It Comes With The Fog

Fog. Thick and endless devoured the city of San Francisco, so heavy that it covered the highest hills, the red-orange twin towers of the Golden Gate Bridge, and the tall and ugly reception tower on Mount Davidson. The spire of the Transamerica Pyramid, San Francisco’s tallest building just made it through the cloud and glinted in the afternoon sun, surrounded by a sea of white. On the streets, grey darkness enveloped the city, streetlights burned brightly, office towers gleamed with twinkling lights and the dulled headlights of cars slowly followed each other, like a rows of ants, along the steep streets. The sounds of the city were in a way, muted by the fog, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still loud, busy and bustling. Crowds still shopped at the Chinatown Markets, people every now and again stopping to watch the many old, dark clad, bald headed Chinese men bickering over mah-jongg. The Marina and Fishermen’s Warf were also still crowded, with tourists, joggers and many Chinese, Russian and native fishermen.
As darkness fell the city quietened, with the exception of The Castro and SOMA areas. Restaurants lit up and music emitted form the many nightclubs that had made SOMA their home.
Cecilia Jason tightened the belt of her black trench coat as she stepped off the sidewalk and quickly jogged over the crosswalk at Clay and Montgomery streets. The eleven chimes of a downtown clock tower mingled with the fast staccato rhythm of her high-heels. She walked alone, south along Montgomery towards the BART station seven blocks away; a feeling of unease quickly made it’s self-present to her.
She quickened her pace, the sound of her shoes echoing off the brick and glass facades of the downtown high-rises. Cecilia had never been out alone so late at night. Every shadow seemed to jump out at her and every noise startled her.
“Oh, stop it. You are being paranoid,” she said to herself.
This thought made her slow her walking pace and soon she was back to a fast but not so urgent walk, the loud echoes died away. The silence was unnerving and when she heard the footfalls of someone behind her it made her jump. She turned, the person had stopped and was shielded by the thick fog, she knew they stood just meters apart but all she saw were the swirls of fog dancing around her.
“Who’s there?” she asked timidly.Laughter. Cynical laughter was her answer.
She quickly faced about, her shoulder length brown hair fanning out around her in momentum.
The laughter came again but this time it was louder, practically at her ear. She ran. That’s all she could do.
This was the first time she had felt true fear and the realization that she might die if she dared slow down was what kept her going, the thought that she was running for her life. Cecilia bounded across California Street, her outline lit up by the headlight of an oncoming cable car. The toll of its bell, ringing like a church bell frightened her. It made her think of a cemetery in a horror movie with the bell chiming in the background. She risked a look behind her, in the fog she could just make out a dark outline ruining after her. She was tiering but she willed her legs to go faster, four blocks, three blocks, two blocks, one block. She could have screamed when she saw the entrance to the BART station. Her feet didn’t even touch the stairs as she flew down them and across the concourse. Then like when a rock meets a window her feeling of hope was shattered by the sound of the train’s horn, it was leaving, it was going to leave with out her. Her shoes skidded her across the tiles and threw her towards the steps descending to the semi darkness of the platform.
“Oh, shit, oh shit” she breathed.
When she hit the last step her hope was torn away from her. In slow motion the doors slid shut and the train began to pull out of the station, all she could do now was watch the rear of the train plunge into the dark tunnel. Then there was quiet.
She came out of her reprieve to the sound of her assailant’s shoes descending the concrete stairs.
"Hide” she thought.
Cecilia moved behind the stairs and waited for her stalker to step down onto the platform. She peaked a look around the base of the stairs, but could see only the back of her assailant moving around to other side of the stairs and out of view. She ran and when she reached the fourth step from the bottom she fell.
If only she had had the presence of mind to take off her shoes before she ran, if only the heel of her left shoe hadn’t broken lose from the sole and if only she hadn’t screamed when she fell. Her assailant grabbed her ankle and dragged her down, her face smashed into the concrete floor.
Her stalker was on her in an instant, straddling her and pinning her down with his knees. He smiled a cold and chilling smile at her as he pulled a knife out of his belt.
Cecilia cried in fear, she didn’t know why this was happening to her, she didn’t know what she had done to deserve this.
Before she could ask she felt a terrible pain in her stomach as he slid his knife into her, slid it into her like she was butter. Twelve times he stabbed at her, each time was as slow as the other. He wanted her to feel the pain, to feel her punishment, but most of all he wanted her to see his face. He gathered her up into his arms and threw her over the edge of platform and onto the electrified track below. 1

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