It so rare when I find a way to continue a story across multiple writing exercises, but rewarding I manage it.
Was it night or was it the thick black fog that descended out of nowhere across the town? Justin looked out the window into nothing, the myriad buildings of the town rendered invisible by the unearthly weather. “Justin,” his boss called. “Stop staring out the window and keep stocking those shelves. It’s just fog,” he added condescendingly. Justin knew that it wasn’t normal, but he had a burning curiosity to touch it. Ignoring his boss, he opened the front door and stuck his hand into the thick wet air, his hand immediately began to tingle.
The tingle didn’t stop at Justin’s hand as the fog began to travel up his arm and pull him in. The heat vented out of the store, but didn’t make a dent against the cold which now enveloped him. Justin’s teeth gnashed against it, but a strange wind whipped around his body and the cold seeped into his bones. The blackness was somehow thicker now that he was a part of it, but in front of him a figure began to take shape. “Help me,” a female voice pleaded. Justin could see the shape of a hand reach toward him.