushed whispers of back when the common name of the area was the Tyler Forest and the fog had yet to plague the region. The tale told of a girl only nineteen whose name who had been lost to the fog and the years who had ventured into the woods to try and rescue her lover who was in mortal danger on the other side. The forest was not a safe place even then and it was said she met a grisly fate among the trees, that her blood had been spilled by the same malevolent hands that took her lover from her.
It was rumored that the earth was still stained red where her blood had fallen on that fateful day but no one dared to scour the forest to confirm it.
Her death triggered the fog, or so the story went. She was haunting the woods, endlessly and eternally seeking revenge on those who had kept her from her mission, who had ended her life. It was said she was at her most powerful when the forest wore her shroud of fog. There was no curse to be broken, no spell to be lifted to free her from her earthly existence. She simply wouldn't leave, as devoted in death to her doomed mission as she'd been devoted to her lover in life.
Those few souls who had made it out of the fog alive claimed to have seen her, to have spoken to her and been judged by her. They said she was waiting but no one knew what for. They claimed she was simply trying to keep anyone from entering her domain so they would not meet the same fate as her.
No one ever believed the tales of her benevolence, choosing instead to dwell on the persons never found and the terrible force of her misguided revenge.
She was the ghost story, the horror story that haunted the woods and only one thing was for certain - she was not a fairy tale.
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Rose Tyler walked through the fog, a bright spot of red fabric and blonde hair against the veil of white, a song on her lips. It was the same one she sang every night, the one that came out as howls on fogless nights.
She knew what the townspeople said about her and the woods that now bore her name twice over. She knew every story and rumor and whisper and how they'd evolved and mutated over the last century. Most of it wasn't true but some people had a few things right –- she was, in fact, waiting and her story was not a fairy tale, at least, not one they would recognize.
Rose's lips twisted upwards in a feral smile as she soundlessly neared the edge of the forest. It was an expression that humans and animals alike would recognize as predatory. She glanced at the fires lit by a few brave souls just beyond the boundary of the fog, trying to determine if any of them planned on entering her domain tonight.
Her smile softened at the sight of young lovers wrapped around each other who were using the townsfolk's fear of the fog to steal some time together. Rose wondered if they had to hide their love from their families, if that is what convinced them to venture so near to something they'd been conditioned to fear just for a few hours alone. It had been so long but Rose still remembered what that desire felt like, how the need to be together had burned through her veins like molten gold and how she'd risked everything to make it happen and to keep the one who made her feel that way.
It had ended in tragedy for her but it didn't always, and hopefully these two would be able to build their lives together.
She turned and started back towards the heart of the forest, letting the fog devour her as she walked. She dissipated with the mist as the sun rose on the twentieth to burn it away.
Only one more month to wait. One more month until she could finally put her plan into action.
Next month, he would come and the fog would descend for the last time.