Mind Games


As a part of the Mind Games section you will see a number of different styles of writing which I dabbled with in the past and present… enjoy…




                           There was a young lady named


                       Who loved to sit on the harbor

                               She lent over the side,

                               Went out with the tide,

                                And that was the end-

                                Of poor Barbara.




There was a young fellow named Tim,

Who at lessons was totally dim,

He couldn’t add up, or drink from a cup,

His mouth wouldn’t fit round the rim….


               There was a young man named Keith,

              Who had yellowy brown rotting teeth,

              As the dentist did drill,

              Keith wouldn’t sit still,

              Till he noticed he’d got new false teeth.





There was a young man named Andy,

Who just couldn’t stop eating candy,

For the more he did eat,

The Less people he’d meet

They were squashed to the floor-

By his twenty stone feet….




Hospital food is dry,

Cold crumbly apple pie,

No wonder so many people die.


The ward is hot,

You bubble away in a cauldron pot,

The thermometer reads thirty eight,

Your body feels like a dead, dead weight.


The doctor comes round with his stethoscope,

As you sit on the itchy bed, all you can do is hope,

When can I go home?

Today would be nice,

So as not to eat that hospital rice,


The faces change,

You feel depressed and strange,

You're out of luck,

So it's back to the same old hospital muck!


The hospital poem was written as a comedy sketch at N.H.S. Hospital food when I was at Harefield suffering with rejection at 10 years of age. (Continued poems below)


St Christopher Medal


              Age nine,

              A young boy in his white vest

              Swelling chest,

              Down for hospital tests.


              In the space of one night,

              He feels so bright,

              Too young to realize the fright

              But one decision and now he's alright.


              Now he can live his young life

              Without feeling restless,

              Kicking a football up and down the ward,

              No feeling breathless.


              But it’s thanks to one special girl

              I’ll give life another twirl,

              From his pocket,

              He produces a golden heart locket


              The St. Christopher medal

              His returned gift,

              With a simple message,

              With All my Heart.

              A bond forged forever strong,

              Unique, to last my whole life long.


              Then young Samantha died,

              O’ how I cried,

              With a burning pain so harsh to bare,

              Knowing you're  not there,

              But I remember her so well,

              In my heart she now does dwell,

              With me always…


This poem was written in 1989, simply remembering the events within my young life and trying to deal with Samantha’s tragic death at 11 years old….


Echo’s Of the Past


       As I walk life’s winding road,

       I often wonder what my future-

       May hold,

       But my thoughts are not of the

       Future, but of the past,

       Memories I have made to last.


       As I look from my window-

       All I see, Is an image of a child

       That once was me.

       Just the other day I walked the-

       Old school mile,

       And thought just a little while,

       Remembering when that was me,

       Now the image of a child is all I



       As Children play on the old

       School grounds,

       With happiness and joy,

       Those old school sounds,

       The clanging, clanging of the old

       Bronze bell,

       And the teacher’s voice,

       I remember it well,



But now amongst the school –

Yard din,

I walk on the outside,

Simply looking in.


Missing childhood that’s what I say

As I walk the grounds where once-

I did play,

Take a trip down to the old woodland base,

On Sankey’s grounds where once

We did embrace,

But now there’s times of change,

And friends long gone,

It’s an eerie strange.


Now growing older, yet more wise,

The child within me withers and dies,

And now I sit writing here,

To go back in time with a wishful


But I know that can never be,

As I remember the child that once was me,

All I have is echo’s of the past,

 Bitter sweet memories made to last.



                     This poem was written on the death of my childhood and verge of adult hood, thanks to the gift of life I was still able to enjoy a small part of my childhood. The poem was penned when I was thirteen years old.


Short Horror Stories...(PG)

The Coming of the Dead

The year was nineteen seventy-six, I was eleven going on twelve. I lived in Newton- le- Willows, a small town with a historical past, Supposedly it was the most haunted town around and well, being a kid as I was back then I couldn’t compare it to anywhere else.

 Ghosts and ghouls always went down a treat with the local gang, and myself It gave us something to talk about on rainy nights as we sat in our tree house, which collectively we all built.

 The gang consisted of three, Tim Hardy, the oldest of the three was the joker in the pack, he was one of those kids who could make you laugh at the most inappropriate time.

 His family were rather religious and in a way I felt sorry for the lad, as he was always been dragged off to church even though he didn’t care for it. I can remember on one time when he was famously caught by his over baring father and got a right hiding for his troubles. 

Pete Chadwell, he was the shy guy and having gone through what he had I couldn’t blame him. He was the kind of person who would take all life’s struggles in his stride and simply smile. Though as I said, I don’t know how he did. His mother was tragically killed in a car crash when he was eight, and his father who went off the rails took his own life through an overdose. 

Luke Samposon, he was the leader of our gang and my best friend, I’d known him for most of my life, like brothers some said, he was rather reserved with most people but at the time was going through hard times at school with the local bullies, but he was a great friend who I’ll remember with fond memories. 

Then, well, there’s myself, Andy, I don’t really know what to say, I guess I’ve always enjoyed writing but that’s obvious isn’t it? I’m telling you this story. Others used to say I was a dreamer, had my head in the clouds, well that’s what my teachers said anyway.


I can remember the night when our lives changed, the storm was the first thing, as black as hell and we headed into Tim’s house and overheard our elders talking about the old church.

Our ears pinned to the crack in the door, they spoke of an occult that worshipped on the grounds some hundred years back before the church was built, and was supposed to be haunted.

 All kids thought the church grounds were haunted, but it was an obvious thing to say, but as we continued listen Tim’s mother spoke of an old man who at that time had gone missing after visiting his wife’s grave.

 The fear that struck was true but also being kids we were eager for an adventure and not waiting for the end of the story we fled into the rain back to the tree house our hearts pounding with both fear and excitement.


“What a story” Tim said, still trying to catch our breath we replied with astonishment “Yeah”.

Tim stood swiftly and we all knew what he was about to say.

“Why not go to the old church” he said heading for the ladder.

“What in this”? we all replied.

“No” Tim said, “On Halloween, lets go on Halloween, hey, we might even find the old man” he said the shear excitement overwhelming him.

 We glanced over at Pete, and after a slight icy moment he replied

“Yeah okay let’s go”.

 I was quite surprised knowing his past, but didn’t say anything, and so it was decided as our elders called us down, we left for home wondering of the adventure that lay ahead.


I was awoke suddenly by the loud drown of my alarm clock, sitting up slowly my eyes trying to focus I glanced at the clock. Seven forty five, another school day, at least it was Friday the last day before Halloween so I was quite cheerful as a pulled on my trousers, then sitting at the table eating a soggy piece of cold toast.

 I soon set out with Luke talking of the plan ahead. I must admit this Halloween was going to be different, if only we knew then what was in store.

Most Halloween activities involved the odd ghost story and as usual the familiar cry of trick or treat.

 As the day drew on we sat on the school field eating our lunch and trading football stickers as we often did.

“So it’s all arranged then,” Luke said.

We all nodded in agreement.

“Hey Tim, do you think your parents will allow you to go?” I said.

“Yeah sure” he replied.

Suddenly Pete replied “You could always tell you’re folks your going for extra church sessions, which in a manner of speaking you are”. Both Luke and myself sniggered but Tim who was usually the joker snapped

“That wasn’t funny you idiot” then at a pase lunged for a stunned Pete.

Quickly grasping a frustrated Tim I tried to resolve the situation.

“Calm yourself, it was only a joke” I said hoping that would break the tension.

“Well it wasn’t funny” Tim now calmer, replied.

 There remained a little unrest after that but eventually we resolved our differences as kids often do.


As the final bell sounded for the end of a long school day we all left feeling glad Halloween would soon be upon us.

It’s strange as a kid, I always thought Halloween was make believe, you know, bobbing for apples and parties. Yes there were some kids who tried to scare you but that was all part of the fun, I guess I didn’t understand.


Reaching the front door of my house, “So Luke, what are you going as this year?

“Lucifer costume, my mum’s got some face paint and stuff, it’ll look great, anyway, what are you going as?”

“My ghoul costume”,

Luke sniggered “What, that old thing, white sheet two holes?”

“Well you know what they say, old classics never die,” I said before closing the door.


Halloween was at last upon us and as I got up I collected my what I needed

Torch, the old rag, my ghoul costume.

  As it was morning and nothing ever happened on Halloween morn, we met at Tim’s tree house as usual.

Both Luke and Pete had yet to arrive so I sat alone with Tim talking kids talk before Luke finally arrived.

“Where’s Pete?” Tim asked.

“He’s gone to the church I think” Luke replied.

“And what about us?”

“Give him a break Tim, are you forgetting his father died this month, it’s his anniversary, his dad might have been a bastard but he has the right to pay his respects.” Luke said.

