The Ruins

“'It stands, a cankerous blot on the horizon; a syphilitic.and... phallic silhouette waiting for us to enter it’s rotting ruins… and like the condemned awaiting the journey to limbo I know I’m damned…'

"Don’t you think you’re laying it on a bit too thick, Dominic?” Serena harangued.

“Fuck off, Serena - it’s my last chance to make an impression.” Dominic snapped back. He always acted superior; yet he was squat and balding with square glasses that made his already rotund and flustered face more porcine.

“Oh, you’ve made an impression alright… as a complete and total fraud. You’ve ruined whatever reputation we had as serious paranormal researchers. So you're the one that can fuck off, Dominic.”

“Guys, you do know this is still being filmed?” Ian interjected, ever the diplomat, shifting his weight again; the ladder he was trying to carry more uncomfortable with every step.

“Don’t stop… Don’t stop! This is great, if nothing else it’ll help boost the ratings on YouTube!” , Chris, urged them to continue, tightening the focus on Serena who just nodded, trying to push back the nagging headache that had been getting worse the closer they walked towards Racton Ruins.

“Look, I’m getting a really bad feeling about this place.” she said, hoping that, for once, someone would listen to her. “I think we should just call it a day. Treat it as the disaster we know it to be and walk away.”

“You can walk away if you want, and good riddance!” Dominic sneered. “Then the show will be mine.. And I’m not sure you could live with that.” Dammit, he was right. Serena sighed and motioned to continue towards the tortured ruin.

Ghostings wasn’t much, but it used to be a fun Youtube channel and seemed to have a certain degree of credibility, travelling around Sussex looking at haunted places. Dominic's bio stated that he was a genuine psychic and Serena believed him. It was Ian who realised that Dominic was using stooges and wikipedia articles to get all his information and he set Dominic up by amending the page he knew Dominic looked at. 

No one confronted him on air, but afterwards all laid into him. Serena had to be physically restrained by Chris. Dominic didn’t even try to deny it merely shrugged his piggy shoulders and smirked. He wanted one more show -it was the springboard to something else he had his eyes on -he was going to leave anyway but needed to end on a high note.

Serena would have decked him there but Dominic pulled his trump card: either he was allowed to do this last show or he exposed himself as a fraud thereby destroying whatever credibility they had. Serena couldn't let that happen so she begrudgingly acquiesced. Dominic was now determined to make this as uncomfortable as possible and deliberately chose Racton Ruins because of its notoriety. “Are we going to start this or not?” Dominic said snootily. There was going to be another murder here before too long, Serena thought. Chis made the 3-2-1 gesture and Dominic started his nasal delivery as everyone walked up the pot-holed, muddy track towards the folly.

“Known more for its arcane significance and profane historical activities than its architectural prowess, Racton Ruins has stood here for over 200 years and who knows how many more it might stand? In a departure from our normal mediumistic nocturnal activities; for this, our last foray into Ghostings history, we are going to spend the night in the ruins of the notorious…”

Just then the night sky was gutted by the eerie sight of blue flashing lights from an approaching police car. Serena nodded to

Ian, who quickly moved the step-ladder into the ditch whilst the rest walked down to greet them.

“What.. the fuck..do they want?” Dominic swore; he had been in mid-swing and was arrogant enough to believe that no one should interrupt him, especially when he was monologuing.

"Don't say a fucking word to them, Dominic." Ian hissed. "I don't want you mouthing off to them; I'm not sure whether we're even allowed to be here..."

"Brilliant -I wish you'd told me that before!" Chris replied, lowering his camera. "I don't want to get in trouble with the law."

"Yeah, you're still getting over the last set of charges, aren't you?" Dominic mocked.

"Fuck off." Chris snapped back. Chris was usually laid back , she didn't let anything get to her.. but no one liked Dominic. Two police officers got out of the patrol car and seemed faintly surprised to have a small camera crew facing them.

"Is that thing off?" The driving officer asked. Serena nodded. "So what brings you lot out on a chilly night? Not the most glamorous of places to set a student film."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Officer." Serena replied and smiled. ""My name's Serena; this is Chris, Ian and Dominic. We're filming our last ever episode of Ghostings -it's a paranormal research thing... y'know.."

"Kinda like Ghost Watch." The driver nodded and smiled. Dominic was about to say something but Ian trod on his foot hard .

"No, it's alright Pete -I've actually heard of them." The other officer replied. "My wife loves all that kind of stuff... They're legit."

"I don't suppose I have to ask what you're doing at Racton then... you're braver than me!" Officer Pete said.

"Is it ok for us to be here, Officer?" Ian asked.

"I don't see why not..." Officer Pete replied. "I personally wouldn't as it's a well-known place for druggies..."

"We've got enough time to just check the place over with them, haven't we Pete?"

"You'll do anything to appear on tele, won't you Steve?" Pete quipped as he turned the flashing lights off before locking the car doors behind him. "I don't see any reason why not. It's better to be safe than sorry -they can be right little thugs...."

Everyone walked back up to the ruins and Serena found herself talking to Officer Pete whilst Ian and Chris did their best to keep Dominic as far as away from the officers as they could. Pete gave some fascinating information about the bizarre happenings he'd either been witness to or heard of: odd sounds and strange bangings from the vicinity. The strangest one was the ghostly tractor, ploughing the fields at dead of night."

The one that had me personally spooked was one misty night and I was on my own, still a rookie and I'd landed this and Kingley Vale to patrol. I'd seen some activity up ahead so went to investigate. I couldn't see for nothing but heard lots of rustling.... It was then that I heard a very loud cough and I've never jumped so high in my life."

"What was it?" Serena asked.

"It was a sheep!" Steve interrupted, already laughing. He must've heard that tale a hundred times and it still had the capacity to make him laugh.

"Yup.. it was a bloody sheep." Pete replied.

"I didn't even know sheep could cough." Serena laughed.

"Nor did I... but when I looked into the next field that's exactly what I saw... and one even looked at me with a guilty expression on his face." They laughed even harder as they made it to the ruin itself. Nothing had prepared Serena for just how dark and ominous it really was. Dominic had actually described it best; a cankerous sore on the horizon, but up close it was so overwhelming, as if it was towering over you, ready to fall at a moments notice. The central turret stood easily four stories high with two smaller appendages... like concrete testicles to complete his earlier observation. Dominic could be so accurate and quick to assess things that it made his betrayal even more hurtful.

The inside of the building was hollow. It was incredibly dangerous to even try to get up to the upper floors, but for some reason that was exactly where Dominic wanted to venture. Serena knew there was no way the police officers were going to let them even try, so it was deliberately kept from them.

The group walked around the ruins, each one carrying the requisite torches and a spare, just in case. Everyone had watched their share of horror films and had no desire to be caught in this particular location without a light! As Serena followed Officer Pete noticed him constantly brushing at the back of his neck for some reason.

"Are you blowing on my neck at all?" He asked.

"And risk being arrested for indecency?" She quipped.

"No.. silly question. It just felt as if there was someone right there.... I suppose it could have been cobwebs." Serena smiled but also felt the hairs on her arms stand up. She was very aware of situation bias and wish fulfillment in those kind of situations.

"Where did you park your car, anyway?" He asked.

"Just down the road, near the church." Ian replied.

"That's alright. There's less chance of it being nicked or vandalized there. Had you parked it nearer here than anything could've happened!" Serena blanched; she hadn't thought of that! The last thing any of them wanted was to be stranded there..

"Well... it all seems ok." Said Officer Pete. "I'm not sure I'd want to do this but I can't actually stop you. Look.. I'll pop round intermittently to see if you're ok; or at least keep an eye out for your car. Here's my mobile number -I don't normally give this out, but I have a bad feeling about this. Please ring me when you leave, just for my own peace of mind... I reckon I can trust you not to keep ringing me for anything else..." He handed Serena his business card The officers nodded and wished everyone well before walking back to their patrol car.

"Oh.. be careful where you walk and what you pick up." Officer Steve said before he got too far away. "This place is a druggies paradise, there'll be broken bottles and discarded needles... and who knows what else you're going to find."

They got into the patrol car and reversed back the way they'd come, illuminating the ruins one last time with their headlamps; this time making it look like an unholy maw ready to swallow everyone up.

Using the torches to create a safe path into one of the ante-rooms, Dominic, Chris and Serena set up a temporary base and recorded the first bit of feed whilst Ian went to fetch the ladder.

"The origins of the this tower are shrouded in mystery," Dominic said when given the cue from Chris. No one wanted to move too much in this space as it was far more perilous than they had at first thought.

Once into the ante-room and through the main chamber there was a nasty surprise: a huge, gaping hole where there should have been a floor. It must have been a cellar of some kind as there was a seven foot drop; the floor littered with sweet wrappings of all things, but there were things glistening and glinting. Using the telephoto lens they realised that the Officer Steve had been correct -not only were there lots of broken and damaged syringes but also rusty razor-blades, some of them actually wrapped in the sweet wrappers. It was fortuitous everyone was taking it slow, had they rushed and fallen....

"And although Lord Hallifax built this as a banqueting hall and statement piece back in the late 1700's it's been the sight of much worse activities, including a brief stint as a brothel in the mid 1800's." Dominic stated. The crash came out of nowhere and made them all jump.

"Fuck! Where the fuck are you guys, anyway?" Ian snapped loudly. He dragged the ladder with him, making more noise.

