Alternative Part 2 (I)
One of the endings I had imagined first, taking place instead of the Maria-scene
TW: death and suicide (in a way)
It had been bound to happen, you think, which isn't any consolation. With the people here not knowing, what medicine is, you could imagine yourself, that becoming sick in the middle of the Fog would be a death sentence.
And Sasha became sick. After weeks of searching through the icy cold Fog with being unable to stomach much of the provided food, in addition to the constant pressing of...something on your mind..., it had been bound to happen.
Still, when the fever and chills started, you had become panicked and tried everything in your power to help your best friend.
You tried to lower the fever, you tried to find any information on healing herbs, the closest to medicine you can find here, you tried to be there for your friend.
And now, a full week after the first fever spike, you look down on Sasha's far too still body. No breath rising in their chest, no color to their skin. They look peaceful, you numbly realize. More peaceful since the day you found each other in this Hell.
You spend the day just sitting on your bed next to theirs, staring at Sasha, willing them to come back to life. It's maybe a first sign of insanity, when by the end of the day, you are convinced, that your friend is just sleeping really, really deeply.
You had tried not to lose it, to find a way to return, to tell Sasha's family... To just return to your home.
But the villagers...they dared...to burn. Sasha.
Your one and only friend, the only ally you had and they burned them, while you were trying to find a way out of the Fog! It had been necessary, they said. They would have contaminated the village, they said.
No matter how much you cry and scream and wail, it doesn't change the fact, that the only friend you had had in this cruel world, is gone.
You feel so numb after that. They don't have graveyards, you can only return to the scorched place, where they burnt your Sasha to mourn them.
You still try to find a way out, but it becomes so...useless. The Fog plays with you like a feline with a rodent and you grow just tired of it, so eventually, you leave the house one more time.
Not bothering to take your things with you, you march into the Fog, until you find a big boulder and sit down on it.
"Do your worst.," you mutter and don't even flinch at the veils of fog suddenly closing in on you and the silent triumph you can feel in it...