Tim placed his hands up “forget it, we’ll meet back here at seven thirty, agreed?”

We both nodded and then set off for home, the nerves beginning to jangle inside.

As the sunset I closed the front door and set out to the tree house.

When I arrived Tim and Luke were already waiting and it was a surprise not to find Pete with them.

“Where’s Pete” I asked.

“Dun no” I haven’t seen him since morning” Luke replied.

Tim frustrated replied “We’ll wait a while and if he’s not here we’ll set off”.

“No, we’ll wait till he arrives” we both said.

“ Oh and how longs that going to take, I’ve only got till nine thirty and it’s seven thirty now” Tim getting more flustered replied.

  Reluctantly after waiting we set off towards the church.

We walked slowly past Pete’s foster family home and noticed two police cars in the driveway.

The fear suddenly hit, I can remember the way Tim looked,

“ You don’t think?”

“No” I replied before he could finish the sentence.

  I was trying hard not to think that maybe the stories we’d heard were true, as we walked down the gravel path towards the church our hearts were pounding, Tim quickly placed his hand on my shoulder and not expecting it I jumped.

I turned swiftly towards Tim, already feeling nervous I just didn’t need it, though looking back now that’s what we loved about him.

  Walking slowly down the gravel path the church was in sight, the wind began to pick up as we stood staring at the iron gates before us.

I shuddered as Tim pushed the gate, each hinge screamed like a demon in the night and as he entered the churchyard both Luke and myself walked with a skip in our step “Wait up” we shouted.

 As Tim branded the torch I noticed something lying on the ground.

We all ran with fear towards what looked like clothing. At closer inspection my heart sank, as Pete’s parker jacket lay mudded on the floor.


“Shit, It’s Pete’s jacket,” I said with a fearful quiver in my voice.

We all stood in shock when Tim noticed a strange glow coming from inside the church.

“What’s that” he replied and before we could stop him he headed towards the windows and we followed. It was hard to see through stained glass windows so again eager to know what was happening Tim fled towards the church entrance and ever so slowly opened the doors.

Our hearts were beating at a frantic pase as Tim shone the torch inside.

   There was some sort of gathering, ritual; we didn’t quite know what was happening.

  Masses of people all wearing cold, dark cloaks, each with pendants in their hands, which they swung slowly from side to side, giving off the unpleasant stench of rotten eggs.


The fearful silence was suddenly broken as Luke gave out a chilling gasp that thankfully only we could hear.

“Luke what is it, what is it” we whispered fearfully.

Luke now trembling pointed franticly.


As we looked on our eyes began to fill as Pete was led like a prisoner by the cloaked mass.

Tim quickly pushed the doors wide enough for us to fit through, and like mice we dashed inside as the ritual was to begin.


The lights dimmed and a strange chant filled the air as a huge crucifix was lead down to the alter. The worshippers now linked hand in hand waited, before one spoke in a dark commanding voice.

“Welcome worshippers of the one, the time has come for the offering” the man bellowed.

Suddenly Pete was grasped.

“Let go, let go of me” he cried as he tried to break free.

I knew we had to do something, anything, a diversion, but as Tim held me back we watched on as a half naked Pete was lifted towards the crucifix still struggling, still fighting.

  “We’ve got to do something” I said pulling on Luke’s arm, but I got no response we were all faced with a unthinkable evil.

As we watched on, our eyes transfixed, the beasts took what looked like large nails and ever so slowly began twisting, twisting them into Pete’s wrists.

The screams were unbearable and our hearts sank, eyes bleached with tears as the cold, dark oozing blood flowed down dripping to the floor. 

  We couldn’t breathe the shock to grim to take, Pete now at death’s door finally gave in when the cold calculated man cut deep into Pete’s chest and reaching inside ripped out his heart and held it aloft squeezing it in his hand.

 The chanting gathered pace faster, faster, as the devastating ritual came to it’s deathly climax, each carrying small cups we watched as they collected the falling blood thus drinking it like vampires.

 Luke yelled out suddenly and the chanting stopped leaving a cold chill in the air as the worshipers glanced upon their next victims.

We fled as quickly as we could, fearful and grief stricken we headed back towards the churchyard gates but were stopped in our tracks as the gates had been bolted shut.

With our backs pressed firmly towards the gates shear terror in our hearts we realised we were trapped.


 The church doors opened and we held our breath as the worshipers approached. Luke rattled the gates back and forth franticly but it was no use they wouldn’t budge.

  The eerie chanting now got louder, faster, as they approached closing in on their victims.

 Tim managed to free himself from the grip of fear yelling “run, run, quick, quick”. Those words seemed to wake us from our slumber and I swear I don’t think I’d ever run as fast. In the distance we could hear the worshipers shouting as they gave chase.

“Get them, get them, do not let them escape”.

Still running, our heads pumping with perspiration trying to escape we were rocked on our heels as lightning struck the church steeple with an almighty crash filling the cold air with the uncontrollable clanging of the bells.

“Quick into the cemetery” Luke yelled each word being squeezed slowly from his mouth as we began to tire.

 Eventually we were able to gain some brief rest bite and I emphasise brief, as all three of us cowered behind a large angel tombstone as the worshipers combed the land.

“We have to make it to the swamp?” I said

The Newton swamp ‘Woggie’ was another one of our haunts, we used to collect frog’s spawn and there we thought we’d be safer.


No longer had we just caught our breath when Luke gave out a fearful gasp, the worshipers were almost upon us.

Quickly, our costumes saturated and muddy, the sky filled with light we made a hoped to make the dash.

  The lightning now much more intense and daunting startled Luke,

Who was now trembling, wouldn’t move.

“GO ON, GO ON, WE’RE NOT LEAVING YOU BEHIND,” I yelled as Tim and myself grasped him before fleeing.


We watched on as the chants began once more, the leader reading from script, suddenly there was an almighty crash.

“What now” I thought wondering if we’d ever escape.

Suddenly the tombstones around us began to crack wide open, Luke and myself fled but were stopped quickly when we realised Tim wasn’t following.

“ COME ON, this is no time for jokes,” we yelled not realising what was happening. Suddenly the air was filled with terrified screams.

“HELP ME, HELP ME,” Tim yelled his eyes bursting with tears.

Still confused Luke grasped the torch and pointed it in Tim’s direction.

“SHIT…” we couldn’t believe what we we’re seeing, a stench of urine filled the air. “ZOMBIE”

Luke and myself tried hard to pull Tim free but he was constantly being dragged down, the screams becoming muffled as the creature surfaced.

Dripping with dark oozing mud, and bug infested we watched as the living dead took one huge bite from Tim's  throat, the flesh making a light popping sound as the skin was ripped slowly away.

 Luke quickly grabbed my arm, I stumbled but quickly got to my feet and we fled into the darkness. The worshipers had unleashed an uncontrollable evil upon this little town.


As we ran faster all around us yet more tombs began to crack revealing flesh eating zombies hell bent on destruction.

 Luke was really beginning to tire “I can’t run anymore” he cried

I ignored his plea “Just keep going, we’re almost there” I gasped,

Praying, hoping we would make it as the zombies closed in.


                                        Hells Fury.

The coming of the dead was in full force as all around us yet more zombies burst up from the sodden ground.

Luke yelled out suddenly and turning swiftly, Luke was confronted; I quickly threw my mudded costume over the frustrated zombie and fled whilst it franticly tried to remove the sheet.

“Keep going, keep going,” I yelled as the burning in our chests became almost too much to bear.

All around we tried hard to avoid the slimy arms grasping at our feet; finally we reached the swamp diving over the surrounding wall and landing with a thud. The pain was taken away by the shear fright and we headed for the swamp.

“WE’RE FREE, WE’RE FREE” Luke yelled with tearful joy in his voice, but as we were soon to discover we were in for a rude awakening.


Luke’s smile quickly soured as we looked on in defeat, the worshipers surrounded the swamp like wild Indians, Luke placed his head on my shoulder and broke.

“I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,” he sobbed.

I scanned the area quickly trying to find escape, there was only one disgusting option left. I tried hard to calm Luke as the worshippers looked on with an icy glare.

“Luke we’re going to have to swim across” I said not relishing the idea.

We both looked at each other and holding our breath we jumped.


The slimy water was slick and sticky; God only knows what was in there, as we struggled to swim across.

“Do not let them escape” the worshipers yelled as they waded in after us.

   Suddenly I was grasped by one of the worshipers, in fear I tried hard to fight him off but it was no use. I closed my eyes and prayed for a quick death as he drew back his blade.