"Why don't you just let everyone know we're here, eh?" Dominic hissed. "We're supposed to be doing this on the QT. The last thing we need is a group of drugged up psychopaths stumbling on us here!"

"Yeah -about that... As I walked up here with the ladder (and cheers, by the way, for someone giving us a hand!) I saw a group of people standing at the roadside." Ian said nervously. "I've no idea who they were and didn't really want to stop and find out."

"They're probably no one in particular." Dominic replied, albeit flustered. He checked at his watch uncomfortably, which made Serena nervous. Why was he getting fidgety? Serena suddenly realised just how vulnerable and stupid they all were. She looked around for something she could use as a weapon and remembered a part of a tree branch that must have fallen in a recent storm; it would make a decent club.

"Somewhere you'd rather be?" Dominic asked sarcastically as she went to find it.

"Trying to be sensible; just do what you do best and ignore me." Serena motioned for Chris to start the camera again and Dominic continued his monologue whilst Ian set up the ladder. It was incredibly tricky to maneuver the ladder into the right place. They wanted access to the upper floor, Dominic said that's where he'd get the best 'readings', not to mention the best views of the Weald... No one knew what he was on about but thought it was worth a shot. There was a lot of graffiti sprayed around though no one had paid much attention to it -it was going to be part of the investigation once we'd set up camp on the first floor.

Serena volunteered to climb up the ladder first with Chris holding it. Every step was fraught with danger and carrying the club made it harder -nothing looked structurally sound. There were also stories about bricks being hurled around by ghostly forces. No one was looking forward to that sort of thing happening though it did present an alibi if someone got fed up with Dominic.

It took Serena quite a few minutes to get up to the first floor and a lot of noise and grunting, much to Dominics chagrin. Ian then climbed up, slowly and looked nervous with every rung. Serena had never been so scared in her life. Chris stayed below with the camera so she could use 'dramatic' angles and uplighting to make it all more dramatic. Dominic seemed reticent to start the climb and kept looking to the road for some reason.

Serena was too busy checking out her immediate environment to register this. This was the infamous first floor which used to be the site of a brothel at one stage, but it was less like a a pleasure palace and more like a death trap; a rim three foot thick that ran round most of the interior of the central structure.It disappeared to nothing when it met the two silos and there was barely enough room for the four of them. Serena glanced down and shone the torch on the black pit below. She saw it glisten back; it wasn't just sweet-papers and razor blades but a fair amount of broken glass. A pit from hell surely; they had to be so careful because if anyone fell in there they wouldn't be getting back up again.

Chris finally urged Dominic up the ladder and he was almost to the top when Ian hissed; "There's four  people coming up the bloody path towards us, and from they sound drunk and lairy."

"For all we know they could be the druggies that the police told us about.. fuck." Serena whispered. She looked down at Chris and said, "You'd best hide. You've got the camera. We'll never get down in time and if anything bad happens you can sneak off to get the cops back."

Chris nodded and quietly snuck into the hedgerow behind the folly. She was careful to move in a way to keep everything in her eye-line.

The group walked up closer and actually stood at the base of the folly. Whatever feelings Serena had that this was a coincidence were quickly dashed as one of them shone a torch directly at them.

"There they are.. just like he said." One of them said; a young bloke, but it was impossible to see what they all looked like. Dominic, who had still yet to make it to the top, clearly stated in a dramatic fashion:

"It's ok. I'll handle this." and started down the ladder, much to Ian's bemusement and Serena;s total befuddlement. Form the derisory laughs it was possible to discern that there were three blokes and a woman beneath them.

"Where are you going, fatso?" chided the woman. The other bloke stood on the base of the ladder and shook it. Dominic blanched and froze.

"C'mon; that's not nice... That's not what we decided." He remonstrated. Serena and Ian immediately exchanged puzzled looks. This sounded suspicious, had Dominic set them up again?

"No idea what you're on about, Tubs." Snapped the first bloke. "You're on our property and you're all going to pay."

"I can't pay you.. I've got no money!" Dominic pleaded, suddenly realising just how wrong this had become.

"Then you're gonna get it ... " Said the second man and nodded to the one on the base of the ladder.

"FOUR!" Shouted the lad.

"You mean timber!" Snapped the woman who then giggled in delight as the guy shook the ladder harder. It was obvious that she was getting bored; crippled by a tiny attention span, she stood the other side of the ladder and gave it an almighty push. Dominic never had a chance to remonstrate; his infamous poison tongue useless; his eyes just widened in horror and slammed to the ground with a sickening thud,. Serena saw where he landed and tried not to think of the rag doll body now crushed by the ladder.

"Bastards!" She shouted and managed to pick up a loose chunk of rock at her feet, part of the walls no doubt. She threw it at the lad holding the ladder as hard as she could, and it hit him squarely on the shoulder making him cry out.

"You're for it now, bitch. You better learn to fly." The ladder was propped up against the wall again and the youth climbed it, furious at the indignation of being attacked. He pulled out a knife from his pocket when he was sure that Serena could see the full extent of what was going to happen next,. He made it to the top and had just raised his head up when Serena swung the tree branch she had been clutching so hard. The blow was lucky; it caught him directly underneath his chin; crushing his larynx. He flew off the ladder and ended up sprawled in the pit of glass and razors, the knife falling from his hands onto the rim in front of her. The two youths below screamed out insults and scrabbled around them to find things to throw. Unfortunately there was plenty of ammunition around: rocks and broken glass were flung at Ian and Serena.

"Flatten yourself!" Serena hissed to Ian and they become almost impossible to hit. The respite gave her a chance to think things through; everything had just been a rollercoaster since the police had left. This was supposed to be fun; she never dreamt that things could have escalated this far! Dominic dead and broken, lying next to the boy she had killed; but she couldn't afford to think about either of them,  Just then, Serena's pocket vibrated... it was her phone! 

Someone was trying to contact her. She assumed there was no reception, but being higher up on the first floor obviously made a difference. She carefully got it out of her pocket and saw that it was a Whatsapp message from Chris. Of course, she was still out in the sticks; the two yobs didn't know about her. The message was brief: "Get your belts off, I've got an idea!"

Thirty seconds later there was a lot of noise coming from the bushes on the outskirts of the folly. Dominic's bombastic voice reverberated around and Ian looked at Serena aghast. Serena shook her head and whispered that Ian should ready himself. The bloke and bitch went to investigate the noise leaving the other man to 'stand guard'. Chris snuck behind the remaining youth and smashed him over the head with a rock. 

Serena and Ian took off their belts and threw them to Chris who was staring at the boy she had just smashed, not able to comprehend the true horror. It was Ian who brought her back to reality. "They're coming back!" Chris snapped out of her trance and tied the belts together with her own. She fashioned a loop around the bottom of the step ladder and then trailed it to a hiding place round the inside edge of the folley and made sure she was safely out of sight. 

"It was the fucking camera! Someone else is out there somewhere." The remaining youth shouted to his now dead companion. 

"Yeah; and you're surrounded!" Ian shouted back. "Your mate's legged it... you're all alone now!"

"Yeah; just fuck off before it's too late!" Serena joined in. This really pissed off the guy. He couldn't believe the way the evening had progressed and started up the ladder. Seeing her opportunity Chris yanked on the belts forcing the ladder to fall on top of the man. Chris couldn't believe her luck, her plan had worked! She was so elated that she ran to try and secure the ladder again to get Ian and Serena down. She never saw the girl sneak around behind her of feel the blade as it entered her throat; just the sickly tug as it severed her windpipe and artery.

Ian poured pointless scorn at her, all the time Chris was still clinging desperately to life. Serena could hear her gasp for breath but it was a wet, desperate sound mingling with her sobs and tears.  Serena screamed in rage and shock, calling the girl every name she could think of which only angered the girl more. She looked around for something to throw. Behind her was the drop into the glass-filled cellar. To her left, the broken arch. To her right, only three feet of ledge before the wall ended. This time she picked up two rocks; throwing both one after the other in rapid succession. Ian managed to duck the first but didn't see the second and Serena could only watch the momentary shock as it hit him on the temple hard, making him step back. He never stood a chance and couldn't even scream before the sickening thud.  All she could do was look beneath her, but all that responded was blackness; all consuming. All it would have taken was one or two steps and her pain would be over now; there was no way she was in a fit state to stave off this mad girl. But that meant her friends would go unavenged; no one would know what really happened. 

It seemed to take ages for the girl to prop the ladder against the floor adjacent to the one Serena was standing on. The girl was being careful.. . but it afford Serena the first chance to really see her and it shook her to the core. Serena expected ripped trousers; scraggly hair, unkempt but she was now faced with a thin girl, in any other situation meek, and bespectacled. She was dressed in smart, stylish clothes and was confident in her own body. The girls started her climb up but before she reached the top she threw something at Serena's legs, making her lose her balance. For a split second Serena thought it was all over; to fall at this stage would have been ridiculous and her friends would have died in vain. With an intense effort she managed to twist herself and fell hard on to her knees. She stopped herself from toppling over but the pain was intense. Serena then realised that it was important to lull the girl into a false sense of security; there was a manic intensity in her eyes. The girl was close to jumping the gap now and Serena could see the bloodied knife in her hands. Serena just watched in desperation as the girl made the jump effortlessly. There was so little room for them to manoeuvre, and when girl just ran at her, she slashed the knife in wild arcs; Serena barely managing to avoid them. 

