The Binder offers up… The Fog? Really?
Transcript will be available soon.
0.5 / 5
Rating (Mustachless Tom Atkinses)
Roxy - 4.5 / 5
Dean - 4 / 5
Dan - 4.5 / 5
Alison - 4.5 / 5
The Fog is a 1980 supernatural horror film directed by John fuckin' Carpenter. It is available to stream on Tribecca Short List and to rent/buy on Google Play, Youtube, and iTunes.
Twitter Short Story
The clock strikes midnight. It is April 21st. The "witching hour" begins, and you feel a chill run its way down your body. Its late, but you get the distinct feeling that you should not go to sleep now.
You stare out your bedroom window as the chimes of the clock strike in succession. Off in the distance, beyond the coastline, you see a fogbank rolling in, eerie and calm.
Every now and then, your eyes catch what seems to be a faint iridescent light at the center of the mist. At its center, barely perceptible, a faint ship-like shadow flickers around.
The sight fills you with such dread and fear that you force your gaze away from your window, and back onto your dimly lit phone screen. You need a distraction. Something to listen to.
Your fingers flick the virtual screen down a nearly endless list of options. No... No... Not that one... Wait! You stop. Yes, this one will be the perfect thing to take your mind off the unease filling your very soul to the brim.
You grab your headphones from the table next to you. As your eyes dart past the window, you notice that the fog has almost made landfall. It's moving with a purpose, every second bringing it closer to an undefined go-
Stop. Stop. You're never going to be able to sleep at this rate. It's just fog! There's no light, no ship, just fog. You fix your attention back to the phone screen. Your headphones are plugged in. You tap the screen.
Episode 8 of It Came From a Basement plays. This week, Roxy, Dan, Dean (with guest @AlisonxCloud) are watching... The Fog? That... that's just a coincidence, you think. It doesn't mean anything. The familiar sound of the the theme fills your ears and you instinctively relax.
Outside, the fog has made its way to land. Slowly, it crept its way up the beach, up the cliff below your house, and right up to your door. A figure moving within it, yet somehow also a part of it, silently approaches the entryway.
You don't notice this figure, or the sickle its dragging behind its back. You don't notice its barely perceptible shape. You don't notice the malice, hate, and revenge emanating from it, like waves of pure energy. You don't notice it opening your door.
The only thing you notice is the voices of your favorite podcast's hosts filling your ears. You shut your eyes and make yourself more comfortable in bed. The sound of It Came From a Basement commands your attention as you slowly drift away into sleep.
Written by Roxy. Originally posted on Twitter on May 4th, 2019.