The fog arrived an hour before the ship, rolling onto the shores and fillings the streets. The ship, far too large for the available docks, beached itself on the small patch of sand on the lakeshore.
It was well after dark, but the sound drew many of the townsfolk to the shoreline. They watched as the crew stepped over the sides, falling from the ship. Those that landed in shallow water waited patiently as those that fell upon the rocks were forced to take time to set broken legs which showed through translucent skin. Together, the entire crew began to walk through the town.
The townsfolk who had watched from the shore now hid in their hastily locked and barricaded homes with their families. Some heard knocking at their doors, tapping at their windows, footsteps on the roof. Those brave enough to approach their thresholds could hear what sounded like pleas, but what remained of the crew’s vocal cords was not enough form words.
By dawn the fog had receded and the ship had disappeared. The townsfolk stared at the footprints and depression left on the shore of the lake and wondered what would have happened, had they opened their doors.