But the searing pain came seconds later; the girl had ripped a gash into Serena's side and was now trying to push her over. There was no time for Serena to think, just react. For the first time in her life Serena was pleased for the dancing she'd done as a child; she still remembered some of the footwork and managed to pivot out the way of the second thrust. At the same time she twisted her body to avoid the knife, but was still too slow to miss it all. It plunged into the top of her arm but Serena used that to her advantage and thrust her own, into the girls stomach and twisted it. She didn't stop there; she just stabbed; stabbed hard and stabbed fast. Serena never noticed the girl fall of the ledge.. she was too busy stabbing the air where the girl used to be. Eventually the reality of what had happened dawned on her and she knew it was over... Safe.. but trapped. The ladder, for all the good it did, might as well have been on the moon. Too badly injured to try and make the jump across and too high up to try and drop down. She had become the latest witness to the Racton sacrifices.

The Unforgotten

1)

Yvonne was more manic than usual; her normally fiery red hair blanched back to its usual bland blonde for this auspicious occasion, and she was dressed almost in the same clothes as she wore that first broadcast. Her thick, black polo-neck sweater both hid the bruises round her throat as much as protected her from the cold ire of the weather and the many skeptics of the show: Ghost Haunters. 

She always liked the play on words, but Owen had always seen it as cheapening the brand –whatever that meant. But it was her money that had been used to kickstart the programme so she had the last word… back then, anyway. She also wore black leggings and a midi-skirt. She still wasn’t comfortable showing her legs off so much but Owen said that it appealed to a certain demographic -of which he was no longer part of. This was going to be the make or break; a last ditch attempt to make this programme, and their marriage work (although he wasn’t aware of that part of the arrangement). 

Once upon a time she actually believed in what she was doing; she actually thought that they would be able to uncover  proof of the veracity of life after death. Now she was reduced to the comic relief; the scream queen of the show… and now she had even been replaced in that role by Helen! 

Yvonne even remembered the exact moment when her dreams were shattered by Owen -it was during the second season just before Desmond had become the ‘medium’. In front of the camera’s Owen always appeared so supportive and upbeat; challenging the ghosts and apparitions to do their worst which would always freak Yvonne out; so much so that she confronted him at the end of one particularly traumatising show. She asked him why he taunted them so much, to which he simply laughed in her face, deriding the fact that she still believed in that kind of crap. Time had not been any kinder in the succeeding years and Yvonne was now wondering whether any of it had been real.

2)

Owen, on the other hand, was aware that this 10th Anniversary edition of Ghost Haunters (dear god, what a diabolical name!) was the end of an era. It was no coincidence that he’d brought Helen along for this ‘adventure’. She’d given him an ultimatum that she wanted him to end the flogged marriage. Owen was surprised that the marriage had lasted 9 years.

He first met Yvonne on the set of her previous television programme -a mix of children’s television, the board game Guess Who and the quiz show The Weakest Link. Ten kids had to guess the celebrity speaking by creating an identikit picture in the same vein as the board game. It was a crazy concept and wouldn’t have worked except for Yvonne; she was really beautiful in a neurotic, scatty way; flaunting a girlish sexuality she never knew she had. Owen knew he had to have her and spent ages worming his way closer to her.

His final break came when the quiz show finally fizzled and she was left without a project to go to. She was scatty enough to believe in ghosts and hauntings; all that kind of crap. Ghostwatch had just been on the BBC and caused an overnight sensation with so many people believing it was real. Owen had almost believed but he recognised the actress playing the mother and everything else fell into place: Throw enough money into it, make it seem as realistic as possible and ground it in emotional realism then people will believe anything. Just like the original stage magicians understood it was all done with smoke, mirrors and plenty of misdirection. At this stage the ‘found-footage’ horror hadn’t been thought of so Owen’s radical idea of having everything being shot as though by hand-held cameras was revolutionary and when he worked everything out he approached Yvonne with the idea. She fell for it.. And fell for him, which is what he ultimately was after.

Although he hated the name of Ghosthaunters it did add a bit of quirkyness to the proceedings, grounded the show in normality and was easy to remember. It was actually a genius name, though he’d never admit it to her face…. And for a while it really worked. It was all crap, of course, something that he never believed.. But then he didn’t need to. The main thing was that the audience did. In the first season they were able to coast on novelty.  They occupied small venues that were known to be haunted; camped out with the owners permission and set up enough jump scares to keep audiences happy. Obviously he’d kept Yvonne in the dark about what was going on -her reactions were always priceless. The queen of the scream. It was clear though that she no longer enjoyed it and he now had come to loathe her. 

The Desmond debacle had soured everything and he blamed Yvonne for finally getting rid of him; even though he had leaked the information to the press. Owen wanted a character arc though. He wanted Desmond to have some time off and come back spiritually refreshed and a ‘true’ psychic. The British public loved a sob-story, after all, and they would have been watching with bated breath to see if Desmond would be back to his old tricks again before being shocked by the technical brilliance of his predictions… but it never happened; and the show was never the same again.

It had limped along for years. Even the so-called demonologist, Bob Cowley, hadn’t left any lasting impression. They lacked the budget for demon-manifestations and many people asked what was the point of having him on the programme -truth be told, he was there to do the actual research and set up the more  elaborate set-pieces.. (and to be fair, he was very good at that, and knew exactly how to time it to maximise Yvonne’s reaction!).

It had been Yvonne’s idea to hire a professional skeptic in the form of Simon. Owen had been dead set against that, especially after the debacle and fallout from Desmond, but Yvonne explained that the key term would be ‘hired’. Simon wouldn’t really be a skeptic, he was an old contact from her previous job -an out of work actor who would just pretend to be a skeptic, just as they were ‘pretending’ to be ghost hunters. She deliberately emphasised the pretending.

He couldn’t pin down the time when his disappointment with Yvonne grew to actual loathing.  It was gradual really, in the years that followed Owen lost all respect for her as a presenter, an actress and finally a spouse. He was now trapped; where once he had plans to become something big in the television world, he was now the straight man in a farcical live-action Scooby-Do series. 

He couldn't believe he actually regretted the first time he hit Yvonne. He was drunk for the first time in years and she’d never seen him like it. It was just after Desmond's funeral and she couldn’t understand why Owen was crying when he came back from the pub. Owen reacted out of drunkenness he would tell her later, crying for forgiveness afterward but the truth was he had been bottling it up for ages. That she believed him was a testament to his acting skills and for a while the marriage just simmered before the next bust up.. And the next after that. Yvonne was too scared to make anything public and made a habit of wearing demure clothes that revealed none of her bruises.

Ten years and he'd finally had enough. Helen had convinced him to face Yvonne on camera and then just walk away. It sounded good to him.

3)

"Welcome to a very special program of Ghosthaunters. My name is Yvonne Hardacher and this is our tenth anniversary special, and to celebrate we're re-visiting the very first place we ever investigated: Crowley Hall. It was at one time a National Trust property but now just a derelict with a whole history of ghosts, apparitions and spooky occurrences. As usual we've got the whole team with both Bob Crowley, our resident demonologist and our newest recruit, skeptic Steve Buschell."

The afternoon had barely struck four and it had taken them the first few hours setting up the camera's and mixing desks. Bob had worked with Steve, who was responsible for miking the place up, to ensure that all the rooms were wired and 'boobied' in Owens terminology. Everything had been set up so doors banged on command and both Bob and Steve either carried objects to throw, or knew where the stage props were for later. 

No one else knew, not even Owen -it  was necessary to ensure that their reactions were genuine. Owen seemed more pensive than normal, didn't want to get involved with the pre-show camaraderie as he normally did. For some reason he hung around Helen, who was the newest recruit.

Yvonne looked askance at them constantly and it was obvious she was uncomfortable having Helen around.  Steve  had only been with the team less than a year but even he felt awkward about the arrangement; but it wouldn't matter soon. Things were going to happen later that would  make this anniversary edition definitely something to remember.

"Before we go any further," Yvonne continued, speaking into the camera which was currently being held by Bob. "Can anyone remember that first night? The first broadcast? I was so nervous." 

"The way you wore your hair back then, love, I'm not surprised. " Owen chipped in and Helen laughed into her hand like a schoolgirl.

"Now, that's not nice, Owen." Yvonne complained, shocked by the edge in Owen's voice. Where had that come from? He was supposed to recall one of the events that they'd encountered. Steve chipped in to her defense.

"Don't worry, Yvonne. He's only jealous -back then he actually had hair, after all. He must be finding things a bit drafty tonight."

"Just watch it, Steve." Owen snarled before realising this was being caught on camera.

"I do remember the first time we had one of the doors slam, Yvonne." Bob continued. "It was the door to the kitchen and we knew that it had a mind of its own anyway, but when it slammed we were all shook up but you screamed like a right one!" Everyone laughed.

"And the legend was born." Owen chipped in, sarcastically. Yvonne tried to ignore him but Steve saw she was hurt.

"Tonight we're hoping to re-create the magic of that first night and go deeper with our new insights and technology. We've got Bob who knows more of the history of this place, and Steve to debunk his wilder stories." Yvonne carried on, trying to maintain her composure. "What we're going to do now is just walk around the property first whilst its light and we can familiarise ourselves with the layout and then later we can turn the lights out. Now, before we go any further I have to stress that this is now a fully abandoned and derelict building. It's also been condemned  and some of it has rotten floorboards and some rooms have no floors at all so we're all going to have to be careful and look after each other."