Trembling I watched on as Luke grasped a slimed piece of wood and with all his might smashed it across the head of the beast. I was quickly released and watched trying to catch my breath as the body sank ever so slowly into the slime. “Thanks” I said still choking on the slime that had found it’s way into my mouth, not to mention the stench that came from my head, I swear we could have been zombies ourselves.


We finally managed to climb out of the swamp, “Lets get out of here” I said and we fled finally leaving the grounds of the church.

 Walking the streets left a cold chill in our spines and my heart sank when we approached Bradlegh Road were as kids we grew up.

  The whole estate seemed quiet and deathly just a cold layer of mist swept across the roads.


As we approached Luke petrified ran towards his house, I tried hard to keep up with him my legs now like led.

Luke franticly placed the key in the door and at the third attempt pushed open the door and slowly we crept in.

“Hello… Mum… Dad” Luke yelled but we were greeted by silence, the light bulb exploded with a pop leaving the house in darkness.

 As we approached the main living room we froze, strange chants could be heard coming from inside and we both feared the worst.

“Mum… dad” Luke repeated quickly opening the door.

 Worshipers welcomed us both Luke’s parents were tied up as we were grasped from behind.

A tall man approached us, kneeling he removed his mask and we both screamed in chorus. His face was crooked, deformed and his teeth were jagged like a vampire.

Smiling he replied in a cold voice “welcome child” his deathly hands stroking Luke’s face.

Swiftly he drew back his blade and approached Luke’s father and in one swift movement slashed his throat, the screaming flesh split wide open.

The room was filled with the gargling, choking splutters as he tried to stem the flow of crimson red each breath becoming shallower and shallower before he collapsed in a puddle of screaming blood.

 Both trembling we watched on as the deformed man approached us once more wielding his blade dripping with innocent blood.

Kneeling he grasped my bottom jaw, squeezing it tight as he glared in my fearful eyes, I knew soon the nightmare would soon be at an end as his blade point stroked my face, I held my breath and closed my eyes.


His attention was again diverted back towards a tired Luke and as I slowly opened my eyes I watched as the man spoke once more.

“Now for the true sacrifice” he laughed approaching Luke’s grief stricken mother stalking her like a lion closing in on its prey.

The desperate pleas of Luke’s mother could not save her as the evil man lifted her shirt exposing her flesh and again with one swift movement split her wide open gutting her like a fish as her intestines spilled.


Finally finding the strength we broke free from our abductors, or maybe it was that they let us go, we didn’t care and made like the wind, out of the door, out of the house.

 The streets as we discovered were no safe place to be as like an army the zombies approached from every direction, the streets were complete chaos

 as yet more frightened, helpless victims, children, friends we knew, were attacked by the living dead feasting on their flesh.

 Some tried helplessly to escape in cars but were overpowered.

 There seemed no escape; only the deathly houses were safer than the streets and knowing the risk we both fled into the first house we could find.

 Slamming the door behind us Luke screamed, I turned sharply to discover hanging in front of us an old man with his face shredded, his skin wincing revealing cold bone.

 The fear again stuck as trying not to breathe so loud we watched as the zombies who now were beginning to feast on the worshippers approached.

 Walking into a certain death we barricaded the door and fled up the stairs, the house was again eerie, cold and dark.


As we climbed the stairs we were greeted by the stench of death, the hallway covered in a sickly mass of fly’s I tried hard to clear my vision as Luke held on to my arm.

It was getting harder to breathe as we walked the landing. There was a small box room and I tried hard to reach it.

 Walking in both Luke and myself heaved and to our grim discovery found a young new born covered with a flow of maggots and flies.

It’s jugular ripped from it’s throat, we knew the zombies had paid a grim visit and it made me wonder whether maybe, somewhere, the zombies still lurked ready to pounce.


There was a sudden thudding coming from behind us, Luke turned slowly and walked out onto the landing, I followed swiftly but was shocked as a worshiper sprung from behind grasping Luke and planting an axe into his skull.

“NO…” I screamed as the spray of blood caught me square in the face covering me. Quickly I fled back into the box room knowing the window was my only option, but as I looked below two zombies were attempting to get in, their chilling groan filling the air.

 There was no escape and to make matters worse the axe wilding worshiper confronted me.

Grasping at anything I took a broken spindle from the infants cot and held it aloft.

Swiftly the man lunged at me, I avoided the axe as it crashed with might into the cot, I tried hard to fight as the man took yet another swipe smashing the window. This was the break I was looking for as for a brief moment in frustration, he tried to dislodge his axe which was imp ailed into the window frame. I quickly moved behind him avoiding his free hand as he tried to grasp hold of me. With all my might I stuck the spindle across his back and watched in relief as he stumbled and fell from the window on to the ground below. Rushing to the window I watched as zombies fed the demon man. One zombie however was transfixed onto me his rotting eyes glaring with menace, his drooling jaws waiting to feed.

 Not having an option left I fled past Luke’s limp body and again found myself running onto the streets.


The place was now devoid of human life, just the remains of victims, even the worshippers had become prey, As I scanned around I could see the army of the un-dead approaching, I fled but now in a trance like state I tripped over some half eaten kid slapping my face on the blooded concrete road.

Tired and weak I couldn’t move I curled up defeated and waited as the zombies approached.

Surrounded, I could hardly feel the pain as they began feasting, biting hard into my arms and legs slowly tearing away the flesh.

Screaming in a last plea for help I hoped that some one, anyone would hear, but my air was slowly been cut off, my vision a blur, the sounds slowly fading away, was this death?


Suddenly there were two loud shots that filled the air. As I began to stir I focused on flashing lights and a man, an officer holding a shotgun.

“Get away, get away from him,” he cried continuing to fire the weapon.

 The zombies headed towards the police officer as I tried hard to gather my senses.

“Run, run, run, get out of here” the policeman yelled.

Staggering to my feet I thought maybe this was my saviour. The officer continued to fire but the zombies kept coming and I watched as suddenly he was grasped from behind, with one sharp snap his head was twisted, his neck broken, he collapsed to the floor the last shot echoing into silence as the gun fell.

 I yelled out in frustration as the zombies again approached when suddenly a huge lightning bolt ripped the night sky, followed by a blinding white light which stopped the zombies in their tracks.

Confused my attention was diverted as the town hall clock chimed twelve, November the first.


To my amazement I watched as like solders the zombies turned away and slowly began to walk, Curious I followed them and was shocked as they returned to the local church.

There was a sudden deafening clap of thunder followed by another blinding flash of light.

I placed my head in my hands and waited until the eerie silence fell once more.

 As I approached the graveyard from which this nightmare had begun not one stone was broken, not one zombie or worshiper in site.

Was this all a living nightmare I thought, as I stood alone the wind howling around me?

 Perhaps I’d wake to a drenched pillow, and I’d meet the guys again?

I bit hard into my hand and the painful sensation proved one thing, this was no dream.

 Breathing heavy, I began the journey towards Earlstown, a small local town, as I headed towards the town centre I was grasped.

Screaming I swiftly turned. Two arms were placed around me and voice echoed the words I’d been longing to hear.

“You’re safe, you’re safe, it’s all over.” Tired I glanced up and lunged into the police officer’s arms sobbing.



The next thing I can remember was waking to the birds’ chorus then the sun beaming through a small cell window almost blinding me.

The door in front of me opened and I was led out of the cell by two police officers. Sipping a cup of tea it soon dawned on me that my life was now forever changed as the national TV. News reporters swamped this small historical town.



One hundred and twelve people were killed in that one night of madness, the counseling sessions went on for three years after and I guess you can never really recover from the experience.

It’s only now that I’ve told of my experience that maybe others can be spared.

 So this goes out to all who live in the little town of Newton le Willows,

Parents, children alike please, please, whatever you do, do not roam amongst the headstones, especially on Halloween night, but if you should,

If you’re daring, remember, remember one thing, evil never dies.


                                       The End?  




                             Part 1: Ghost Hunters.

From the start of my teens I was always fascinated with the supernatural so much so that at the age of sixteen I’d joined an organisation that specialised in the paranormal and the search for ghosts.

 We visited many places such as old mansions, gravesites always searching for that first shred of evidence, my first ghost.

As it turned out nothing seemed to appear when the ghost hunters were on the case.

 Most of my friends were as expected skeptical “You’ve been watching to many horror films” they’d joke referring to the huge collection of horror videos I had.

 I of course took their taunts in my stride after all you have to see a ghost before you can truly believe.


One of the biggest mysteries of mine was that of the Quija board.

Was this just a game? Was there a sinister force behind them, or was it just a trick of the imagination?

  Imagination was all I could use at the time as the boards were banned in the UK after a seventies film “The Exorcist”(the terrifying story of a young girl possessed by a demon) was released. Fortunately in nineteen ninety-nine the film was finally released, and having watched it wondered what all the fuss was about.

