The fog enveloped the small town of San Elías like an oppressive cloak, making visibility difficult and plunging the streets into an unsettling silence. It was a place where everyone knew each other, but on those foggy nights, even familiar faces seemed strange. The tension in the air was palpable, and legends about the fog began to resurface, stories that spoke of whispering voices lurking in the darkness.
Martín, a young reporter, returned to his hometown after years of absence. Upon arrival, he felt drawn to the mystery surrounding San Elías. The townspeople spoke in hushed tones of a voice that, on nights of thick fog, called to those who were alone. It was said that those who followed that voice never returned, but Martín paid no heed to the warnings; he was a journalist, and a story like that was too tempting.
That night, he decided to go out and explore. He walked through the deserted streets, the fog embracing him. His breath turned to vapor in the cold air, and the darkness seemed to close in around him. Each step he took echoed in his mind, as if the silence was warning him of something he could not see. In the distance, he heard a murmur, a soft melody that cut through the silence. His curiosity pushed him to follow the sound.
As he ventured deeper into the fog, the voice became clearer. It was a melody that spoke of love and loss, but what was most unsettling was that it seemed to call him by name. Martín it whispered, and each time he heard his name, he felt a chill run down his spine. The voice, though sweet, had a tone that felt strangely familiar.
His mind filled with distant memories, moments from childhood, laughter and hugs, but also dark secrets he had left behind. The voice guided him toward an old bridge that led to the hills, a place where he used to play with his sister, Clara, who had disappeared years ago. The fog thickened even more, making the world around him fade away.
When he reached the bridge, he stopped, his heart pounding. The voice called to him more intensely, as if pleading for his presence. Come, brother it resonated in his ears, and anguish filled his chest. Clara had been his confidante, his best friend, and the thought that she might be there, in the fog, disoriented him.
Desperate, he began to call her name. Clara, is that you? The fog stirred, and for a moment, he saw a blurry figure at the end of the bridge, a flash of brown hair that illuminated his memories. Its me, Martín The voice was an echo of his childhood, and the desire to find her took hold of him. Without thinking, he crossed the bridge, each step feeling the weight of the fog on his chest.
However, as he got closer, the figure began to fade. Anguish turned into desperation. Where are you? he shouted, but the fog swallowed everything, and there was only silence. The melody turned into a mocking whisper. Theres no turning back the voice echoed, and fear took hold of him.
Realizing he had fallen into a trap, Martín tried to turn back, but the path blurred. The fog became a prison, and the voice turned into a chorus of laughter that reverberated in his mind. Anguish and terror enveloped him, and with each attempt to escape, he felt more trapped.
In an unexpected twist, the voice transformed into a heart-wrenching scream. Martín it resonated once more, and in a moment of clarity, he understood that Clara had never been there. The voice was an echo of his guilt, a reminder of his inability to accept what had happened.
The fog began to dissolve, and Martín found himself back on the street, surrounded by the houses of the town. The voice had disappeared, but the weight of guilt and sadness remained. As he looked back, the bridge faded into the mist. There were no answers, only an emptiness in his chest and an echo of what once was.
As he walked away, the lights of the town shone with a warmth that seemed to mock his anguish. The fog, however, watched him, waiting for the moment he felt alone again, ready to whisper in his ear and remind him that, although he had returned home, there were things he could never leave behind. The story of his sister remained an unresolved mystery, and the voice in the fog would become his eternal companion.