4)

Whilst Bob gave his normal preamble about the history of the building and the ghosts that supposedly haunted the place Yvonne found herself thinking inevitably about Desmond who had been the fourth member of the team at the start of it all. At that time he was just the camera man and it was only later that he developed into the role of team psychic. It was after he had visited a holistic fayre that he'd been introduced to the idea and he felt drawn to it; suggested it to Yvonne, who had liked it. They were all aware that they were sitting on a potential gold mine because no one else had thought about an actual series about Haunted places and back then there were no other tv psychics -Desmond wanted to be the first. Owen thought it was a crap idea but back then he was just the silent partner. 

There was only one small problem, Desmond was an abysmal psychic and couldn't get any feelings about the first two places they visited. His attempts at using the Ouija board  were problematic and boring and threatened to derail this fledgling program into a laughing stock. (how ironic was that?) Owen suggested that Desmond could either make it all up or do research before the show and then use creative license to spin a yarn that the viewers at home could believe in. Yvonne was dead set against this but Desmond, although initially siding with Yvonne, soon saw the more lucrative side that Owen was suggesting. That was the first step on that slippery slope that led to ruin.

Bob had finished his preamble and they all split up into groups. Owen thought it would be a great idea to have Sandy and Helen take the most haunted area of the property. Sandy was grounded and knew there was nothing to worry about; Helen was a complete contrast -she was actually a fan of the series and believed everything she heard and saw. She jumped at the slightest provocation and, since she'd started, ratings had gone up quite a bit to see what kind of a farago she'd create. Her screams and juddery personality made for great viewing.

Owen, Yvonne and Bob went together to the basement, which had a bad reputation; whilst the others were conspicuously absent to create all the shenanigans. Everyone had handheld cameras with a narrow field of view, which was perfect to hide things that Owen would use later on. Once again, Yvonne was blissfully unaware what was going to happen, but this time Owen and Bob had concocted a rather nasty story thread . Bob was aware of Owen's infidelity but knew where his next paycheck was coming from so had kept quiet for months.

Yvonne knew that Bob was just a jobbing actor, but also knew of his past (something that Owen wasn't aware) and consequently would never allow him to be alone with Sandy. Yvonne warned Bob once but that was enough; this was going to be payback though.

5)

The camera had been recording for a few minutes and Helen was walking up the stairs in front of Sandy. Every creak of the stairs made Helen squeal in fright; every mote of dust in the air made her whirl around in shock. This is going to be an arduous evening, Sandy thought. What the hell did Owen see in her?

When they finally reached the hallway and walked into the nearest room they did what was expected of them and just stood still for a bit, barely breathing. It was important that the camera picked up the baseline quiet so any sound would be amplified. Steve was somewhere around and it was important that they ignore him. Sandy found it easy but Helen just jumped at everything.

"What the hell does he see in you?" Sandy finally muttered after Helen almost leaped into her arms when she caught sight of her own reflection in one of the few remaining windows.

"What did you say?" Helen snapped, pushing herself away.

"How long do you think this can go on between you too?" Sandy asked.

"What's it to you? Who do you think you are?"

"Yvonne's friend. I've known her a long time and I won't see you hurt her."

"You want to be careful -point your nose into things that have nothing to do with you and one of us might end up an actual ghost!" Helen threatened. And it was then that Steve chose to throw the wrench into the room making them both bolt for the stairs, shrieking like schoolgirls.

The basement was very small and had once been a wine cellar, though Bob was explaining how it had once been used for more nefarious purposes. Although it had once been a National Trust place it had been a stately home apparently owned by a very questionable person who was part of a black magic lodge.

"That can't be right, Bob." Yvonne questioned. "That never came up when we were here last."

"Do you honestly believe that, Yvonne?" Bob replied, raising his eyebrow. "I'm not sure the National Trust would ever have admitted that to you; it doesn't exactly paint them in a great light..."

"So how do you know about it?" She asked.

"C'mon... think about it." Owen chipped in, using the camera to focus on her puzzled face. "He's a demonologist, after all." The camera had a light attached. It wasn't very bright but it was enough that they could make out where they were in the room.

Yvonne almost let the cat out the bag by saying the truth, but knew that Owen was just trying to trip her up for some reason. Something was going on, he was being really nasty to her. "Ok, then. What happened?"

"It was a ritual sacrifice, normally a woman. They'd take her down, leave her alone in the dark so she'd never know what was going to happen to her." Bob was relishing this and Owen was making the most of every micro-gesture of fear on Yvonne's face. She knew it was false; knew there were no such things as ghosts but she had no idea what was going to happen next. "Normally they'd use this." Bob stated, holding up a stone knife he'd fashioned himself. It was as blunt as hell, but she didn't know that. Just then Owen turned the light out and Yvonne screamed despite herself. Bob had lunged at her just as the light went out and she stepped back, twisting her ankle as she did so.

The light snapped on all of a sudden and she was splayed out on the floor, rubbing her head. Owen and Bob were laughing their heads off, the camera still pointing at her.

"Bastards." She spat, despite herself.

"Careful now, there might be kiddies watching." Owen retorted and walked up the stairs with Bob, leaving her there sobbing. What was going wrong?  She didn't want to carry on anymore; everything felt as if it was all falling apart. Just then she felt a soft presence behind her and a hand  pressed lightly on her shoulder. She didn't jump because if felt familiar, although it shouldn't have done. "It's all going to be ok, pet." Desmond whispered to her, but it couldn't have been.

6)

Ten minutes later they all converged on the ground floor again. Sandy looked shaken and Yvonne saw Helen pull Owen to one side and mutter something. It was then that she realised what had been going on. She cursed herself for being so blind and wanted to have it out with Owen right then but he already suggested that he was going up with Sandy, whilst Helen and Steve would go into the basement allowing Yvonne to recover from her 'fall'.

Yvonne wanted to call him a rat bastard but thought better of it. She was aware that Bob was going down into the basement with Steve and Helen for some reason; which suited her fine because she couldn't stand Bob. It gave her time to think back to Desmond once more. She still felt guilty for what had happened to him, despite trying to talk him out of it several times. He was too enamored with his own fiction and played too much into the theatrics of the psychic role he was creating. Into the third season and it had almost become the Desmond show and Owen was becoming sick of it and given several warnings that it wouldn't be tolerated but Desmond ignored him.

Owen was very sneaky and started feeding duff information to Desmond; names that were really acronyms of rude words and vaguely licentious facts. This all prompted Desmond to behave like a caricature of himself and it all accumulated when Owen sent an anonymous message to the local press that Desmond was either making stuff up or had done an impressive amount of research to make his psychic readings more professional and believable. The press, understandably, jumped at this and set Desmond some obvious tests, all of which he failed miserably -which, of course he would.

Yvonne was forced to fire him because of the scandal; it seriously threatened to derail the series, which she still believed in. Owen had told her none of what he'd done and she was horrified by what had happened. Desmond was a broken man afterwards and no one wanted to touch him; he was the subject of ridicule wherever he went and he could never go back to being an actor again,

He cut all ties with the show and with Yvonne, and the next she heard about him was when the news reported his body had been found in his home, after overdosing on sleeping pills and whiskey. She wasn't allowed to the funeral for some reason, but Owen went and came home crying, absolutely drunk. That was the first time he'd ever shouted at her and he actually told her what he'd done. She was speechless and sickened. That was the first time he lost his temper with her and although the slap had been brief it had nonetheless been painful and left her reeling. Owen apologised that night, but that was the one and only time. The beatings continued.

Upstairs Owen made sure that he was between Sandy and the stairs. He waited until they were alone and deliberately kept the camera off this time. He wanted to keep this as brief as possible.

"If you want to make it out of here in one piece then I suggest you keep your mouth shut." He said very calmly to her. "Yvonne will find out when I'm ready to tell her. If you say anything to her about this or about Helen then there will be one other ghost haunting here. Got that?" Sandy could barely nod. She'd seen the bruises on Yvonne's arms and throat at times but had never said anything. Owen was a dangerous man and she had just found out how far he would go. She watched as he walked down the stairs letting the light drain from the room around her.

7)

It took Sandy a few minutes to come down and meet up with the rest of the group again in the great hall. Yvonne saw Owen come down alone and walk to the corner where Bob and Helen were and then Sandy walked down in tears. Steve rushed over to her, concerned and Yvonne went over to them, hobbling a bit still. 

Steve had managed to get the truth out of Sandy what had happened, despite herself.

"This is an all time low, even for you, Owen." He snapped.

"You going to believe her or me?" Owen replied, belligerently. "Who I sleep with is up to me."

"Who said anything about that?" Steve replied, almost triumphantly. "She just said you'd threatened her."

"Bastard." Owen snapped.

"You're the rat bastard, Owen." Yvonne responded. "I can believe I've spent so long with 

you, and for what? So much for the anniversary edition!"

"Are you kidding me? Grow up -this is dynamite! I've been filming everything. It may be the last episode but it'll be the perfect swansong!"

KERRASH!! The bottle exploded millimeters from his head, sending shards spiralling out. Luckily only Owen was cut by the glass and he looked at Steve.

"I didn't bloody throw it!" Steve shouted, shocked as much as the rest of them. 

"Who the hell threw that then?" Bob exclaimed, wiping the spilled liquid off his suit. 

