Stacktember: Red in the Fog

Stacktember prompt: A Distant Signal

Kalyn and his hunting party saw the light first. A sharp, crimson flash deep within the fog, appearing and disappearing at rhythmic intervals: As though it were breathing.

A dense fog clung to the valley, as it always did at the foot of the ancient cliffs below their plateau — creatures that could pull a person into the soil to the world beneath — were enough to keep even the bravest in the safety of the firelight. But today the air was different. Something hummed. A soft, insistent pulse throbbed through the fog. It was steady, like the heartbeat of a clay monstrosity.

"It’s a trap," whispered one of the younger men, clutching his spear tighter.

But Kalyn, the eldest of the hunters at twenty and nine rounds, narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the strange beacon. "No hunter from the River Clan makes a light like that. We investigate."

Against their instincts, the group followed their leader, spears raised, muscles tensed for an attack. The fog thickened as they descended, swallowing them whole, until only the eerie red light guided their way. The ground beneath them began to feel different. Smoother. Cold.

As Kalyn knelt to touch the ground, his fingers brushed against a hard, unnatural surface. Stone? No, smoother than stone. It pulsed in vibration with the same rhythm as the light. A ruby of fire. One hunter touched a single, heavy-knuckled finger to the gem.

"Look," one of his party whispered, pointing ahead.

A streak of light jutted up from the hard ground. It shimmered, thickened, and spread. A laceration in the fabric of the world itself hovered just beyond the red light — a tear, wide enough for a person to walk through. The edges shimmered, flickering with energy that crackled and popped like lightning frozen in time. Beyond it lay a landscape the hunting party was unfamiliar with. It looked similar to theirs — mountains and sky — but there were strange shapes, tall and angular, standing unnaturally straight in the distance. A hunter stifled an instinctive moan deep in her throat.

"It’s a hide pulled back from a doorway," Kalyn said softly. He reached out toward the red light, which was embedded in the ground, its flashing red glow hypnotic and unrelenting. “A hex.”

"We weren’t meant to see this."

“Kalyn, let’s leave!”

“Perhaps the River Clan has a sorcerer?”

But curiosity gnawed at their leader, at all of them. Stories of their ancestors spoke of beings who once crossed great distances between lands, before the Great Silence fell and the fog claimed their valley. But those were stories, old myths meant to warn them. Yet here was proof, real and tangible.

One of the young hunters, Nira, took a step toward the tear, her wide eyes reflecting the strange world on the other side. "Do you think...we could cross over?"

Kalyn hesitated. They had survived by obeying the rules of their world — respect the fog, stay clear of the valley’s shadows, heed the tales of the elders. But those rules were born of fear, not understanding.

"We should go back," one of the men urged. "We shouldn't—"

The red light blinked faster. Like it heard our thoughts and disagrees, Kalyn crouched, spear raised. A low bass hum, like a distant growl, echoed through the fog. Then, without warning, the tear began to widen. The air vibrated, sending a jolt of fear through them all. Something was coming through.

The hunters scattered, scrambling for cover behind jagged rocks. Kalyn watched from his hiding place, his heart pounding as a figure emerged through the rip — bipedal, shaped like them, but covered in strange, metallic skin that shimmered with every movement. Its eyes glowed with the same red light.

The creature looked around, scanning the foggy valley with sharp, precise movements. It was not one of them. It was something else. Something from the other world.

Kalyn’s breath caught in his throat. The stories were true. The fog, the forbidden shadows — Were they warnings about these beings, ones who had once crossed over freely? Now they returned?

The creature stepped forward, inspecting the flashing red light, cold eyes scanning the surroundings. And then, in a moment that sent a chill down Kalyn’s spine, it spoke.

The sound was garbled, foreign, but the tone was unmistakable: it was a command.

More figures began to emerge from the tear, each one more imposing than the last. They moved in tight formation, as if driven by a singular purpose. The red light intensified, casting long, sharp shadows across the valley floor.

Kalyn’s mind raced behind the oversized fronds. This was no discovery of wondrous magic, this was an invasion. The skin between worlds had weakened, and now, whatever they were, they had come to take back what had once been theirs.

Nira, still close to the tear, looked back at Kalyn, her face pale with fear. "What do we do?" She mouthed without sound.

Kalyn tightened his grip on his spear and he whispered to the men beside him. "We close it. We can't let them through."

But even as he spoke, the tear widened further, and the fog began to swirl, pulling the world apart at whatever tired seams had once protected them.

They had been called here by the light and opened the doorway. Now, they had to find a way to close it — before everything they knew was consumed by the shining warriors.