I at first thought the game took the backlash of the film; people saw the film and of course jumped on the van wagon claiming these boards were evil.


It all started in ninety-six. I along with along with four members of a magazine called Ghost Hunters were preparing an article about a poltergeist that had shook up a family in Enfield, you may have read about it?

The magazine was indeed a smash so much so that we advanced and created our own website www.ghosthunters.com. 

Thousands of fanatics would log on, the web consisted of reports on haunting, and the odd horror story written by myself, I just never thought I’d be writing the story of my experience.


At the time I was determined to find a Quija board and we’d often leave messages asking for reports on the game and advertisements in the hope some one would answer,

 The group consisted of three great friends of mine, the first was

Tony Jeffers, the magic man, into the weird and wonderful, the next “David Blaine” or at least that’s what we thought.

He was the old general and had been at Oxford longer than any of us. Psychology was his study interest and he was great to be around even though his attitude towards his work smothered his social life.


Jack Cunningham, I swear he was the craziest person I’d ever known, so confidant, flamboyant very witty. Jack like myself was a writer with one difference; he was the budding journalist, whereas I was more of a novelist.


Next there was Mike, Michael Harper, he was indeed the skeptic and didn’t really believe in the supernatural in fact he didn’t believe at all he was an atheist and his belief was simple we’re put on this earth to live, then we die and others take our place.

 On a brighter note he was a great artist and helped out with the illustrations for the magazine, he was also a wiz with computers and helped out there as well.

 We left the library and were in a buoyant mood. It was July and it wouldn’t be long before we had the summer to ourselves in our hometown of Newton-le-Willows, a small but historical place we called home.

 After sweating our guts out regarding exams the day had finally arrived when we would leave our university lodges and return home after a long hard year, little did we know that this summer would be a desperate one.

 After spending time with our respective families the first few weeks were spent letting our hair down, we often visited our local pub “The Wargrave Inn” Were we would spend our time talking pointless chatter and getting as drunk as possible, well don’t all students?

 “Well, what are we going to do with all this time?” asked Jack

Tony soon chipped in “I may try and catch up with my new book “The Users Guide To Modern Magic, I’m wouldn’t mind a book on Black Magic either….

“Well you could always go to the library” replied Jack.

Tony laughed, “Yeah good one Jack I can just see myself going to the library and asking for a book on black magic, they’d have me committed, though seriously, there’s a bookstore in Southport that sells em”.

“What about you Andy?” asked Mike.

At the time I wasn’t quite sure, there was a new film on at the cinema and before I could get the words out of my mouth my friends replied in a sarcastic chorus.

“Let us guess, eh, it’s a horror film?

I smiled, my friends knew me only to well.

“ Go on then, what’s it about this time?”

I replied “ The films called Jack….”

“Wow famous at last” Jack interrupted.

“ Yes, it’s all about you, you are horrifying after all…. No it’s called Jack and is based around the story of an author who writes a children’s horror tale about an evil goblin, it turns out the character is brought to life and well, I guess you know the rest.”

 “He goes on a murderous rampage killing all” Jack replied.

“Got it in one, though it really does look good”.

“It isn’t by Stephen King is it?”

No it’s a first time author by the name of James Hanley, but it’s directed by “John Carpenter.”


“Who?” Mike replied, he wasn’t really into horror; comedies and slapstick films were his thing.

“JOHN CARPENTER” we said sarcastically.

“Oh sorry… didn’t he direct the “Halloween” movies?”

“Yes..” I replied with a sighing tone.

“Why don’t we all go” I said,

“No sorry Andy I can’t…. got to finish my book.”

“ Oh hell Tony, you can finish that book anytime, come on, live a little”.

After much persuasion Tony agreed…

“Well who’s driving then…”

“ I’ll do it” Mike said swiftly, as to avoid another pointless debate.


We finally headed away from the local pub and onto Michael’s home to check the guest book on our website.

(From Screen)


Dear Ed’s

I enjoyed the report on the Enfield Haunting and the horror stories Mirrors and Demon Soul… PLEASE WRITE MORE (David Ohio U.S.A)

“Well, looks like another satisfied fan, hey, look there’s a post from Maine”.


I read your recent request in your search for a Quija board, well I have some great news, please email your details to me and I’ll gladly send you one…. (Chris, Maine U.S.A)


My heart began to pound with excitement, so much so I had to read the post again just to make believe what I was reading.

“I’m not sure about this” Michael replied.

“I thought you didn’t believe in anything, what does it matter to you” I said in a stern voice.

Michael gave a rye smile…

 We wrote a swift email, when finished we paused for a second… then clicked the send icon.

“ Well that’s it…. It’s done now.” I said, my heart slowly getting back to a normal rhythm.

“ Are sure you’ve done the right thing” Michael replied nervously.

“ Hey, I thought you said you didn’t believe, why so nervous… look it’s only a game.” I said with a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

“ Come on… we’ll be late…” the others replied.


We set off towards UCI cinema in Warrington, collected popcorn and sat for one hour and twenty minutes, the usual length for a horror movie leaving with the usual reviews.

“Well I loved it, great tension, gruesome killings”.

Both Tony and Jack agreed, but Michael was less keen.

“ I thought it was the same as any other horror film, devoid of a decent plot, endless killings and a predictable ending, I mean, come on, when the front cover of the book was blank, it’s obvious there’s going to be a sequel”

“ Yeah and knowing John Carpenter, they’ll be about six” Laughed Jack,

“ Just look at the Halloween franchise.”


We continued to discuss the film on our journey home; my mind though was now fixed on the Quija board wondering if the email we received was genuine…

Little did we realise what effect this one gift would have on us…



Part 2: The Gift.

The following morning we replied to the email left by Chris who by coincidence lived in the same place as my most admired author “Stephen King”.

It indeed was a bargain, five dollars, at the time I never cared to wonder why he was selling it so cheap, all I knew was I had to have it….

Still Michael was very skeptical…

“ Oh come on guys, you don’t honestly believe anything will happen, I mean come on, contacting the dead, freeing demons from your subconscious or wherever? Give me a break.”

“ I hope you’re right, we’re just curious… that’s all.”

Michael seemed to have the bit between his teeth and being an atheist continued the argument.

“ I can never understand religion, I mean all this jumped up tripe about heaven and hell, we live just to exist, we die, and evolution replaces us…. If I squashed a fly, do you honestly think that has a soul and goes to heaven.”?

 We quickly rounded on Michael.

“ OK, enough, those are your beliefs and you’re welcome to them”

“ Chill guys… I was only….joking” his smile fading away, just like the hours of the day…


The date was the third of August when I was awoke by knocking on my front door. I quickly stirred got out of bed and headed towards the stairs as the knocking continued.

“ Hang on, hang on” I said.

As I finally reached the front door, I opened it to find the postman standing with a brown parcel.

“ Package for Andrew Jenkins?”

“ Yes, that’s me… thank you”

I said as I signed for the package, then slowly closing the door I realised what I held in my hands.

I glanced down at the white tag, which read:


“To the ghost hunters, Here’s the board you requested, enjoy, continue with those great stories… your number one fan… Chris


I chuckled to myself as I headed back up the stairs, I was wide awake now and as I made my bed I was tempted to rip open the parcel, my heart was missing beats with anxiety though I knew the guys would want to be there with me.


After breakfast I set off with the gift in my hand towards Earlstown station, this little station was infact the first railway station to be built in the whole world and Jack lived back to back with history.

 I knocked hard and fast upon the door and before Jack could even open the door I was already talking…

“ This is it, this is it”. I said thrusting the parcel into his hands.

“ Your serious?”


“ Deadly, take a look at the label… go on… go on” I said like a child receiving his number one toy.

“Hmm I wonder if it really works?” Jack asked.

I was calmer now…

“ Dun no, there’s only one way to find out.

 Like Children we swiftly set out to meet up with Tony who like Jack lived in a historical Place, Castle Hill.

There were plenty of towns folk stories regarding this place, the lady of the lake was a big story, supposedly a young woman was taken onto Newton Lake by her husband, were he then drowned her, the story goes that at twelve midnight she can be seen roaming the woodlands searching for her husband to seek revenge…

 Sounds far fetched I know, though it always scared me when I was a child.

 After showing the parcel to Tony we soon met up with Michael, the ghost hunters were united and we were left with the question whether it would work.


We decided to take the board back to Michael’s house as this is were our Ghost Hunter HQ was set up.

Michael continued his sniping attacks as we all sat staring at the parcel.

I took a deep breath and slowly ripped the parcel revealing a black box, which read “QUIJA…. IT’S JUST A GAME…OR IS IT?  In bold red letters.

Michael gave out a childish ghoulish groan.

“QUIET…Keep your views to yourself” we groaned.

