Aftermath

The mist swirled.
She recoiled from the window in shock, then hurried back to try and catch another glimpse of the stranger. The old oak tree appeared as the fog thinned once more, but the man had gone, vanished into the mist like a ghost. She slumped down on the narrow bed and sighed deeply, despairing without knowing quite why.
"Who was he?" She whispered to herself and glanced back to the window in case he had returned. All she saw was fog, thickening rapidly and eddying sluggishly, blanketing the garden like some huge, insubstantial creature. She shivered. Suddenly she was afraid. The miasma beyond the window now seemed oppressive and evil. She edged back away from the glass, then stopped abruptly.
"It's just mist." She told herself aloud, her voice sounding weak in the dead air of the room.
"It can't hurt me." As if in answer the fog roiled suddenly as if mocking her, and she slid back another pace, coming to the edge of the bed and slipping off onto the floorboards. She hid there for long moments, hardly daring to breathe, and gradually the fear dulled until it had faded to a vague uneasiness. Slowly she pulled herself to her feet, brushing a smudge of dust from her dress with a pale hand. She looked towards the window. The mist was just mist. Still, she felt claustrophobic now in the room, and she itched to see what was beyond the room, beyond the mist and the garden. She went to the window, and looked at it closely for the first time. It was made of three panes of glass, set in a kind of bay from floor to ceiling; solid and unhinged the only way to open it would be to break the glass, and this she was loathe to do. Sighing gently she turned away and looked towards the doorway and the dark tunnel beyond. Hesitantly she went forward and rested her hand on the wall beside the opening. The darkness in front of her was complete, unbroken by any glimmer of light. A shiver passed down her spine and she almost turned away, but she was stubborn. With leaden steps she inched forward until she stood beyond the doorway, within the darkness itself. She reached forward and her fingers touched cold stone, dry and smooth under her palms. The air smelled ancient and a little musty. She turned to her right, and then her left, straining with her eyes for a sign of light, but the blackness seemed endless. The warm glow of the room was becoming more and more attractive every second, but the woman lingered in the corridor, tempted to stumble blindly on just to escape the dull monotony of the room, but unsure and afraid of what might happen if she did.
A few seconds passed and then a light breeze wafted down the passage, it was warm and smelled of mildew and decay. Go back a voice seemed to whisper in her mind. The terror she had felt earlier came back in a rush and she shrieked, darting back into the room, trying to shut out the voice in her head. She curled up on the bed with her arms wrapped around her eyes and ears. The voice faded, but from the corridor outside now came the steady hiss of breath as if some terrifying monster now stood guard over the doorway. The woman watched the black portal fearfully.
'What have I done?' She whimpered almost inaudibly.