Suddenly they were aware of a light at the end of the room, someone was standing there. It was actually three people, just silhouettes, but it was obvious that they had thrown the bottle. The team were now in a great deal of trouble -they'd never thought of the possibilities of squatters!

Bob, Owen and Helen just ran off through the nearest door, leaving the rest of the crew to the mercy , but they hadn't kept an eye on their surroundings and hadn't realised that they were running into the dilapidated part of the building where they'd been warned off. None of them were paying any attention to where they were going and it was Helen who fell first. The non-existent floorboards were no longer holding her weight and she fell with full force, with Owen right on top of her. They never stood a chance and the fall was impressive. Bob stopped in time and looked in horror at the bloodied, broken heap below them, unaware of the squatters who were walking behind him.

8)

Yvonne, Steve and Sandy just held each other. They didn't know what to do; they didn't know how many squatters were left in the building let alone what was likely to happen. Sandy looked around her with one of the few torches left and recognised where they were; the front door was just in the opposite direction from where Owen had run, but  it was also in the direction from where the bottle had been thrown. 

They were too tired and scared to run and it would be hours before it became light again. Steve was all for creating a diversion so the two women could escape but Yvonne had seen enough hurt and pain for the evening. She just wanted to leave and got the three of them to walk calmly to the entrance, holding the remaining torch in the least threatening way she could think off. 

Sure enough the entrance was less than twenty feet in front of them, but as they got closer they could see the three squatters from before.

"I'm so sorry we've invaded your space. We had no right to do so and we're all so sorry. Please just let us go and you'll never hear from us again." She said as calmly as she could, her voice wobbling as much as her legs. She tried walking as slowly as she could to the door.

"You're Yvonne.... Hardacher, aren't you?!" One of the squatters exclaimed, walking into the light. Yvonne nodded in a daze. "I remember you from kiddies television! I used to love watching you.." She blushed despite herself. Another one of the squatters, a woman this time said, "You do that Ghosthunter show, don't you? Is this one now??" The woman was almost beside herself with the prospect. "Does that mean we're on television now?" The third one said and actually tried to smooth his hair straight. 

"You can be if you want to be." Steve said, despite himself. He could scarcely understand what was happening.

"You're the skeptic, aren't you?" The first one said and Steve wanted to crawl under a rock.

"I was.. but I think Yvonne's making a believer out of me." He replied.

"Well, before you all go I've got one thing to say to Yvonne that will make you all believe." The third squatter remarked. They were almost at the door and Yvonne was about to turn the handle. She turned around and looked puzzled. 

"This is from Desmond?" The squatter said. "He says to keep your chin up, pet; and don't stop believing."

Strange happenings on a train

The trouble with trains these days is that we’re all strangers… and that’s just fine with me. Peoples subconscious leak all the time so being on a train makes things even worse, and if it wasn’t for the damn snow I’d surely be driving. However, (un)luckily, the trains are somehow still working. Or at least they were.

Five minutes ago they stopped with no explanation and it’s starting to get cold now. We’re about an hour’s unforgiving walk between stations, but at least the train is offering us some comfort. I say us, but there’s not many of us around. It’s past rush hour and there’s not many sods mad enough to take the chance, especially when the news has been warning people not to travel… course, I’m here… well, because.

One day I’ll learn not to act on these impulses but it’s like a compulsion; like having a nagging wife but at migraine level.

There are nine people in the carriage with me, most of them keeping to themselves. Even in the frozen wastes no one wants to acknowledge the other, let alone talk. Whatever happened to the Dunkirk spirit, eh?

The snow’s coming down harder now, I don’t reckon there’s much chance of us moving for a while. A message on the tannoy confirms this; the driver sounding more stressed than apologetic as if he’s got better places to be than here. Yeah, well.. me too!

I walk up and down the carriage a couple of times just so I can get a feel for the people I’m going to be spending the foreseeable future with. First of all the Flemmings, Bob and Jo. Nice couple, old and still very much in love; holding hands against the cold with eyes only for each other.

And strangely enough Harry and Sue Ellison are doing the same, spending a lot of the time staring at Bob and Jo as well. They’re not making it obvious, of course, but they can see them reflected in the carriage windows. There’s a strange hunger to their gaze; but Harry is wearing a dog collar and Sue has that hypocritical piety that only comes from being the Vicar’s wife. I tell myself that I’m being overly cynical, that they’re only looking at the old couple in prayer and not as prey….I just don’t trust Christians. The fact that I get very little from them adds to my cynicism. Bob and Jo are very warm, obviously compatible, but Harry and Sue just aren’t; they seem so uncomfortable as if even their skin is ill-fitting. In fact, all I can gleam from them is their names; this level of mental shielding is unparalleled but I move on before I get a headache.

Robert and Barbara Deighton match me for my cynicism though; they have every reason to hate the clergy that makes my subtle distrust seem healthy. Their son had been ritually abused for many years by their local Priest and I could see that Robert was using all his restraint. I could see that all he wanted to do was strangle them with their own dog collars. Barbara is shifting between wanting to stop him and doing the same thing herself. The hate is infectious so I move on again to Jim and Edith Maclean.

Both seem wholesome and… knowing. I sense a kindred spirit and when Jim turns to wink at me I know I’m right. I get a glimpse of a smiling sun from Edith and then I’m blocked out. I make a mock bow to both and move on again.

Alistair Fowles is seething; he really did have an important place to go and I can see his mood just getting worse as the time progresses.

The sky is getting blacker, even for Winter this is unheard of; I’ve never seen storm clouds this severe before; the wind is buffeting the train, making it shake. There’s no way we’ll be leaving for a while yet so I go to sit back down in my own spot but Jim and Edith beckon me to sit next to them, which I do gratefully.

“What are you thinking?” Edith asks.

“Probably the same as you, something rotten is happening and it’s not the lack of customer service.”

“I haven’t seen weather like this since ’86.” Jim concurred and I knew exactly what he meant.

“You were out in that too, eh?”

“We needed to hold the fort somehow.”

“You got the dreams as well, then?” I asked. They nodded gravely. “I never want to meet that eight armed bitch again…She was one of the scariest apparitions I’ve ever faced.”

“We saw Fenris.” Edith replied. “A group of us ended up protecting Cissbury Ring; sitting at its base in a circle.”

“That must have been dicey.” I replied. “Chanctonbury was in negative that night.. it must have been terrible!”

“You don’t know the half of it… I was a redhead!” Edith smiled, she was now a very dignified silver-grey.

“I was given the Yew tree at Slaugham to guard; we’ve looked out for each other over the years so it was the least I could do… So what are you feeling now?” Both looked at each other.

“If it gets any worse then we’ll have to pull together; strength in numbers and all that. Will you be able to do that?”

“I’ll find a way.. I can be dead persuasive when I puts me mind to it.” Just then the lights go out and despite it being nearly mid-day you’d think we’d been plunged into darkness. There was the inevitable scream but for once I could understand it. There was something unnatural about the darkness. Jim and Edith’s hands found mine and, for once, I felt pleased for the sentiment. They were completely right as well, it was far safer this way. We could feel our energies radiate out and then suddenly the lights flicked back on.

“Right… that’s enough! I’ll bring us together.” I told them both and stood up.

“Look guys!” I shouted to the rest of them. “We’re going to be here for some time; it’s going to get a darn sight colder before too long and I can’t imagine that we’re going to get rescued for a bit so I reckon we should all get a lot closer together and keep each other company, like.”

“Who died and put you in charge?” Alistair said. I knew he’d be the one to cause trouble.

“Don’t be so foul, mate. You want to end up like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining, that’s fine by me. The rest of you scoot up here with us three.” Being a frozen arse-icle didn’t appeal to Alistair so he joined us and pretty soon we were all huddled together with Jim and Edith providing the tea and sympathy to my rugged practicality.

Maths was never my strong point but even I could tell that there weren’t enough of us and it wasn’t difficult to realise that we were missing the puritanical Ellisons. I looked around the carriage but they were nowhere to be seen. Strange. There was nowhere for them to go, the doors to the other compartments had stayed shut and it was impossible for anyone to operate the doors to the outside.

I urged the others to look for them but Robert and Barbara, unsurprisingly, refused  to join in the search. I noted it down for future reference but knew that now wasn’t the time to push them on it. In any normal circumstances they would have been my first suspicion regarding foul play. To them it might have been justified, I’m sure, but we hadn’t even found a body yet.

Bob and Jo, the ever loving couple, were almost giggling like a couple of nasty schoolchildren when we all gathered together again; no one had found anything. Somehow the Ellison’s had completely disappeared, which didn’t make any sense at all.

“It must have happened during the blackout.” Alistair remarked, although no one actually asked him.

“Ok, wise guy; what happened?” I asked. I mean, he wasn’t wrong as it was the only time such a thing could have happened, but how? “Go on… venture a theory.” I needled.

“It’s not my area of expertise, mate. More on your line, isn’t it?”

“We met before?” I asked.

“Let’s just say we have mutual friends. Remember the McKlusky’s?” Great. Just what I needed; the power of schadenfreude slaps me round the face again. “Brilliant… look, we don’t have time for this.” I looked at him, sizing him up in case things got out of hand. I really hoped that they wouldn’t, but like with the McKlusky’s, things have a habit of going very wrong, very quickly.  “Are we going to have a problem?” I asked again.

“What happened to the McKlusky’s?” Barbara asked.