“Sorry” Michael replied.

 I opened the box and peered inside slowly lifting the flat beige wooden board out and placing it in front of us. Nervously we glanced down upon it.

Huge bold black letters spelling the alphabet, Good and Evil supposedly to indicate the will of the so called spirit, Yes/No… and a triangular counter.

“ Well who’s going to try it then” Michael asked.

“ The objective of the game is for us all to try it” I replied…


So there we sat all four of us slowly placing our hands nervously on the counter.

“Well who’s going to ask first?” said Tony.

“ I will,” said Michael the smirk on his face was almost blinding.

“ Is there anybody there?”… he said in a comic like voice.

   We began to slowly push the counter waiting for the slightest indication of any force. Michael quickly released his fingers from the counter.

“ There, told you, nothing…. It’s all a trick”….


We tried for days to get any response from the board, but still nothing.

“ Looks like you were right Mike” I said feeling a little disappointed, I was beginning to believe perhaps it was all a trick and the board got the backlash from the Exorcist film as part of a spin exercise to increase the films effect.

Still I wasn’t about to give up yet, I’d read so many reports, so many people saying they shouldn’t be messed with, though at the time we were young and foolish, if only I’d listened.

“ Perhaps we can try again later,” said Tony like myself disappointed.


We sat eating lunch when Jack again placed his hand on the counter and said in a joyful comic tone.

“ Is there anybody there Sydney” making a mockery of an 1980’s toffee crisp advert.

All three of us laughed aloud, but suddenly the counter swiftly moved towards yes…

“ Come on Jack don’t joke, you pushed it didn’t you,” we said still laughing knowing this was the sort of prank Jack would pull.

“ I’m serious, I didn’t”… Jack said his smile now replaced with doubt.

“ Ok do it again” Michael said, none of us taking Jack seriously.

Jack repeated his question though this time the counter did not budge.

“ Great joke mate….”

“ I’m telling you I didn’t push it” he replied in a rattled tone.

Again Jack placed his hand on the counter and repeated his question once more.

We looked on in shear disbelief as the counter slid across landing on yes.

We were no longer smiling and sat to attention.

“ Go on, ask another question,” we whispered.

“ Who, who are you?” Jack asked with a slight quiver in his voice.

The counter again slowly began to move finally spelling out the name


“Where are you from?”

Again the counter moved to spell out Burtonwood.


Burtonwood was another historical place as it’s airbase was used in the Second World War were American soldiers were based.

As we continued to ask her questions we discovered that in her younger days Heather would haunt a local Newton school by the name of St Aelreds now, a technology college, and my former school. It turned out she used to watch the boys in the showers after sports.

 We indeed got a great laugh out of that just imagining…

Indeed this particular spirit seemed to be quite a character, though despite this still doubts remained, was there an actual spirit or was this just our imagination or our minds reviving lost memories?

We finally gave up for the day with so many questions still burning in our heads, this would make for an interesting report on our web page though as we would soon discover things would swiftly turn sour.


The following day we as usual returned to HQ having written up a brief report of our early findings, Jack and myself had also decided to try and write a horror story together, as we waited for Michael’s parents to return from work.

 I can always remember that day and the time, it was six thirty and Michael was frustrated at the fact his parents had still not arrived.

“ They should have been in at five thirty.” He groaned pacing like a frustrated circus animal.


There was a sudden loud banging on the front door; we stopped as Michael rushed towards the door. As he opened the door two police officers stood before him.

“What can I do for you officers?” he said with concern.

“May we step inside” the officers replied and with that Michael showed them in.

“ Michael Harper?”

“ Yes” replied Michael his nerves taking over.

 We knew something had happened and we waited fearing the worst.

“I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”


As soon as those words were spoken Michael’s world would come crashing down, the officers continued to explain that both his mother and father had been tragically killed in a road accident.

 Michael as you might well imagine was shell shocked and vomited on the floor, trying to comprehend the shear impact of the news.


As time drew out we tried our best to comfort him but he was completely grief stricken, on many occasions he would sit in utter silence in a trance like state glaring at the family photos on the walls…

 The funerals soon came and went and that’s when it all began, Michael was a shadow of his former self he had abandoned the web site and spent most of his time sat in the local cemetery sitting at the side of his parents headstones….



Part 3: Obsession


We were concerned for Michael who was never a heavy drinker though now he seemed to be losing control.

We did our best to comfort him but we would often find him in our local pub drinking his sorrow away.

“ You have to stop this, it’s doing you harm” said Jack trying to pull Michael away from the bar.

“ Leave me alone” he slurred.

Jack tried to take away the half pint of larger though Michael swiftly took hold of the glass throwing it over a stunned Jack.

“ Leave me alone” he repeated..


Eventually all four of us grasped hold of Michael and struggled to get him out of the pub and back to his house.

We soon discovered the house was not in the best of state, worst it was wreck, beer cans, un washed cutlery and worst things I couldn’t even describe, the smell, boy, that was unbearable though having struggled up the stairs we finally got a half unconscious Michael to his bed then set about cleaning the house.


It was around a week later when the strangest thing happened,

Tony, Jack and myself had set out to visit Michael as we often did when a much brighter, clean-shaven Michael greeted us.

He seemed far happier than we’d seen him, we found it strange how one could go from being so sad to being so cheerful we all realised this was obviously a front, it had to be, though to our surprise he had even started work on the website again.


Looking back now we were so foolish but started our investigation on the Quija board, It was only when we began our latest session that things would change not just for Michael, but for all of us.


We sat once again with our fingers placed on the triangular counter, again we asked if anyone was present but like before the counter did not move, Tony became frustrated removing his hand…

“ Oh come on guys this is stupid, it was obviously a trick of our imagination” he said.

“Be quiet Tony” Michael replied before asking the question. We were surprised as he was the atheist here.

Suddenly the counter swiftly moved towards yes, our hearts again were pounding with excitement and fear.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The board spelt out the name JOHN.

We swiftly released our fingers and looked at each other in disbelief.

Michael grasped the counter.

“What’s your full name?” he replied with a quiver in his voice.

Again the counter moved chillingly across the board to spell the surname we feared HARPER.

We quickly warned Michael of the danger, though he didn’t acknowledge us and continued on.

“Dad, is that you?” he muttered, a small tear trickled down his face.

The board again spelled the word yes.

“ Michael stop, be careful, this is a trick.” Jack replied.

“ Be careful of what,” Michael snapped….

It’s clear that Michael who at one time didn’t believe seemed somewhat comforted by the words from beyond, he was so blinded by grief that he refused to listen to our warning.


Our concerns became more apparent as Michael seemed to be spending more and more time playing the board.

We tried ourselves to ask basic questions as we did before though whoever was in the beyond only responded to Michael and I began to think that perhaps this was a trick produced by shear group hypnosis and the will to believe.

It was only a few days later when true reality would set in.


Arriving early at head quarters still feeling tired from the weeks events we hoped to finish our report on Poltergeist Paradoxes: reporting on whether poltergeists actually did exist or again was it down to the human mind?

 Soon however we discovered Michael’s part in the report was still not finished; I must admit I was steaming.

“ Why haven’t you finished the report?” I snapped.

“ Sorry, I didn’t have time” Michael replied with a far away look in his eyes.

“ You’ve been on the board again haven’t you?” Tony piped in.

“ Yeah, so what…”

“ We’ve got a schedule to keep.” Replied Tony in frustration.

Michael became enraged.

“ Oh chill will you, you’re always so damn serious.”

The argument was threatening to spiral out of control.

“ Well I have to be, to deal with self centred idiots like yourself”

I was angry and swiftly moved in.

“ Quiet both of you… you’re acting like school kids, He started it, No, he started it…” I said mocking their behavior.

“ Lets just get this issue and website updated shall we” I continued breathing heavy.


We headed towards the small box room were both the computer and the Quija board had been left.

Michael attention was quickly diverted away from the computer and to our disbelief he sat beside the board, to our horror we discovered the small triangular counter was missing but to make matters worse it had been replaced by a rather large wine glass.

“ Are you mad…. Never ever use a glass,” we cried.

I quickly picked up the glass still coming to terms with Michaels foolish mistake.

He quickly grasped the glass from my hands and placed it back on the board.

“ Hey, come on, the issue, let’s get it done.” Jack moaned.

“ Hang on, hang on.” said Michael in frustration.

He again sat beside the board and ignoring our pleas began asking questions yet again.

 The rest of us decided to continue with the site while every few minutes we would see the glass move and Michael writing the responses at great speed.

Suddenly Michael gasped, we stopped all activity and headed towards the board and the piece of paper Michael held.

The board had left a rather haunting instruction…. KILL TONY…

“Shit” Jack said fear spreading through his voice.

“ Who are you?” Michael said.

