Duncan always enjoyed the solitude of Nisqually, especially in late October. The crowds were gone, and the marshes were left to the chill of autumn. The air held that wet, earthy scent—the kind that spoke of rotting leaves and distant tides. The sun was sinking beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dull oranges and grays. Duncan had been out along the boardwalk path, hoping to catch one last glimpse of a heron gliding across the estuary. But dusk came fast, and so did the fog.

It started as a thin mist creeping across the basin, curling around the reeds and cattails. Before long, it thickened into something impenetrable. Duncan could barely see his feet on the path. He tried his phone’s flashlight, but the beam hit a white wall of fog and scattered uselessly. The education center—his car—they were out there somewhere. He just needed to keep walking, stay calm.

Then he saw her.

A flicker in the corner of his eye—a shadow shifting between the fog banks. Duncan paused, heart pounding. Was it a woman? Long dark hair, a white dress that seemed to glow in the mist. She stood there, staring at him, her face obscured by the fog.

“Hey! Are you okay?” he called out. His voice sounded muffled in the thick air.

No response. The figure didn’t move. Duncan’s skin prickled with unease. He took a step forward, squinting, but she vanished—as if she had never been there at all. He swallowed, trying to ignore the cold knot forming in his stomach. It was just a trick of the light, he told himself. The fog playing games. He turned and kept walking, his footsteps echoing against the wooden planks of the pathway.

But she came back.

This time, she was closer. Just a few feet ahead, her head tilted slightly as if she were watching him. Duncan stopped, his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes—dark and empty—seemed to pierce through the haze. He took a step back, and she moved too, gliding silently, her feet never touching the ground. Panic bubbled up in his chest. He turned sharply, trying to retrace his steps, but the fog twisted around him, disorienting him even more.

He walked faster, his pulse pounding in his ears. He could hear something now—the soft squelch of footsteps in the marsh, following him. Duncan’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he stumbled along the path. The world around him was reduced to gray fog and the steady echo of his fear. He glanced over his shoulder, and there she was again. Her face was partially visible now, her pale lips curled into a faint, sad smile.

He didn’t see the edge of the boardwalk. His foot slipped, and suddenly he was falling. The world tilted as he crashed into the boggy water below. Cold mud swallowed him up to his knees, thick and unyielding. He struggled, trying to pull himself free, but the muck held on, dragging him deeper. The chill seeped through his jeans, biting into his skin. Duncan could feel the tide creeping in, the water rising around his waist.

And then she was there, standing at the edge of the path. Her dark hair hung wet and limp over her shoulders. Her voice came, soft and lilting, almost like a lullaby.

“You’re lost,” she whispered. “Stay with me. I can keep you safe.”

Duncan’s teeth chattered, his vision blurring as the cold tightened its grip. Her words seemed to wrap around his mind, coaxing him, promising warmth and rest. He felt his body growing heavy, his eyelids drooping. The mire ghost stepped closer, her bare feet skimming the surface of the water, her hand outstretched toward him.

“Just say yes,” she murmured.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a spark of resistance flared. Duncan fumbled with his phone, his fingers numb and clumsy. He managed to turn on the flashlight. The beam cut through the fog, catching her face in its light. The ghost recoiled, her form flickering like a candle flame in the wind. She let out a hiss that echoed through the marsh before she dissolved into the mist.

Darkness closed in, and Duncan’s world went black.

When he opened his eyes, he was on his back. The fog was thinning above him, the stars just barely visible. Two older men were kneeling beside him, their hands hooked under his arms, pulling him free of the mud. Their voices were distant, echoing, as they asked if he was okay, if he needed help back to the center. Duncan shook his head, his throat too dry to speak. He let them help him to his feet, his legs trembling as he found his balance again.

The men offered to call the rangers, but Duncan refused. He just wanted to get out of there. He stumbled back to the education center, the warmth of his car’s heater a distant dream that kept him moving. He didn’t look back until he was behind the wheel, the engine rumbling beneath him. As he pulled away, his eyes drifted to the field near the entrance—and there she was, standing among the reeds, her dark eyes following him.

Duncan slammed his foot on the gas. The car lurched forward, the ghost vanishing in the rearview mirror as he sped away, the fog finally breaking apart in the glow of his headlights.

---

Hi gang. Thanks for reading the story. The young man asked that I change his name to protect his privacy. He doesn’t believe in the paranormal, but this experience may have changed his mind.

Also, this is the first mire ghost story reported to me in the US. Usually, you hear about these encounters in the UK and Ireland. Needless to say, I was excited by it. Have you encountered one of these foggy, boggy spirits before? Let me know in the comments.

Last Updated on November 17, 2024 by Jacob Rice