“Their daughter had a mysterious illness that no one could figure out. He got involved and then…”

“I asked if we were going to have a problem..” I interrupted. “Look; I don’t have to get involved, believe me. I really don’t want to and never have done. They came to me; perhaps you didn’t know that…”

Edith put her hand on my arm and I felt her energy calm me. Alistair looked at her and back at me.

“No, we got no problem.. this time.” He replied.

“I can live with that…” I looked around me and saw that it was getting dark again. The air around us felt dank and claustrophobic somehow. Something was circling us, I could tell.

“We need to hold hands, in a kind of makeshift circle, the best we can.” I said as calmly as I could. “I know how this sounds but it’s something that we have to do.” I held hands with Edith one side and James the other; Barbara held Jo’s hand with Robert then Bob and then Alistair. I could see all of them, but either it was a trick of the light or both Bob and Jo had a vicious glint in their eyes that was as sinister as it was incongruous. There was something malevolent happening and they should have been at least scared or upset even. However, I didn’t have time for that, it was getting dark again. Everyone looked at me for succour and I almost shrugged my shoulders as if to say “what do you want me to do about it?” but I had just set myself up as the leader of this band of misfits. To break faith now could be disastrous.

“Whatever you do, don’t break the circle; things are likely to get a lot weirder. Keep looking at me. I know I ain’t pretty but keep looking into my eyes.”

I could feel their gaze on me; they drew strength from someone being in control and I drew strength from James and Edith; we were now one and I could see through their eyes as well. I knew what was happening now and what had befell Harry and Sue.

I looked at what remained of the love birds Bob and Jo and spoke so only they could hear me.

“I know what you are and what you’ve done.” Outwith I saw their demon wings unfold as they stripped themselves of their human vestments that had been the Flemmings.

“Smart..” I said with more gusto than I actually felt. “Or should I say devious? Hide yourselves in the last bodies you devoured…” The Ellisons, if they had ever been in the first place, smiled in unison and then spoke as one.

“Clever mortal. We like intelligence, so much more filling. The old couple’s souls were stringy, gristle in our teeth.”

“Ah… one entity…I see, ingenious!  So, why now? Why this train? And why them?”

“Why not? Time is slowly becoming ours, soon there will be no more places for you to hide.”

“Who’s hiding? I came on this journey to find you.” I bluffed. “I’d like to say that I wasn’t disappointed.. but…”

“Silence… you have done a very foolish thing, mortal, meeting with us outwith your plane.” Psychic claws raked at me and I winced in pain.

“Who says I’m alone? There’s perhaps two of you here but there’s at least five others with me!” I drew on the strength of those I’d left behind on the train.
“More for us to feed on then.” The Demon boasted and I felt pain deeper within. Now was the time to play my final hand.

“Don’t… don’t take them. It’s me you want.” This was music to their ears, I could feel their cancerous souls seethe over mine, blocking out the light, leeching through my mind with acid eating away at my core. I allowed them deeper until they got exactly where I wanted them. Whatever had enlisted them obviously hadn’t told them much about me, or they were complete amateurs. This wasn’t much of a psychic trap but it worked perfectly on them.

If you’re going to ‘invite’ demons to claim your soul then make sure you have a more powerful sonnovabitch lay claim beforehand. By the time they realised what was happening they couldn’t turn back; rather than try to consume me it was them who were eaten up, drained of their very life essences. They didn’t even get a chance to scream….

…and suddenly I was back on the Earth plain again, holding hands and watching as the bodies that had been Bob and Jo disintegrated in front of us. Robert, Barbara and Alistair were gobsmacked by what had just happened and even James and Edith were speechless. I don’t think they’d ever had the misfortune to encounter anything this evil before. But the carriage was now lighter and even the snow had stopped. There were still a couple of hours before we were to be rescued, I guessed, but that hopefully gave me enough time to explain to them all had just happened.

Ghost watch

We’d been there for hours; hours of mind-numbing boredom: so much for the haunted house of Haywards Heath; so much for the local branch of the Sussex Spirit’s Society; so much for my first attempt at organising an all-night vigil. I prayed for something to happen; practically sold my soul for a paranormal encounter. Be careful what you wish for; by morning three of us would be dead; the rest irrevocably changed. One thing’s for sure, none of us would doubt the veracity of the Spirit world again.

Fed by an unhealthy obsession with horror films and programmes like Most Haunted, I wanted to set up my own paranormal investigation Meet-up group. I’d been to several ghost evenings run by other organisations but often found them to be contrived, fake and very unrewarding. A lot of money spent on props and technology with lots of people jumping at their own shadows and very little actual research into what they were looking for. God knows what would have happened should they have actually found it!

They were less inclined to keep open minds and saw it as an excuse to prove to everyone else how much of a medium they were (to me they were all medium); when in actual fact they were just charlatans.

To my mind you didn’t need technology; just sensitive people who were open to the paranormal. You also needed someone who didn’t believe (or who demanded proof over supposition), someone that could keep their feet firmly on the ground.

I advertised on Meet-Up and carefully vetoed those people who wanted to join. Out of thirty people I selected just five to go along with me on this first nights vigil.

Elspeth was pale, in the wrong light it was possible to mistake her for a ghost. She was quiet; unassuming (to a point) but full of moral objections and constantly sought the higher ground. She was a vegan and saw that as the backbone to her extreme sensitivity; in her own words she wasn’t sullied by dead flesh.

John was the complete opposite. His voice were darkly hued, rich and almost mellow; he had the ability to relax and calm almost any situation down just by talking. It helped that he was well over six foot tall with an athletic physique. He was the cynic in the team… well, that wasn’t strictly true. He wanted to believe but also wanted proof not some flowery language about ectoplasm or pseudo-scientific bull. Consequently he did not get on well with Elspeth; there was no middle ground between them.

Nor did he get on well with James either; and I could quite understand why: James was very full of himself; he had the contacts; the know-how and the expertise. It was James that secured the venue –which had remained derelict for quite some time before we walked in. James did everything to excess and it showed; a firm believer in his own hype and nor did he suffer fools gladly. (Of course, those so-called fools were the ones that either disagreed with him or disbelieved him.)

Rachel’s surname was Bland and that pretty much summed her up; unassuming in every way, no curves to her personality. She was unsure about the paranormal; she was interested in it but was uncommitted in that as she was in everything else. She was to be my control.

Veronica had had a few paranormal experiences and wanted to know more; this was her first time on a ghost hunting expedition and had high hopes. I didn’t want to disappoint her.

Although James had picked the venue I did my own background check on it and had to agree that it was the perfect place to hold our first investigation; plenty of spirits we could get in contact with, so I arranged for us to meet and, as luck would have it, we fixed the date for Halloween itself.

Everyone was excited, except for me as I had a lot riding on it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could pull something off like this and finally become a success. I think that’s what blinded me in the end and put so many people’s lives at risk.

I arrived at 8.30pm and made sure that everything was set up: tables and chairs for each of the rooms; drinks and food; walkie talkies for each of us. The toilet didn’t flush but I’d brought enough water to even deal with that eventuality

James was, unsurprisingly, the first to arrive. He’d brought his Ouija board and, although I’d expressly forbidden any technology, his EVP recorder. “It’s pretty much my money that’s financing this little venture; I found out about this place so you’re going to have to indulge me, aren’t you?”

Unsurprisingly all the women came together: strength in numbers, especially when dealing with the occult; and John arrived last.

We’d set our base of operations in the kitchen-dining area; James had already set things up with the Ouija board in the centre of the room and chairs placed around it. Rachel was the first person to talk: “So why have you kept so much of this a secret?”

“Yes, you only told us where we were going this afternoon.” John agreed.

“I didn’t want any of you to have any pre-conceived ideas of where we were going. I don’t want this event to be ruined by prejudice or ego. I also don’t want you to worry yourself unduly –which you might have done if you knew the history (which I’m sure a couple of you do now).” I explained. “This has to be approached in a completely detached and unemotional way; leave your ego’s at the door please, there’s no place for them here. Let your ego get in the way and you may jeopardise my goal tonight or even put us all at risk.”

“Just what are your goals, Michael?” Elspeth asked. I sighed. Out of all the people I picked for this evening I knew that Elspeth would prove the biggest problem; she had an ego bigger than the whole group combined –and that included James as well!

“Ok; I will… and I’ll explain why I picked this place tonight… Sorry.. we picked.” I felt James bristle at my choice of words but he didn’t rise to it. “The two failings of all the ghost hunting programmes and expeditions is that they’re either staged or done for the wrong reasons. People are too interested in the glamour; they don’t care about actually communicating with those that have passed over. To them it’s the spectacle; the thrill of being frightened; the hype and excitement. They’re not disciplined and become frightened by their own shadows or the slightest noise.

“What’s more, they pay money for the experience and so the things are staged –either with confederates or with carefully scripted episodes. Don’t forget suggestibility plays a large part in these things. But…” I paused and tried to gauge whether people understood me. All but James and Elspeth were paying close heed. James just wanted to play with his toys and Elspeth just wanted a chance to show off her skills. “what have they missed due to their blinkered expectations? Note that the questions are always ‘Did you hear that? It sounded like a….’ which is more likely to elicit a similar response rather than a ‘what do you think that was?’ which is an open question and will allow more debate, and is more likely to be debunked.”

Veronica put her hand up, wishing to speak. “That I understand, Michael; but why choose here of all places? You must know the history.”  I looked at James before replying.