Suddenly the glass began to move at great speed back and forth, back and forth.

(We are many, we are Legion)…

“ NO…. “ he cried…

Before we knew what was happening Michael took the glass, we tried to stop him but were to late as the glass shattered.


We looked on as Michael dropped to his knees sobbing.

“How could I have been tricked, it seemed so real”

Michael still shocked by the sudden events sat in silence; I placed my arm on his shoulder doing my best to comfort him.

“Take you arm of me,” he yelled with anger…

Shocked I quickly obliged.

“ Sorry, I was only trying to help.” I replied in a shocked manner.

Michael’s frustration soon turned to blistering anger.

“ I bet your pleased aren’t you”

“ What are you talking about, you are supposed to be the artiest here.

“ You’ve never lost your parents, you don’t know what it’s like” he cried.

“ You’re right, we haven’t lost our parents but you know the stories of the Quija board and obviously in this case they appear to be true,” I said still trying to comprehend what had happened.


After our heated quarrel had somewhat simmered we decided to clean up the broken glass, we thought we’d seen the last of our troubles having agreed to stop using the board, we’d seen enough, however the real truth behind our curiosity would soon surface.

  It started at around 11pm; we had decided to stay together keeping each other’s company after the days events. It seemed ironic that on that particular night we were watching a 1980’s horror classic The Amityville Horror, another film from my growing collection. After the end credits I remember heading up to the bathroom. I suddenly heard footsteps heading quickly up the stairs, thinking nothing of it I ignored it that is until the lights suddenly went out leaving me in pitch darkness.

“Shit” I cried as I urinated down my pants,

“ Come on guys, switch the light back on you idiots”.

I finally left the bathroom and headed back down the stairs with a purpose in my step. A chorus of laughter greeted me.

“ Ha, har very funny you guys” I said in frustration.

“ Andy, you’re supposed to piss in the toilet.” Jack replied.

“ Yeah, well I couldn’t….”

“ It’s a big enough hole,” Jack continued in a din of laughter.

“ Well I couldn’t see, when you turned the bloody light off!”

The laughter soon drifted with only a few sniggers remaining.

“ We didn’t turn any lights on or off” replied Michael.

“ Oh yeah right, get away, who was it then?”

“ How the hell do we know,” they replied in chorus as I looked on in disgust.

“ Oh come off it Andy, you’re only trying to cover up your own embarrassment.” Jack said before more laughter filled the room.

  I refused to be drawn into another pointless debate; I knew one of those rats had done it, Jack especially as it was the sort of prank he would pull…


I was suddenly disturbed from my slumber, glancing at the clock it read 4am, I was met by both Jack and Tony as we stood on the landing wondering what had happened, all we heard was a deafening thud, then a slam.

“ What the bloody hell” Tony said in concern.

Michael’s bedroom door suddenly slammed shut with immense force.

We looked on in shock when suddenly the door opened once more, our hearts were pounding and there stood in front of us was a rather angry looking Michael.

“ What the hell are you guys playing at, it’s 4.15 am for Christ sake”

Michael quickly turned on the landing light, it was then we noticed Michael was sopping wet.

“ Very funny Andy…. But no one turned out that damn light and it certainly wasn’t me, rather childish thanks”.

“ What are you talking about” I yawned, still half asleep.

“ YOU pouring this water over me”.

Michael often took a glass of water to bed.

Yawning again “ Look, I haven’t done anything, certainly not that” I said almost sleeping were I stood.

“ Don’t deny it, look at me, I’m dripping.”

“ Wow, look I don’t know what you think you saw or who did what but lets discuss this in the morning shall we and get what sleep we can.


 Both Jack and Tony pleaded a case of innocence regarding the water incident but Michael was still being as stubborn.


Part 4: The Power Of The Damned

That whole day I felt like the supreme suspect, and I’d hoped that would have been the end of the trickery however as we were about to discover the worst was yet to come.


It was Friday, Pizza night, so we sent Tony to pick up the food in his car, it was around 10pm as we waited for Tony to return with the pizza, suddenly there was a loud aggressive banging on the front door.

“ Okay, Okay, hang on, hang on” Michael said.

He swiftly opened the door but to his and our surprise there was no one in sight.

“ Come on Tony, enough jokes, just give us the damn pizza before it goes cold, there’s no way I’m reheating it.”

Michael shut the door and had just turned off the front light when again the knocking started once more.

Again he opened the door in frustration this time and in front of him stood Pizza boxes on legs.

“ Come on guys, quick, quick, before I drop them”.

“ What the hell are you playing at, with all that banging.” Michael asked.

“ What have I done now”?

“ BANGING on the door like that”.

“ I haven’t, how could I, God only gave me two arms not eight you know, Christ, I can’t carry Pizza and knock at the same time, you’re losing it mate”.


After enjoying a cheese and tomato pizza we decided to put the final touches to our Ghost hunter website and magazine.

Feeling rather relieved that another addition had been completed I can remember Jack who was examining the old china pot Dog which according to Michael had been passed down in his family for years.


Suddenly both Tony and myself watched on as the pot dog swiftly moved from the mantle piece smashing onto the floor. As usual Michael was nowhere when the incident occurred and rushed into the room moments later.

“ What the hell was…. No…. No…. Who did this” he raged kneeling picking the pieces from the floor.

“ No one, it sort of just came off the mantle piece,” Jack pleaded.

“ ARH Bull, do you think I’m stupid”?

All three of us had gathered that something sinister was taking hold but despite all that had happened Michael refused to listen.

“ I can’t believe you could have done this” Michael continued.

“ Oh hell, it wasn’t us, it’s this damn house it’s…” Jack was interrupted, Michael swiftly approached Jack punching him and knocking him to the floor.

“ Don’t give me that crap, the house is haunted”….

“ STOP, STOP, we cried as Michael began to punch and kick… We desperately tried to pull Michael of a blooded Jack.

 “ Why can’t you see, you damn fool” Tony blasted.


The argument was about to escalate out of control I tried hard to make myself heard over the ranting.

“ Don’t you remember…”? I said, but still the squabbling continued.


They ignored me and continued…

“LISTEN” I bellowed, my voice now becoming horse.

The air calmed for a second…

“ Don’t you remember when this all started, Michael smashed the glass, then the unexplained incidents, the bathroom, the banging on the door and the footsteps…”

“ Oh shut it Andy….”Michael bellowed, as the argument was about to begin again.

“ LOOK, we’re doing it again” I said trying to control my rage.

    Suddenly I was hit on the head by a falling lampshade.

“Arrgh” I cried as I was knocked to the floor, I quickly regained my feet if not a little shaken, I felt the warm pulse of blood run down my face.

  “ Now do you believe, it’s a damn spirit, and it’s turning us against one another” I continued trying to stop the flow of blood…


Looking around the chilled room, we swiftly made it to the kitchen as the horrid truth began to hit home suddenly chaos was unleashed.


 Doors suddenly began to bang, open shut, open, shut at their own will.

 Tony and Jack fled into the living room trying to escape the panic but as Jack tried hard to open the doors he gave out a scream of pain, his hands now scolded on the piping hot door handles.

 “ Shit” Jack cried blowing hard on his hands trying to cool his wounds.

“ What are we going to do?” he cried. We clung onto each other for dear life as other objects, chairs were violently flung in our direction, and we were paralyzed with fear and couldn’t move….

 There was a sudden eerie growl that filled the air making our flesh creep, fearful sweat poured helplessly from our bodies as if trying to escape the immense evil itself.


  Then almost as quickly as it had started, the drama began to calm, just the odd few thuds on walls then deadly silence.

 We did our best to regain our feet though our legs had no motion and were like jelly.


“ Jesus”…. We said as we saw the house turned inside out in a matter of terrifying moments.

“ We’ve got to do something” Jack quivered.

“ Who the hell’s going to believe us?” Tony sobbed.

“ Never mind, that we need to get to hospital,” I said.

Knowing we were all to shaken to drive, we slowly phoned for an ambulance.

 Eventually the paramedics arrived to the bombsite.

“ What happened here?” the medic asked.

Gathering our breath we replied,

“ Wild party got a little out of hand.


We were taken to Whiston Hospital in a local town known as St Helens, Jack was treated for the burns he had obtained, I was given five stitches to the wound in my head, Tony and Michael luckily suffered the odd scrape and bruises.


We reluctantly made our way back to Newton on public transport, we thought, we hoped that maybe being away from the house our troubles were over, we had just sat down on the sixty one bus and at first all was calm, we were half way through our journey when suddenly the bus driver lost control of the bus skidding from one side of the road to the other. The air was filled with shear an utter panic as innocent passengers were flung out of their seats onto the floor.

 “ It won’t stop, it won’t stop” the horrified driver yelled.

