Fogbound Souls Fogbound SoulS J u l i a a . g i r a r d “Come to Blackhall Manor and claim what is yours.” Julia A. Girard An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book Fogbound Souls Fogbound Souls Julia A. Girard Julia A. Girard An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Fogbound Souls T he invitation arrived in blood-red ink on bone-white parchment, addressed individ- ually to each of them, no return address, no stamp, just a single line: “Come to Blackhall Manor and claim what is yours.” There were six of them. Strangers. All drawn by curiosity, desperation, or a sense that maybe this was fate. A professor. A washed-up actress. A former priest. A war veteran. A teenage hacker. And a psy- chic who never wanted her gift. Julia A. Girard They arrived at dusk, under a sky the colour of bruised flesh. The manor loomed, its silhouette jag- ged and sprawling like a wound against the horizon. The fog was already there, thick and unnatural, mov- ing like a living thing, pressing against the iron gates. “This place looks like it wants to swallow us whole,” muttered Sara, the actress, flicking her cig- arette with a tremble in her wrist she tried to hide. “It’s just fog,” replied Tom, the soldier, his voice steady. But his eyes kept darting to the treeline, where shadows shifted without wind. “It’s not fog,” whispered Amelia, the psychic. “It’s watching us.” * * * * * * * Inside, the doors slammed shut behind them with a sound like stone on bone. The entrance hall was candlelit, grand and de- cayed, the chandelier above swaying on its own. A clock struck once, midnight, though their watches all read different times. A voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere. Low. Male. Like gravel in a coffin. Fogbound Souls “One night. One truth. Face it... or be consumed.” The lights went out. * * * * * * * They scattered. The professor, John, sought the library. He found it waiting—books he’d never seen but somehow re- membered. One lay open on a pedestal: his old the- sis, annotated in a hand not his own. The notes twist- ed into insults, accusations. “You plagiarized me.” The voice came from the dark behind the shelves. John spun. A figure stepped forward. His old men- tor. Dead five years. Face peeled, tongue slit, eyes leaking blood. “You stole my life’s work. Time to pay.” John screamed. * * * * * * * Sara ran upstairs. Mirrors lined the hallway, all warped. In each one, she saw herself, only older, hag- gard, desperate, drunk. Julia A. Girard “You said you’d quit after ‘Shadow & Silk’,” one reflection hissed. “But you kept crawling back for scraps. Now look.” “I’m better now!” Sara shrieked, punching the mirror. Her reflection didn’t shatter. It reached through. Grabbed her by the throat. * * * * * * * In the basement, Father Reyes knelt by the old fur- nace, clutching his crucifix. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” a voice intoned from the furnace. He recognized it. “You let me burn, Father. You heard me scream- ing in the church fire. You ran.” Flames erupted. The boy he couldn’t save stepped out, eyes glowing with holy fire. “Join me, Father.” * * * * * * * Fogbound Souls Tom locked himself in the armoury. He found weapons—knives, guns, grenades—but none of them eased the tension in his shoulders. Then the door opened behind him. “You killed me, Sarge.” A young man. Half his skull missing. A trembling dog tag around his neck. Tom recognized him. Murphy. His best recruit. The one he ordered to hold position during the ambush. “I froze,” Tom whispered. “You lied.” * * * * * * * Amelia sat in the nursery. Dolls watched her from the shelves. She didn’t try to run. She knew what was coming. Her mother appeared in the rocking chair, eyes va- cant, lips sewn shut. “Why did you let them take me?” Amelia wept. Julia A. Girard “I was seven! They said you were crazy... said they’d help!” The walls closed in, bleeding. * * * * * * * Upstairs, Zoe, the hacker, crouched in front of an old rotary phone plugged into nothing. It rang any- way. She picked it up. “I know what you did.” Her brother’s voice. The one she let OD while she coded. “You didn’t call 911.” The screen in front of her lit up: MURDERER. The walls began typing too. MURDERER. MURDERER. * * * * * * * The fog began to creep in through cracks, under doors, from the very walls. It wasn’t mist. It was memory, regret, fear made flesh. Fogbound Souls It swallowed John first, screaming in Latin. Then Sara, gasping for air through her reflection’s mouth. Reyes burned. He smiled as the fire took him. Tom died clawing at his own chest, trying to dig the guilt out. Amelia didn’t scream, she simply lay down be- side her mother and let the nursery fade. Zoe was the last. She reached the main hall, breath ragged, dragging the rotary phone behind her by its cord like a leash. The fog circled her. Whispered her sins in the voice of her brother, her father, the friend she never visited in hospice. She dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. The fog paused. “Too late,” it hissed, and surged forward. Darkness. * * * * * * * When the sun rose, Blackhall Manor stood si- Julia A. Girard lent and clean. The fog was gone. No trace of the six guests remained. Only the invitation remained on the doorstep. It now read: “You will not be missed.” And under it, in newer ink: “Next night begins soon.” END Fogbound Souls Fogbound Souls Julia A. Girard Ovi eBook Publishing 2025 Ovi eBook Publishing Design: Thanos Ovi eBooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C All the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Julia A. Girard Fogbound SoulS J u l i a a . g i r a r d “Come to Blackhall Manor and claim what is yours.” Julia A. Girard is a writer who’d rather be caught dead than serious. Her stories and books are a delightful blend of witty observa- tions, quirky characters, and laugh-out-scary moments that will have you hooked from the first page.