“Yes, I’ve lived here long enough and actually used to live in this very road, although I never met the residents. Note that I didn’t tell you their name. If you do happen to know I trust you to be discrete. By not knowing all names become equal and should you hear anything at all you won’t be trying to fit it into something that is already present in your mind.

“The history of this place goes back many years. A white witch used to live here, believe it or not. This is going back between the wars and she lived here for years, and was accepted by the community. Then in the ‘60’s, before the summer of love and freak power, the house was broken into and she was murdered. Some people say she put a curse on the house but how is that viable or even verifiable? I tell you this so you understand the type of thing we are working against: hyperbole, gossip, fiction. Though we can’t call this a scientific investigation I would still like to treat it as such.

“The place remained derelict for a few years before a young couple moved in. They lived here for three years before she became pregnant and the girl was actually delivered here. They seemed very happy for the first five months then, whether it was because of post-natal depression or mistreatment by the husband, she took the lives of both her daughter and husband by exsanguination; she’d drugged her husband with whiskey and sleeping tablets.”

“That’s horrible..” Rachel said, trying hard to hold back the tears.

“Another family moved in a few years after.” I continued. “They were expecting, but the child was still born… and when they moved out the house remained as you see now.”

“If I had known this beforehand there’s no way I would have joined you.” John snapped, making a move to leave.

“You don’t strike me as the reactionary type, John.” James replied. John whirled around.

“James does have a point.” I agreed, if only to try and defuse the situation. “You can’t subscribe to the view that buildings have memories, do you? That the very bricks themselves become infused with the evil around them? That’s poppycock!”

“Well… I..”

“We’ve spoken enough times about the nature of good and evil, especially when applying it to nature and the animal kingdom; is this any different?” John shook his head. “If I had the slightest feeling that you were going to react this way I would never have invited you here. Remember what I said about the ego? Well, reactions are the very heart of it. If you, or anyone tonight feels a reaction I would urge you to swallow it; don’t act on it. There’s no place for the ego here tonight. Reactions do not come from a place of truth, and that’s the only thing we’re looking for.”

John was placated by this and I turned to the rest. “I believe that you all have the right to know the history of this place and, having heard, you all have the right to leave now; but before you make up your mind know this; stone is inanimate. We seek only to communicate, to open the door, if you will; to allow open communication with whatever still dwells here. It can only affect us if we allow it to. We have to physically open ourselves to it before it can do anything, and I don’t believe there’s anyone here that stupid who would.. The Ouija board and James contraption are the only methods we will use and they will not put us in any form of danger, so we’ll be completely safe. So.. does anyone want to withdraw? Please do so now…. No? Then we’ll begin.”

It all started so innocently enough. We sat around the table with the Ouija board in the centre. Initially our hands were simply on the table as I wanted to see whether it was possible for the planchet to move on its own, but after ten minutes of questions nothing happened. Even when we placed our hands on the planchet itself nothing happened for another thirty minutes before it suddenly shifted to the I. Everyone took a sharp intake of breath and watched as it moved from the M to the B, then O; R; E; D.

The table then collapsed into hilarity and the almost-reverent atmosphere I had tried so hard to create was broken. It wasn’t hard to realise that it was James behind it.

“I’m sorry.” He said with no prompting. “I just want to use my Spirit Box.” John rolled his eyes at this and Elspeth looked ready to lynch him but James carried on regardless. “It monitors AM frequencies and white noise so that the Spirits can get into contact with us.”

“So it’s a form of short wave radio then.” Elspeth bit back, James looked deflated. “Look, we’re not all moron’s. Even I know that John Logie Baird, Alexander Graham Bell and Marconi were all stanch Spiritualists. The radio, television and telephone all had other applications; and that was to contact the other side. All your device does is amplify those messages and monitor a wider frequency set.”

Now Rachel seemed impressed; she had found a kindred spirit.

James went off into another room in a huff and took John and Rachel, leaving Elspeth and Veronica with me, and from the sounds of it they were in the living room so I suggested we go upstairs. The family had died upstairs and I thought that Elspeth would be able to hold a mini séance there. Of course, she had no idea where the deaths had taken place therefore the results, if any, would not be tainted by prior knowledge, or what I call leakage.

We stood in the centre of the room and held hands in a semi-triangular formation..

“Is there anyone there?” Elspeth said after breathing deeply half-a-dozen times. I used to think that it was a necessity; part of the need to tune in, but I’ve since found that not to be the case. I suppose even Medium’s need to market themselves and it all forms part of the act. Nothing happened, so Elspeth tried again. Again with the heavy breathing and looking at Veronica I was pleased that I wasn’t the only one finding it hard to keep a straight face. I was just about to break the circle when Elspeth said:

“Did you hear that?” Veronica looked at me and shrugged.

“What do you think that you heard?” Veronica asked and I winced; I knew what was going to happen next.

“Excuse me, child; I did not think anything. I heard a young girl-child giggle. The fact that you didn’t hear anything says more to me about your sensitivity; or lack of.” I could see Veronica bristle at this and she was about to break the circle when we all heard it.

It was unnerving, but unmistakable; it was clearly the giggle of a little girl. It seemed so incongruous in such surroundings; knowing the history of what had happened in this room made it very sad. Elspeth seemed the most moved by this, almost desperate to get in contact, whereas Veronica seemed unsure –she was a sceptic despite wanting to believe and this had shocked her. I was unsure too; I wanted to rule out other things out before I came to any conclusions. I wanted to get James so he could verify this using his EVP recorder, but Elspeth looked at me.

“Let me try to make contact. If she responds then you can go get James. Allow me this much, please.”

There was something in the way she said please; there was something else at stake that I should’ve picked up on but I nodded. This time there were no deep breaths, no histrionics; just a calm intensity I’d not known from her before.

“I’m speaking to the little girl who just giggled at us. Thank you for letting us be aware of your presence. We won’t hurt you; we just want to talk with you.” A floorboard creaked above and Veronica winced despite herself. Then we heard a low growl, like a large predator of some kind, followed by a whimper. Something was definitely with us, maybe more than one thing. Elspeth had gone pale and her hand became sweaty. She looked at me, alarm showing in her eyes and said: “Get James.”

We could hear that he was in the next room now and part of me wondered whether it was him making the noises to frighten us because we’d mocked his machine, but not even he would stoop so low.

James said one word to me when I walked into the room they were in: “Nothing.”

“Not a damned sausage.” Rachel agreed; John looked bored now but Rachel just looked deflated.

“James; you need to come with me; bring your EVP.” James grinned at me and all three of them made to follow us but I had to stop them. “Not yet.” I explained. “I’m not even sure how James energy will affect the group dynamic in there; until I do please could you stay here? I know this is asking a lot and I do apologise but please stay as quiet as you can. I’ll include you both just as soon as I can.”

I walked into the room and immediately noticed that the temperature had dropped dramatically even in the brief time I’d been away. James noticed it too and it was obvious that he was as interested in what was happening as I was; all pretence of ego had been dropped. I told him nothing about what had happened, and nor did he expect me to. He switched on the Spirit Box and stood in the circle with us as I nodded to Elspeth.

“You can talk to us through my friend’s recorder. We would like to help you; you need not be afraid of us.” The Spirit Box gave off static and then a throaty chuckle. Now I was apprehensive; nothing I had encountered before had given off this kind of reading. James expression turned from concentration to alarm.

“Do you feel that?” Veronica asked.

“What, the sheer oppressiveness of the atmosphere or the fact that the temperature’s dropped at least ten degrees in the last thirty seconds?” James replied.

“Both.”

“I’m talking to the entity that is in here now with us. Give us a sign that you’re more than just weird atmospheric or a creaking floorboard. Make us believe that you’re here with us.” I said. This wasn’t an approach I normally believed in –antagonising the spirits- but things didn’t feel right. Suddenly Rachel screamed from the next room and we all ran to find out what had happened. She was cowering in the corner, her hands to her face with John standing over her looking shocked.

“I never touched her!” He said. I pushed past him and held her. She sobbed into my arms and I just held her until she stopped. Something had traumatised her and as I gently pushed her away I could see the livid scratch marks, vivid red, down her cheek.

The EVP crackled with something almost unintelligible. It sounded like EROFF. We played it back a few times before Veronica said “Enough! It said enough to us…”

“But why?” John asked. “Why would It say enough?”

“No… it was a question.” Elspeth said. “Enough?”

“It thinks you were goading it, Michael.” James realised. “You asked for proof… well, you got it! Do you want any more?”

I was beyond shock now, someone had actually been physically harmed by… whatever it was, and I had inadvertently provoked it. I had caused this to happen. As far as I was concerned this was proof enough; I wanted to leave now before anyone else got hurt.

Elspeth picked up on this. “You can’t!”  I was about to answer when the EVP stuttered: “Nn.n.no..p.please don’t… Don’t leave me!” It was clearly the little girls voice.

Nothing in the annals of psychic research could hold a candle to this and James knew it. He was all for staying now as well; he looked like the cat enjoying his cream. He didn’t give a damn about the little girl (or whatever the hell it was.); all he was interested in now was fame. Rachel was terrified but I knew that she couldn’t abandon the little girl. Could I?

“We’ll stay for one more hour.” I said, adamant. “But at the first sign of another attack on anyone I’m going to abort and we’ll all walk. Agreed?” John, Rachel and Veronica all agreed with no hesitation; whilst James thought about. This was more down to self-preservation though, he didn’t like the idea of being attacked either; which left Elspeth.

