# The San Jacinto Mist Author: Paynalton Canonical source: Language: en Original publication:
Stop! Don't go any further.

Have you not felt the warm breeze that spreads from the canyon on nights of San Jacinto, beyond the ocotes where the revolutionaries hung the owners of the hacienda who refused to pay, all the way to the wall of the abandoned church where a fire took the lives of five hundred faithful who refused to leave the mass, waiting for their fervent prayers to extinguish the flames?

Run! Run when the mist settles on the grass like a snow mantle that hides in its bosom the sprouts of evil that germinate and mature in a single night!

Today is the night of San Jacinto, one can already see the mist taking shape from the drops of dew that the wind has deposited on the earth. Keep silent and you will hear the hiss as the tiny pearls fade into a white cloud that grows larger and larger, settling on the earth, thinning out to spread as much as possible. Keep silent and you will hear the desperate cry of its victims running in an attempt to escape: mice, insects, snakes... the mist destroys everything that is alive, devours it, makes it its own, satisfies its thirst for souls.

But take notice, only in those spots where the San Jacinto flower grows does the mist remain at a distance, forming those strange yellow gaps, refuges for those who wish to escape the terror of its arrival.

A long time ago, when I was a child, a young man came and stayed in the canyon with his friends right on the night of San Jacinto. All of them, except him, disappeared. I remember that my father found him just among those trees and took him home, his look was one of terror and between his hands he held a glass jar in which he had captured a bit of fog. I remember that I could see the jar before my mother ordered me to step away from it. The fog moved inside the jar forming whirls, it concentrated in a corner and then hit the lid fiercely, the fog wanted to escape.


They came from the capital to take him away and nothing was ever heard of him for many years, although no one expected to see him again, he came with many of his friends, they say his girlfriend too, and he left alone with a jar full of that cursed fog, not even able to take the corpses.


When I grew up I went to the other side of the border to work. I stayed there for many years until I came back to marry your grandmother, when I returned everything was full of San Jacinto flowers. They told me that that boy came back two years after I left with a truck full of those flowers and planted them all by himself throughout the canyon. They say he stayed to live in the town for a while, until one day he disappeared.


During those years the San Jacinto fog was no longer seen, but now there are few flowers left and no one comes to plant new ones, I think no one cares about old stories or much less planting flowers, that's why the fog is coming back.


Yes, I know today is Saint Paul's Day, we call it San Jacinto fog because of the flowers, that's how they are named. We never know when the fog will appear, sometimes it appears for several nights in a row, sometimes it takes years, but when it does, no one should approach.


Look over there!, two people are approaching the fog, by their clothes they seem to be from the capital, they are a man and a woman. No!, stay here, you won't be able to reach them before the fog covers them, and it might also catch you.


There goes another one running, it's a child a little older than you, I think I've seen him in church. He's running toward them and shouting for them to stay away, but they don't listen.


That child has gotten too close and the fog has moved toward him. Look how it surrounds him. He already realized and is climbing that tree, but it will do him no good, no one escapes the fog. Look how the fog grows and climbs up the trunk. No matter how the child tries to climb through the branches, he cannot escape. Watch how the fog rises until it completely covers the tree. That's why I asked you not to go.


Now comes the couple, as they advance the fog opens up, letting them reach the center of the cloud. And look, the fog has descended from the tree, leaving no trace of the child, someone will have to tell his mother that he won't return.


The couple reached a group of flowers and stopped, if they stayed there all night they could survive, but they won't. He kneels down and cuts a flower to place it in her hair, they kiss and continue walking.


The fog is already closing the circle around them, they've noticed it but keep walking, they don't know what will happen to them.


Look how the fog is stirring around them, the fog has intelligence, knows what it's doing, and likes to play with its victims,


She stumbles and falls face forward into the white mist, the boy laughs, not realizing that she didn't stumble, but was pulled by the fog. He has stopped laughing, he's realized that she isn't getting up. Look how he pushes the cloud down with his hands, it seems her body has already disappeared. He shouts something while searching, surely he's shouting her name.


Learn this well, the fog is a demon that enjoys the suffering of people, watch, it has torn off the boy's arms. The fog could have killed him quickly, without pain, but it won't.


The boy runs with his bleeding arms, screaming desperately... he has stumbled and fallen, look how the fog is stirring, listen to his screams, it's killing him bit by bit, piece by piece, at this distance you can hear his screams.


The church bells ring, they've already informed the priest, learn that tune well, it means today is Saint Jacinto's Night and no one should approach the canyon.


The man's screams have stopped, you must go home now, when your parents hear the bells they will come looking for you. No, I cannot go with you, I could only come to prevent you from continuing walking toward the canyon, now I must return.


Give your mother a big kiss from me, but don't tell her you spoke to me, they'll get scared if they find out you spoke to a dead person.