The Phantasy Hunter: LKS by Edwin Escolero
Its a breezy autumn dusk in a park as the rustle of tree branches swaying back and forth breaks the silence of the 5 a.m. shade. The lake reflects the cloudy sky and the dark silhouettes of the surrounding trees. In search of clues for a subject, I conduct an analysis of a bench that is imbued with a glow from some kind of powder like residue. Carefully extracting a wooden chip from the bench I place the sample in a labeled bag and take notes on the material.
As I clutch a voice recorder in my hand, I continue my survey of the area to validate the accuracy of the ledes that brought me here. I have come here to investigate reports of a “ghostly mist” in the lakeside.
According to eyewitness accounts, a mysterious fog has been blanketing the area during certain hours of the day. Some have reported being lost within the mist for hours when in reality only minutes have passed in real-time. There’s one case of a jogger reporting a vertigo sensation when he was within the soupy shroud, but upon return the head pain vanished.
Since entering the park I have yet to experience the reported anomaly first-hand, but I remain vigilant. As I continue to assess the wooden bench a sudden gust whistles through the lakeside. I turn my head up to look at the sky, but am unable see the clouds nor the stars. I look back down where the bench stood only to see nothing, not even my own shadow. I look and look, but cannot find the lake nor any traces of where I was moments ago. Closing my eyes I breath in and exhale from my nose while I meditate on my predicament.
Deep within the phenomena, I coach myself as I prepare to delve into the mysteries of the fog and search for answers to the improbable. This is: The Phantasy Hunter, LKS signing out.