“I can’t leave her, Michael.”

“We don’t know who or what she is.” John replied.

“You have one hour to find out, but I’ll carry you out if I have to.”

We all needed to be of one mind; to have the intent to stay otherwise we would be vulnerable so I talked to everyone and all gave their consent except for Veronica who was shaken by what was happening.

“I don’t know.. this wasn’t what I was expecting.” She stammered. She was obviously upset and what Elspeth said next did nothing to help.

“You have to be sure – we could save a soul tonight but only with your help. But without you this night is wasted and she could well suffer for it.”

“Shut the fuck up, Elspeth!” James snapped. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“She needs to know the ramifications of what she’s doing. It’s not just her that is affected by her lack of strength!”

“She has to do this from her own volition not because you forced her into it. If anything should happen to…”

“No… it’s ok.. I’ll be alright.” Veronica interrupted. “There’s more than just me at stake now. I’ll be ok.”

“Are you sure?” James asked, but Veronica nodded.

“Well; looks like you’ve got your chance; but you and me are going to have a serious chat about tonight.” Elspeth grimaced at me. “What do you need us to do?”

“Draw a circle with a six pointed start inside it. Each of you stand at one of the points and hold hands. At no point are you to break the circle. I will stand in the centre with the EVP.”

We did as we were instructed and held hands against the now numbing cold.

“If nothing happens in the next half hour I suggest we all go home.” John said after a couple of minutes.

“Sod that! I don’t think I’ll be able to last that long!” Rachel said, but James nodded to Elspeth.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to wait long at all. Look.”

Breath was starting to condense in front of her and she started to speak, quietly at first. “..won’t hurt you. Come forth little one, we won’t hurt you; we only want to help. Come forth, little one, we don’t want to hurt you…”

“Mummy.” The EVP suddenly sprang into life again, making us all jump. It was as if the presence was in the circle with us; the signal was that clear.

“I’m here, baby; Mummy’s here!”

I looked at James who was equally as startled by this sudden change of events. He was about to point at her when she shouted, “For God’s sake, don’t break the circle! “

There was so much anguish in her voice that l almost called it off, but it was too late –there was only one person that could call it off now, and she was right in the middle of it.

“I’m here, baby; come to me.” Elspeth pleaded.

“GIRL IS MINE!” The EVP spoke again, this time a snarl; vicious; animalistic.

“Stay away from her, you bastard!” Elspeth shouted.

“Now, wait a minute.” John suddenly said.

“What’s going on?” Rachel asked, fear gripping her voice. I wanted this to be over but Elspeth showed no signs of doing so. There was something else driving her, something that was over-riding her awareness. Another growl shook us, followed by a frightened scream. Veronica tried to wrench her hand away but I held firm to it.

“Don’t! It would be disastrous now if you broke the circle. All our lives could be in danger. We don’t know what we’re dealing with!”

Another scream from the child stopped our deliberating; Elspeth tore her blouse open and shouted: “Come into me child; let me protect you!”

Too late, I realised what she intended to do and what was really going on; she shuddered and quaked, clutching at herself and almost collapsing to the floor before straightening up rigid, like a marionette. Now the growl came from within her.

“Elspeth, are you alright?”  Again, I was far too late to stop Veronica from moving towards her, breaking the circle.

We might have been safe had the circle remained unbroken…. Might.

What had been Elspeth whirled around and knocked Virginia flying. She landed in the corner with a sickening crack. She lay there unmoving. John ran over to check on her and just shook his head. “She’s dead… I can’t believe it… She’s.. dead! You killed her!”

He was about to launch himself at her but I quickly rugby tackled him before he had a chance to do so. I shouted for James to take the Rachel in to the other room; on no account was anyone to leave the house; too much was at stake now. Somehow we had allowed something to cross over; we had to do something, anything to send it back. I had no idea what that was, but my first thought was to get some distance between me and Elspeth.

I dragged John into the next room with me as he’d banged his head in the tackle. The thing that was Elspeth did nothing to stop us; it was getting acclimatised to its new environs. Besides, it knew that we could do nothing against it; it was feeding off our fears.

I shut the door between us and Elspeth. When I turned round an odd sight met my eyes; I saw the rest of the group standing around a lone man sitting on one of the chairs grinning.

“Well… this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into.” He said, crossing his legs. He wore a black leather jacket with its collar up, blue jeans and sneakers. His expression was one of amused cynicism which was exacerbated by his fuller face and glasses.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snapped. I’d finally reached my breaking point; I wanted to hit him; to take him apart.

“Wait, Michael… this is Alex Paige.” James said, stepping between me and the man. “I’ve heard of him; he’s a writer of occult horror novels; but he knows his stuff… he’s very well versed, and he lives around here.”

“And he just happens to be out on a midnight stroll?” I snapped back.

“I couldn’t sleep, mate. I could feel something was wrong so I just tracked back the feeling to here.” The great Alex Paige replied. “Boy, you have no idea what you’re doing or what you’ve stirred up, do you?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “We know the history of the place. We know what we’re dealing with.”

“The two have nothing in common with one another. Tell me what happened up here.”

So I told him of Elspeth and the young girl spirit and the other malevolent presence.

“And it never occurred to you that it was one and the same?” Alex interrupted.

“Only when it was too late.” I admitted.

“What about Elspeth, then? What’s her story?”

I didn’t know, but Rachel suddenly spoke. “She had a daughter who died when she was four years old; she drowned. That’s why Elspeth became a medium in the first place.”

“Did no one think to tell me this before now?” I snapped. No wonder everything had happened this way; Elspeth was an open wound waiting to be exploited, she never stood a chance!

“That’s not the issue now; the only thing you need to think about is how you’re going to deal with that in there.” Alex placated.

“And what do you propose we do about it?” John suddenly asked, he was just starting to get his bearings back; he was having a hard time understanding it all. Everything was spiralling out of control now.

“Luckily I came prepared.” Alex replied. “I always carry some salt and Holy water with me. (Don’t ask why) but before I go any further you have to remember two things. One: that is not your friend in there. Whatever it is, it’s simply wearing her skin now; it’s not her. Two: She needs to be dealt with. It’s not going to be nice but it will have to be done. You can either stay out of it or be there with me; but if you get in the way you will be treated as part of the problem. Are we all in agreement?”

“No!” John suddenly snapped back. “Who put you in command?”

“You all did when you started fucking around with things you don’t understand. Two of you are already dead, how large does the body count have to get before you sit up and take action? Look, I don’t need you in there but I thought you could man up and take some responsibility for the mess you caused. But if that’s the case then sit the fuck down and leave me to my business.”

“I’m sorry…” John said. “Elspeth… we..”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing else is important anymore; shutting that…thing down is the only thing that matters now. This is what we’re going to do: each of you should take a pocket full of salt; that will protect you from her. She won’t be able to attack you physically all the time you have salt on you. You must form the circle around her again; hold hands initially and while you have her contained I’ll draw another circle around you with Holy water, then it will be trapped.

“I’m going to perform an exorcism and whilst I’m doing this you need to take your dead friend away. You won’t have much time; don’t look back, whatever you do.”

We all nodded. Rachel was scared beyond belief but she took her portion of salt in her pocket and said. “All we need now is vinegar in the other pocket.”

“That’s good.” Alex replied. “Humour always helps.” He opened the door to the room where the thing was. “Ready?”

It was the cold smell of putrefaction that hit us upon entering the room and it was coming from her, who was standing exactly where we left her. She turned to face us and I thought I saw something overshadow her; an outline of the thing that had possessed her. Her face was contorted and warped into a mask of hatred. She snarled and lunged at us as we surrounded her. Alex was right though, she couldn’t touch us because of the salt we had in our pockets.

I closed my eyes and prayed to all the God’s I didn’t believe in to keep us all safe and apologised to the people that I had brought into this. I heard Alex walk around us intoning a blessing as he splashed the Holy water. As he finished he said Amen and then: “You’ve got to go now. No time for Good-byes; take your friend and leave. Run like fuck, don’t wait for me –I’ll be fine. Don’t look back; just go.”

I thanked him nonetheless and apologised, and took Veronica’s body with me. I walked down the stairs as quick as I could after James and Rachel. John was behind me, or so I thought.

It wasn’t until I was down on the street that I realised he wasn’t, but before I could go back into the house the bedroom was suddenly engulfed in flame.

I only know what happened because of what Alex told me afterwards: John hadn’t followed me; he still believed that Elspeth could be saved. Unbeknownst to me, he had had a relationship with her some years before and still carried a candle for her; loved her still, in fact. He had smelt petrol when Alex had been walking behind us and his fears had been realised when he walked back into the room we had left.

Alex had just lit a makeshift petrol bomb and was just about to throw it when John knocked him to the ground. Unfortunately the bottle went flying and smashed on the floorboards by Elspeth’s feet, splashing her with liquid fire. The screams must have been terrible but Alex could only look in horror as John tried to rescue her. Elspeth grabbed hold of him and engulfed him in the flames as well. Alex knew there was no way for them to escape the circle and realised that he only had seconds before he too was trapped. He barely made it. 

Two months later; I still have nightmares of the night: Elspeth, John and Veronica; dead because of me. I started this because I wanted to know what existed on the other side. Now I know and wish to God that I had stayed ignorant.