Mist

He stepped out into a cloudy october night.
It was allways cloudy, or misty or both in the little town at the edge of the swamp.
The people of the town carefully avoided the swamp, allthough nobody really knew why. It was just a creepy place that no one wanted to visit especially not during the night.
He was on the way home from the towns pup to his house on the other side of the town.
Lost in lought he walked the streets untill he saw infront of him a huge, black dog sitting on the street.
Strange...he had never seen such an animal around here before. As he came closer the dog set up and started growling at him. He wanted to sneak past the dog, but the animal was blocking the way. He wanted to step back and try another way around, but another dog was sitting in the adjecting alley. He turned around just to see that there was another dog coming from the opposing alley.
"What the fuck is going on here...?!"
He started to walk the way back and realized that they were following him, so he started to move faster, but the dogs were closing in and he began running.
Another dog turned up infront of him, so he changed for a sidestreet. As he came through a dog was coming from the left, so he turned right.
He wanted to go back into the pup and wait until the dogs would go away, but one of them was sitting right infront of the entrance so he just ran past.
He suddenly realized that they were going for the swamp and then he thought:"Fuck the swamp, they wont get me!"
He ran along the small street right into the swamp, the dogs stopped at the edge of the swamp, but they kept barking and growling so he ran on. He ran untill he couldn't hear them anymore and still kept walking for a while - just in case.
He pondered how he was going to get back and by the way looked back to where he was coming from.
"No way..."
The street was gone. He must have run a whole mile through the swamp. Good luck that he didn't sink in somewhere, but now he was standing in the middle of the swamp with no idea where to go. He looked around and saw a small motorboat lying there at the side of a small lake. He wondered whos boat that might be, no one he knew was ever this deep in the swamp.
That that didn't really matter now, he just wanted to get home.
He pushed the boat into the lake and jumped in. The boat was drifting farer into the mist as he tried to start the engine. On the third try it went on and started howling like the dogs he had just left behind him.
He muved the boat through the mist, away from the crippeled trees on the swampside.
Through the mist he saw a small island directly infront of him and wanted to move the boat around it. This was when the engine stopped. He tried to turne it back on. One-two-three. Nothing happend. One-two-three. Again nothing happend. The current in the lake pushed the boat onto the beach of the isle. A part of him just wanted to stay in the boat, but he felt as if something was calling him, so he stepped up to explore the island. It really was tiny, just a few crippled trees and a small cave, overgrown with moss and vines. He stepped down to take a look into the cave, but it wasn't much more than a mere hole in the ground. hardly enough to give a human shelter for the night. He just wanted to turn back when he saw that he was standing on bones - HUMAN bones. He gasped and wanted to run, but the vines grabbed him and dragged him deeper into the cave. He began to scream for help.
Eyes opend up in the darkness. The cave closed around him. And the scream stopped...

"Later I woke up on the swampstreet, I have no idea how I got there and I have no intention to find out. I just want to warn you. Don't go in that fucking swamp.", the man finished his story. The two visitors looked at each other, the man wisper to the wome:"He's been drinking one to many Shots."
They looked up again to ask the strange storyteller something, but he was gone.
The bartender came to their table, because the two looked up with a quizzical expression.
"Yo, what can I do for ya?", asked the bartender.
"Pardon me, but who was that man that just visited our table?", wanted the women to know.
"Which man?", he frowned.
"The man that was just at our table.", stated the man.
"I've seen no man.", replied the bartender.
"Oh c'mon, you even have a picture of him!", the man pointed at a photo at the wall.
"That? That was Peter Lovecraft, he disapeared two years ago.", said the barman.
"No way, he was just here a minuet ago!", exclaimed the women.
The bartender looked from one to the other with a strange expression in his face.
"You should leave now..."