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The story starts off like any other.

Morgan smiled as her lover softly pressed his lips into her own, and allowed a small sigh of content escape her. She was a happy young woman in her twenties, she'd lived with her husband for eight years. They had a small but warm home made of sand colored brick, two stories tall. The home was surrounded by a half wall with the same colored stone, to gain access one had to pass through the arch, and as she pulled away from his gentle embrace she would stare upon the world beyond the arch. Today started off as any other day, she got up, made breakfast normally eggs from the market complimented with fresh produce from the garden and a warm cup of coffee- black as night. Afterwards she'd follow her counterpart along the garden pathways before he left for work, and as he walked towards town she'd watch him from the archway, awaiting his return. During the day she kept herself busy by tending her garden, and the pathways that twisted and turned along the outside of the house. She'd clean the house, and prepare something for lunch. As the day moved along she may write, or do something to preoccupy herself until he came home, but before he came home every day she'd begin playing the piano. Something her mother taught her, and something he loved to come home to. Often times she'd be so lost in playing that when he'd slide up beside her on the bench she wouldn't notice until his lips pressed gently against her neck at the end. He'd always wait until she was finished with one song, and beginning the next before he did anything. Once she realized he was there she'd blush slightly still not accustomed to anyone enjoying her playing. This was the normal routine. Today it wasn't so, today instead of the normal crisp post winter chill the air was moist, and the day was cloudy. She got up as per any other day, and made breakfast just as any other day. However, this time when her counterpart sat down for breakfast he didn't smile like he normally did, he played with his food. Drank his coffee slowly, and passed her by heading straight for the archway. She hugged him before he left the archway, and kissed him softly a worried look on her face. He did nothing to console her, and walked away into the morning mist. 'It's nothing' she mused. He was bound to have a bad day right? Things can't always be perfect, so she disregarded it and made a promise to herself to talk to him about it tonight, but that she wouldn't worry about it until then. So she went about her day, the sun never came out, and the light outside the window began to dim. She took her place at the piano, she looked out the window and to the archway. The morning mist still hadn't cleared. She began to play, and today it was especially easy to get lost. Morgan didn't mind because she knew her husband would come for her soon, and until then why not enjoy the piano? So she played. She played every song she knew, every song her mother knew, and finally when she came to the final note of the song she played at her wedding she realized it was totally dark outside her window. Slightly bothered she got up, and looked outside, lighting a lantern on the porch. However the lantern wouldn't light far off the porch because the mist was still there, and thicker than she'd ever seen. She left the lantern on a nail in the wall, and went inside to cook supper. 'Maybe he's just running late' she thought. As she prepared the food, a beef stew with potatoes and carrots she stared out the window, growing more and more worried as time passed. That night she ate supper alone, and her bed was lonely. When the morning came she woke to an empty bed, and the bowl of stew she'd laid out for him was untouched. She bit her lip as she went outside. She ventured out into the town that day, to find her husband never made it to town. No one had seen him, or heard of where he may have gone. He never came home, she never broke her routine every night she'd play until her hands refused to move, hoping the sound would bring him home. Days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. Exactly one year after his disappearance she woke to the same feeling in her stomach. The morning was cloudy, and the air was moist. She made breakfast, and as she stared out the window she saw the mist closing in on her home and was bitterly reminded of what it took from her a year ago. In a fit of pain and sadness she threw the plate to the ground, shortly after cleaning the mess she decided to head outside. Breaking the routine, and she set her husband's plate of food on the threshold of the arch, along with his cup of black coffee. Hoping the food would somehow bring him home. She went inside and began to play their wedding song on the piano. As the final note faded, and the tears streamed down her face she looked through the same window and over to the arch which was obscured by mist, slowly the mist receded and where the food was instead was the plate, and cup. Stacked just like her husband used to leave it. She gasped and ran outside cautiously picking up the plate and cup. The plate was wiped clean, and the coffee was drank entirely. Startled she broke down in the archway and began to cry, and ran inside. After composing herself she set the dishes in the sink and began to play once more. 'Maybe I'm crazy' she thought. As she began to play she heard a knock on the door, and her husband's voice echoed through the house. "Let me in Morgan! Please!" She rushed to the door and looked through the glass, no one was there. She blinked and her hand touched the knob, but as she opened her eyes she was greeted by the grinning skull of death. "I miss you so much my love!" the cadaver of her husband was on her doorstep. She screamed, locked the door and all the windows in the house. She ran upstairs to her room, and hid in their room. She was staring out the window when a half rotten hand rapped on the window pane. "Don't you love me?" her husband's voice flowed throughout the house, but it was now tinged with the evil scent of death. She ran into her closet and locked the door, holding the key tight in her hand and cried herself to the point of passing out. Some time later she woke to the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Mist was seeping through the crack under the door. She could feel the presence of her deceased husband searching for her. She clutched the tiny candle, and lit it. Every spark she made with the flint she saw flashes of the skull, and by the time she had it lit she heard his footsteps outside her room. He knew where she was, and was calling out to her. Tears streaming down her face she hid deeper in the closet. Praying to god and the holy ghost that this abomination stayed away from her. Once her back touched the rear wall she heard the first pounding on the door. He'd found her, mist filled the room as the door began to break down. Between blows to the door the abomination would say "I only want to hold you one last time!" As he said this the third time he broke through the door and her screams echoed throughout the night. When the townsfolk went to investigate the next morning, there was nothing in the house other than her husband's skeleton that had been partially preserved for over a year in the closet, and Morgan hung from the ceiling in the bedroom in her nightgown, still clutching the candle for dear life.