posted on Jun, 5 2008 @ 07:18 PM
The Dabbler dabbled and she tried out her new toy. Almost the first night there in the Cottage she dabbled. The object of her curiosity was - the
Ouija Board.( Oh Black Shuck I hear your howls for blood and for souls - for all good DABBLERS.) And so it started. Innocent fun for young teenage
students in our solitary Cottage.And so the madness started.
First they thought it was a prank. Maybe the Partygoer was having a laugh. Always when the Religious or Studious Ones were alone. The old heavy cast
iron and oak front door of the cottage would be opened. Never mind that it weighed a hundred-weight to move and creaked and groaned in the moving.
Shut and latched no wind could move it. Solid. Only every evening the door was discovered opened. The Studious One even locked the door but still
would find it ajar and the iron black key lying on the floor. Then the footsteps were heard. Yes, the footsteps could be heard coming from the door
and moving up the long corridor that intersected the cottage. Each of the girls rooms led of this corridor. Religious One prayed that the footsteps
would not stop at her door. She could see here breath clearly as the steps came closer and closer. Again and again this would happen. At last, one
night, unable to bear any more torment, she burst open her to face the interloper. Nothing. Nothing.
Religious One packed her things, and left the Cottage, not to return. Now there was Three. This made the remaining girls more uneasy. Especially as
there had been a recent murder in the area. They had no neighbours or phone or car. They were alone. There were accusations as to who the prankster
could be. The PartyGoer - a friend of my eldest Sister who related this story to me many years later - swore that she was not pulling a prank. After
yet another argument they all retired to their rooms for sleep or study. There was to be no sleep. More footsteps more noises - they all rushed out
into the corridor. The door again ajar and what they could perceive outside in the darkness a slowly retreating fog. The most courageous of them - who
herself was full of trepidation - hesitated towards the door.She strained her eyes out into the night and saw what she thought was a figure of a
creature moving away to the railway line gate. Shrouded in mist, bent over and huddled, the creature slowly dissolved and vanished. Trick of the
Now the girls were spooked. The house played tricks on them. Familiar objects would disappear and reappear in unusual places. The Studious One thought
she saw one of her books levitate and throw itself against a wall. Then it all stopped. It all stopped. No more footsteps. No more mists and
levitations and dematerializations. It all went quiet. the Partygoer thought she would find a new place to live. Even the excitement of the haunting
had now gone out of her life and Aylsham was too quiet for her. Now there was Two.
Only two was not enough. The girls did different shifts as nurses. That meant that they could find themselves alone in the Cottage and that was not
satisfactory. Too creepy. So they advertised for another companion. Our friends vowed not to tell any perspective guest about the haunting or the
Ouija Board. Why should they say anything? It had all stopped hadn't it? And so our new companion walked into the house and our two kept their guilty
secret hidden from her. Life carried on.
Then after three months the Studious One left. That left the Dabbler and the other girl - who we will call Judith. Now Judith and our Dabbler decided
to get out that Ouija Board again. Boredom I think. They asked it questions that the year before illicited no response. Except the response of
unnatural noises and mists that is! Only this time there was a direct response on the Board. The Board said that there was a NOW a contact. (Dear
reader my hair is starting to stand up with the re-telling of this part of the Story. Oh unhappy Story!) The Board said they were talking to Albert.
Albert lived in the house and he liked watching the trains. Trains were his joy and they were his passion. "Chuff chuff" he said as he played being
a train up and down and up and down the corridor of the Cottage. "Out of the door and down to the gate that overlooked the railway line". (The one
that so many years ago had been uprooted). The girls decided to talk to Albert. The strange footsteps returned. The girls even started to call out
"hello Albert is that you." Strange how they grew accustomed to their haunting.
The Dabbler confessed to Judith about the earlier visitations and I think there was friction between them because of the deception. Anyway they tried
to patch things up and decided - together - to research the history of the Cottage. To do this they visited their local resource Library and found an
old black and white photograph taken of the Cottage circa 1880. Outside was a bright shiny locomotive steaming past. Further research bore fruit of
the bitter kind. Yes once upon a time there had been a man who lived at the Cottage. His name was Albert and from all accounts he was a man considered
mentally retarded. A simpleton who was taken care of by an elderly relative even though Albert was in his forties. Albert loved trains and had the
misfortune one day to stray out on to the track only to be crushed under the wheels of a locomotive. Out of guilt for not keeping an eye on Albert,
his elderly relative committed suicide. This was achieved by strangulation, from one of the weeping willows, next to the house. The Vicar refused to
conduct the christian rights at the funeral. "His soul is dammed" he said. Those were unenlightened times dear reader when suicides were considered
fit for the fires of hell. Can you hear Black shuck howling now dear Reader?
Anyway with these disclosures the girls became even more agitated and enlisted the help of the local parish Priest to do an exorcism of the Cottage.
Whatever was in the house was not Albert. Could "it" have been the Suicide coming back to take vengeance on a member of the clergy? Confusion that
it was the one from 1880? We will never know. All I can say dear Reader is that the Priest barely managed to get out of the Cottage alive. Judith was
found wandering days later wandering the lonely country lanes. Sweet Judith was so disturbed that she was committed to an asylum where I'm told she
resided to the day of her death in 1984. The Dabbler dabbles no more I'm told and jumps in fear to every noise in the night. Even a dog barking will
make her weep and get down on her knees to beg for forgiveness. Did she hear the bark and growl of Black Shuck?
Hoped you liked my story.