 Every passenger now clinging for dear life as we headed for the horrific collision…. We hit hard leaving the ground before landing turning and rolling in one swift motion. The windows shattered with pain saking glass ripping fearful flesh.

  The air was filled by mumbling groans and sirens….

Bleeding, I was lucky enough to crawl free from the twisted metal seats that had been flung upon us. I slowly crawled over to Jack, pain pulsing in every part of my body, face down Jack lay silent in a puddle of shattered glass, I tried to communicate but he was silent, dead to the world.


Both Tony and Michael had severe injuries with twisted metal trapping Tony’s legs…

“ I can’t move, the seats got my legs” Tony groaned, breathing heavy.

 The emergency serves went to work cutting the injured free in a mass of noise.

 Our concern lay with Jack, the medics at least relieved a few fears, he was still alive but barely.

 We were taken back to Whiston Hospital from which we had come. The injuries were tragic as the driver of the bus was killed instantly on in pact and two of the elder people had died through shock and heart attacks.


As time drew on it was discovered that after the investigation the accident was put down to company error, both Tony and myself had barely left the hospital for over the two months, Jack had still not regained consciousness still we along with his grief stricken family prayed for his recovery, however that’s not all we were praying for.

It was late October, I can always remember that month and the day, the wind was blowing with utter force and the rain lashed down, glancing from Jack’s bedside window it could easily be a scene from a horror movie.

 It was 7.42pm when the skies opened with claps of deafening thunder, next a huge bolt of lightning struck the hospital leaving us in darkness, it was so strong in fact it had knocked out the emergency generator.


Again the ward was filled with an eerie chill and we feared the worst.

The rain continued its onslaught followed by a second lightning bolt given with such force the windows in the ward gave out shattering. Screams of panic could be heard as the winds immense force could be felt; we were under attack from the elements.

 We watched on in fear as the medical staff tried hard to gain control of an impossible situation…


Suddenly there was a deafening ear numbing tone, Tony, Michael and myself turned to witness Jack losing his fight for life.

“ FLAT LINE, HELP, THE MACHINE, THE MACHINE” Michael yelled fighting to be heard from the howling winds.

 The doctors rushed with great speed towards a fading Jack, when suddenly as before objects were been hurtled with demon force towards the doctors. We clung on to one another to scared to even look; tables, chairs and machinery were ripped clean from the walls as we darted for any safe place we could find.

 Suddenly again just as before the ordeal ended, but Jack along with four other patients were dead. The doctors looked on bewildered at the carnage.

  The demon force had made its presence felt and slowly gathering our senses our worry was who would ever believe us?


Part 5: No Belief, No Hope?

We were taken to a small waiting room, the doom room I called it due to the fact it was were most people went when receiving good or in our case bad news, there were no windows, three chairs and a coffee stained table,

 We sat sipping the dank coffee from the vending machine still trying to come to terms with Jack’s tragic death.

 “ What are we going to do”? Tony asked his voice still quivering from shock.

“ It maybe difficult but we have to tell some one” I replied.

Michael scoffed at my suggestion and really who could blame him, the situation was crazy.

“ Come of it Andy, what do you suppose we say, Jack’s death was caused by supernatural forces, they’d lock us up. If only I hadn’t smashed that damn glass” he said his eyes filling with emotion.

 Again we did our best to comfort one another.

“ Hey, come on, it’s as much our doing, we can’t afford to fall apart now.”


On the eve of Jack’s funeral we were about to discover just how hard getting help would be.

 Jack’s funeral took place at a local church in Wargrave Newton, after the service we would speak with father Appleton, however we didn’t bring up the subject as he spoke of what a tragic loss Jack’s death was.


After the funeral we reluctantly returned to Michael’s home, we crept slowly inside, our legs shaking as we stepped inside, luckily however for now the house was calm.

 We each sat helplessly still trying to come to terms with the loss of our good friend. We knew Jack would have wanted us to tackle the problems the question was how?

  Michael had obtained a small silver crucifix from the church, we felt guilty having stolen it, though we new if anything could keep us safe this would.


Over the following week we spent very little time apart, we felt stronger, safer that way and sure enough for a whole week nothing happened, no thudding, objects been thrown or cold chills, we thought just maybe it was all over and we could get on with our lives, it was only when we returned to our respective homes that we knew our troubles had truly begun.


It was 2am in the morning when I was woke by a strange jingling sound. I quickly sat up from my pillow and as my eyes focused I watched as my wind chime shook, swaying from side to side sending shivers down my spine.

 Again my body was chilled, I fumbled around in the dark franticly looking for the light switch, finding it I swiftly pushed down on the light switch and was greeted by a loud pinging sound and white flash as the bulbs blew out.

 I quickly placed my hands on the doorknobs trying to turn them, but they wouldn’t budge.

 Breathing heavy I was unable to move, suddenly a dark laughter rang in my ears.

“ LEAVE ME ALONE” I yelled as the laughter got darker and louder still, then suddenly I was thrown with shear force up into the air landing with a thud back on my bed,

 My heart was now totally irregular, at first I felt it stop, I could feel my rhythm pulse through the whole of my body, again perspiration swept from my creeping flesh, I could hardly draw breath, my chest was filled with intense pain when I was again picked up, yelling with unbelievable fright I tried my hardest to resist.

“ Let go, let go” I cried as I again I was thrown hard, smashing my back into the wall and falling to the floor with a crash.

 My parents suddenly rushed into my room…

“ What the hell is going on” they replied

Still shaking I replied “ Bad… dream… that’s… all” each word being squeezed with great effort from my mouth.


The following morning I awoke with aches and pains all over my body, as I looked into the mirror the full extent of the attack could be seen, bruises on my arms, legs and a deathly purple black shine to my right eye.

  My parents stunned at my appearance quizzed me again but I explained I had fallen out of bed and as my parents knew I was always doing that.


After breakfast I met up with Tony who was shocked at my appearance.

“ What the hell’s happened to you?”

“ I was visited” I replied in a shallow voice.

Tony’s face soon soured and replaced with fear as we headed to meet with Michael.

 We stood for what seemed like minutes waiting anxiously for the door to open, we thought maybe…

Suddenly a stern voice could be heard.

“ Hang on, hang on I’m coming”.

We were relived when Michael finally opened the door.

“ Well some ones had a bad night”.

Both Tony and myself scoffed at Michael’s comments.

“ No time for jokes, Andy was visited by…” before Tony  could finish, Michael knew what he was going to say as I sat tired and weak on the couch.

“ Oh great, WHY CAN’T YOU LEAVE US ALONE” Michael raged the veins pulsing in his neck.


Suddenly the room was again chilled, followed by a stench that reminded me of rotting eggs.

We looked on in paralyzed fear as a dark shadow appeared and confronted us, hovering for a second before disappearing through the wall, just as we gathered what breath we had left, a dark sinister growl could be heard all around before the demonic attack began once again, we were thrown swiftly from the main sweet onto the floor as the couch almost landed on top us, thrown with such force, we threw ourselves out of contact and watched it break with a loud crack.

“ We’ve got to get to church” Tony gasped.

Without hesitation we fled like mice avoiding flying obstacles as we darted out of the house towards Wargrave church.

 Father Appleton lived close to his church and we knew that no spirit would venture on to sacred ground, the experience I had discovered from watching my horror movies, I only hoped it would help in real life.

 Father Appleton kindly invited us in.

“ Father we need your help” I said the nerves making the words sound mumbled and fast.

“ Of course, what do you need? I thought you’d have been back at University by now?

 “ No, that’s the least of our worries” replied Michael.

As Father Appleton looked on, this was the moment of truth, would he believe?

 Breathing heavy, adrenalin pulsing through my body I began…

“ I don’t know quite how to say this, so I’ll just say it, we’re being haunted by a spirit, a poltergeist we think”.

 Father Appleton said nothing and continued to sip the tea from his cup.

 We looked on the nervous tension becoming too much as we waited for his response.

I spoke again… “ We were foolish enough to play with a Quija board and it’s started since then”.

 Again he took a sip from his cup before slowly placing it down, then swiftly sitting forward.

“ Look lads, I’m no fool here, you’re the producers of the Ghosthunter Magazine and you’re looking for a good story right?”

Michael swiftly interrupted…

“ Look father, I was an atheist, so if any one isn’t going to believe it would have been me, but we’re telling you the truth.”

“ Look I’ve got better things to be getting on with” father Appleton replied standing from his chair.

 I quickly rolled up my sleeves to show him the deep wounds in the hope this would help.

“ Look Andrew, ghosts, spirits, demons there part of the twentieth century not the twenty first, it’s probably just stressed.

“ JUST STRESS” Michael yelled, “ My house is haunted” he continued.


