HAUNTING
Chapter 1
The letter is one I’d been waiting for weeks to be delivered. The writer is a friend of mine and we have worked together for many years. Our line of work is unusual in its way, as it comes under the title of paranormal activity, ghost-hunting in other words. I contacted my friend and we agreed that we should meet on the 17th of December in Edinburgh in Scotland. Thomas lives in Salisbury, and I’m John, and I live in London. We decided to travel by train, and Thomas contacted another friend who lives in Edinburgh, to ask if he knew where we could rent digs for the Ghostly Hunt. Kenneth is the name of this associate and as he lives in Edinburgh he has nicely agreed to let us stay with him for this length of time.
Kenneth is married to Maria, while Thomas and I are single. Oh, we both were getting ready to get hitched, but we found out that we were in love with the same girl. Rather than break our friendship, we decided it would be better and more civilised to keep our friendship, and let the lady go. A good choice by us, as later we found out that she was playing us both. Lynda married some man called Brian; tales we’ve heard, we had a lucky escape.
We arrive at the train station to find it’s snowing heavily. The wind is bitter and I can’t wait to get to Kenneth’s place to get warm. A Taxi cab got us there eventually, however the cab swerved all over the road on the black ice. Thomas knocked the door and it opened immediately. “Come on in,” Kenneth said, I looked up, and behind him stood the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Maria had red auburn hair and green eyes, a real looker. As the door is opened the delicious smell of cooking food made us feel faint, as neither one of us had eaten anything, not even breakfast this morning, we thought we’d eat something out. However this didn’t happen, and there’d been no buffet carriage on the train.
Maria smiled a welcome, and asked us to sit down by the open fire while she put dinner on the table. We were frozen to the marrow, but thawed out eventually. Maria went back and forth carrying the dinner, and then came an answer to a prayer: “Dinner is served, people!” At least, I think that’s what she said, in her Scottish accent.
The more food we ate the more we wanted. It was the best meal I’d had for years. The wine was poured and we drank about three glasses. Maria cleared the dishes away and we asked if she needed a hand to wash up. She chuckled, “Oh no, I can manage very well, but thank you, chaps – ” I think that’s what she said. After sweet we returned to the fire and drank a few glasses of the finest malt whisky. I began to doze and kept waking myself up, as I felt bad-mannered. Thomas suddenly declared, “I think I’ll go to bed.” Kenneth told us to follow him saying, “I’ll show you to your rooms.” We each had our own room. I did wash my face, and then fell onto the bed. I don’t remember any more until the next morning at six o’clock, as Kenneth and Maria are early risers.
I slept on again until about ten o’clock, as I was still hungover. I managed to get a shower and shave, although I cut myself with the razor.
Again the aroma of cooking breakfast was staggering. I entered the kitchen, and then was shown to the dining room where the table was set ready for us. Thomas was already there and this astonished me, as he had had a few too many like me. We shared a very large breakfast and several cups of coffee. We sat near the fire and planned our days out to Grange Cottage; we set the plans of what instruments we would take to help us. We did ask Kenneth about stories he’d heard about this residence.
“Not sure I should say, as it might put you off going there,” he answered.
We did insist on hearing some of the stuff folk had witnessed.
“I believe it will be better if I start at the beginning.”
Kenneth then told us about the terrible happenings at the cottage and the hauntings.
“It all began with the Davis family in the eighteen hundreds, and tales began to circulate about Mr Davis’s mother. The local folk at that time said he kept his mother chained up in the cellar. One of the domestics that worked for them reported she had to go to the cellar for a fresh bottle of wine and discovered the old woman hidden behind a recess in the wall, chained to her bed. The way she looked made her drop the bottle in her hand and she had to choose another; she reported that she couldn’t leave that basement fast enough. The young domestic had to forfeit her pay to replace the bottle she had broken. She told folk the old woman in the cellar looked terrified, but that the old woman could not speak. In confidence the young domestic mentioned it to another person that worked for them. Lorna, the young domestic, was warned not to say a word about it to anyone. It’s also reported that the elder domestic told her that the elderly woman in the cellar was chained up because she was worshipping the devil in a black mass, and the family caught her, and then bad things began to happen in the cottage. Other family members began worshipping the black arts. The elder domestic went on to say to Lorna that that was the reason she’d been chained. “That’s no reason to chain her up for this kind of pathetic behaviour, is it?” the young domestic said. There was a harsh warning from the other, and she was told to leave it be.
Kenneth went on, “By the way, the cottage has been torn down and rebuilt to try and stop bad things going on in there.”
“We were not told about that,” Thomas said.
“Well, anyway it hasn’t stopped the hauntings, and actually the cottage caught fire for reasons unknown, the police thought it might have been arson, but could never prove it,” Kenneth answered.
After the horror story Kenneth told us we had misgivings about going to this place, as my skin crawled at what I had heard. I noticed Thomas look at me and he’d spotted, that I was beginning to wonder as well.
Thomas was silent for a while, and then he said, “Well it’s up to you, John, whether we go on this hunt or not.”
The real problem is that devil worship is involved in this, and we’d both had a very bad experience with the last one involving the black art.
We toyed with the idea until after lunch and both decided to go and take a look at the place for ourselves. We realised it would be dark when we reached there, but thought nothing might happen in daylight. Kenneth kindly loaned us his car and we set out. It was quite a treacherous journey and of course the snow did not help at all. We had a puncture and it took a long time to change the tyre because of the freezing atmosphere. I was thinking maybe we were getting these hold-ups to prevent us from proceeding to the cottage.
At last we arrived in a dishevelled state. As we approached the Cottage, the whole atmosphere felt menacing. Nothing was normal, the cottage and stark trees with the snow had a yellow look. Now my skin was prickling. Even the stars were of a yellow jaundiced colouring. We sat in silence, each knowing what the other was thinking and feeling.
“Okay,’ Thomas suddenly announced, “we are here, let’s go in and take a quick nosey around.”
I placed my hand on the door post and then onto the door, and I received a very nasty sensation, like an electric shock. “Oh God!” I shout. Thomas opens the door, the stink is overwhelming and we cover our noses, we are shocked by this as it’s so cold outside and we thought this would stop the rotting of flesh. Inside is littered with leaves twigs and some dead animals. These look as if they’ve been eaten by something. I have the feeling we are being watched. Hair on my neck is stood on end.
We flash our torch lights around and notice a mist coming up from the floor. This is when every nerve in our bodies freezes as there are shadows in this mist, dark and grisly, misshapen entities. The shadows made way for something else, an old woman stood in the centre of them. We gulp and head for the door, but shadows bar the way. I believe we both fainted when the most horrendous scream filled the room. We awoke next day and felt dizzy and sick. The shadows have gone and sunlight fills the room, however there is still the jaundice tint. We left there still craving answers. The snow is still yellow and the strange atmosphere is still hanging around; the awful feeling is still with us.
We went back to Kenneth’s place. “Oh my God” he said, “you both look awful, what have you witnessed there?”
We both said together, “Don’t ask and you won’t get any lies.”
We had breakfast, but the food smelled rancid, and did not taste the way it should. We left Kenneth’s place to return to our homes and promised keep in touch. Both of us agreed to seek help and forgiveness from a man of the cloth.
Both of us do things now that are not normal for us. I drowned the next door neighbour’s cat, strange indeed, as I love cats and I did love this one. I was reported to the RSPCA for doing this. Thomas is experiencing awful behaviour, and doing things not at all like him. We have both come to the conclusion that we are possessed by evil. Looking back at that night, and after the horrific scream, we both remember nothing more – we don’t have a clue what happened to us both.