Father Appleton headed towards his front door and opened it,

“ Please take your imagination else were, now if you don’t mind I have work to do” he replied gesturing his hand and asking us to leave.

 We left feeling rejected and alone, we knew we needed desperate help but from whom?

 Leaving the church grounds and heading back to Michael’s home we weren’t about to give up on father Appleton just yet.

 Over the days, which followed, we returned to father Appleton’s home until eventually he reluctantly agreed to visit Michael’s home.


At last we thought we’d found that glimpse of light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Michael invited father Appleton  in and as in horror films we were praying, weird as it may sound, for something out of the ordinary to occur, but it didn’t.

“ Show yourself you son of a bitch”.. Michael cried out.

Still nothing, the house lay silent.

“ Father please believe us, we’re telling you the truth” Michael pleaded.

“ I’m sorry, but if you had a spirit of some sort, and evil presence especially, I wouldn’t be standing here. I’ve seen it all before, especially from stressed students and those who are going through the grieving process” he continued referring to Michael’s parents and our fellow friend Jack.

“ At least stay for a drink” Michael replied, thankfully the father agreed and we hoped this crafty cunning spirit would make itself present but this spirit was clever and knew when not too show itself.

 I wasn’t surprised as in most horror films or ghostly documentaries I’d seen ghosts didn’t appear at will.

 After finishing his drink father Appleton left the house though he did leave us a small Bible, perhaps in the hope we wouldn’t bother him again.


Later that night we were woke by a loud crashing, we had decided to sleep downstairs, we felt safer together, the demon spirit was back and with a vengeance and in no mood for charity as the pounding on the walls got louder and louder still and the dark evil growling had returned as the house hold comforts were thrown around at will.

 Michael swiftly grasped the small Bible and held it out in front of us like a shield.

 Suddenly the shield was dropped.

Michael cried out in pain quickly rubbing his hands.

 We looked on as smoke began to rise from the Bible, Michael tried in vain to pick the Bible up from the floor but it wouldn’t budge.

 “ Leave it, leave it” I cried pulling Michael away.

   Then out of nothing, there was a huge flash and we looked on as the Bible burst into an angry bluster of flames.


Each door again began to slam open shut, open shut making it impossible for us to escape.

Tony was suddenly grasped and we watched as the demon spirit lifted him helplessly into the air.

“ Let go, let go” he screamed punching and kicking the air.

 Both Michael and myself tried helplessly, grasping hold of Tony’s legs trying to pull him down, though it was no use and we watched in horror as Tony was thrown from one side of the room to the other, before finally been thrown through the pane glass doors with a shivering smash. We dove to the ground as the deadly splinters of glass showered on top of us.

 Getting swiftly to our feet and rushed to Tony’s aid.

“ Tony, can you hear us” I said my voice still trembling after our latest ordeal.

“ Yeah, of course I can” he replied each word blooded and bruised as he slowly got to his feet.


The Birds could be heard singing their morning chorus, the Bible father Appleton had given us still left the odd smolder of smoke we knew he would return for the borrowed book, only now what could we say?

 As expected father Appleton was not best pleased.

“ What’s happened here” he replied in shock glancing at the mass mess of broken glass and smashed furniture.

“ You young ones today, what with your wild parties” he continued shaking his head in disgust.

“ Look we’ve already told you, just look at me” said Tony pointing to the cuts on his face.

“ Save it son, you can’t go blaming your problems on ghosts and demons, yes there was a demon here last night, the alcoholic one.”

 I was irate as the father refused to believe anything, and I swear if he wasn’t wearing a collar… As it turned out that wouldn’t be the last encounter we would have with Appleton.


Later that very night a loud banging on the door interrupted our latest movie. We leapt to our feet ready for another attack.

 The knocking got louder as Michael nervously crept towards the front door before slowly opening it.

“ Father Appleton, what can I do for you” he replied and for a second we sighed with relief, only for a second.

 “ Don’t play me for the fool, do you people get your kicks out of it”?

By now we had joined a rather confused Michael.

“ Sorry, get kicks out of what, I don’t know what you’re talking about”

 Father Appleton ordered us to leave the house, I’d never seen him so angry as he led us down towards the churchyard.

 As we approached the strong stench of smoke fanned out across the air, our hearts sank as the sound of crackling could be heard before a demonic red glow could be seen the church was engulfed in hellish flames.

 We tried our hardest to plead our innocence, but father Appleton was grief stricken and who could really blame him.

 “ Is this because of the house thing” he wept.

“ No…” we cried in unison.

“ You make me sick, the whole lot of you, this church has stood for over a hundred years now look at it” he continued.

  We didn’t know what to do as we watched the church burning, not only did we have a demon to contend with but now this. Father Appleton looked on as the tears flowed from his eyes and the evil crackling flames continued their mass destruction.


“ I shall be pressing charges” Father Appleton continued,

“ Now get out of here” he raged….


The next morning Father Appleton awaked us along with two police officers that led us again to the churchyard.

 After the flames had burnt themselves out we were made to approach the church and there in front of us in large red bloody letters a message on the remaining bricks read WE ARE LEGION… WE ARE MANY

Again we denied the allegations but it fell on deaf ears.


A full investigation was carried out and for once we seemed to have stumbled across some good fortune as there was no evidence connecting us with the crime, father Appleton was distraught and ordered a restraining order upon us, which the officers obliged, our situation swiftly fell into darkness again as we would have to find help elsewhere.


The stress was beginning to tell as we felt trapped, there was no escape, no one would believe us and our strength of will was growing short.

 We met in our local pub glaring at pints of larger, we could have easily gotten ourselves intoxicated and finally end it all, but that would have been victory for the demon and we weren’t about to give in after all we had been through, as we would soon find out, neither was our twisted friend, could things possibly get any worse?




It was one week later when our supernatural war would take a chilling twist.

It was November 3rd and Michael had fallen ill with some sort of Flu virus and so again risking our own contamination we stayed by his bedside.

I knew going only of the fictional belief that now Michael was ill this would give the demon more energy to unleash on both Tony and myself.

 As nightfall blanketed the November skies, the sickly deathly grip of the demon would intensify.

 I can remember being awoken by the most deafening scream then a loud thudding.

Swiftly I got up, looked around as my eyes focused, Michael still lay helplessly in his sick bed, though Tony was gone. I rushed helplessly out onto the landing when I heard an agonizing groan, looking from the top of the stairs I saw Tony in a heap at the very bottom.

Rushing as fast as I could I approached Tony who slowly picked himself up.

“ It picked me up and threw me down the stairs” Tony wept as blood was oozing from his nose.

Before I even had chance to respond our attention was diverted to a loud crashing, we tried our hardest to get back to the top of the stairs whilst being struck with ornaments and pictures which were thrown with such force.

“ We’ve got to help Michael” Tony cried as again as always the loud thudding made it hard to be heard.

 We fled towards Michael’s bedroom but were stopped in our tracks by a wild cold rush of wind, the door slammed shut.

“MICHAEL!” Tony yelled trying hard to open the door.

“ Andy, help me, help me”….

I quickly snapped myself out of trance and tried to open the jammed door, Michael suddenly cried out in shear desperation.

We decided to use bruit force as Michael’s screams got louder and louder, like a bull towards a matador we charged the door, which finally gave way.

 I tried hard to grasp a hold of a desperate Michael but again we were thrown with ease, myself hitting my head on the old pine dressing table.


Helpless we watched on as Michael’s trembling flesh was hacked pierced at ease, dark oozing cuts appeared at will as the demon attacked.

 Michael had almost passed out in shear agony when he suddenly began to gasp for breath, we watched in fear as Michael’s chest was being invaded, pushed down as though the demon was suffocating him.

 He gave out one loud bellowing scream of agony causing blood to seep from his eyes and mouth.

 Then silence, nothing, death, all was calm…


I swiftly turned on the bedroom light and the true extent of the ordeal could clear to see, Michael lay helpless as his skin winced in agony the dark demonic cuts gleaming seeping in the light.

 “Michael, Michael…” we held his head up trying to get a response.

Slowly through the agonising pain Michael replied.

“ You have to find help” he whispered before closing his eyes, for a second we thought Michael was gone.


 I knew we had to do something, anything now, I risked been thrown into jail as I headed for last-ditch attempt to gain Father Appleton’s help.

The following morning I made the risky journey to his home at the now burnt Wargrave Church.

I had to try anything I could to get him to listen. I knocked nervously on his front door and waited for the backlash.

“ I thought you were clearly told to stay away” he replied in a stern voice.

“ Yes but…” the door was quickly been shut before I finally lodged my foot in the door.

“ What are you going to do now, attack me” replied a concerned father

“ Father please, I only want to talk, please” I said with desperation in my voice.

I was reluctantly invited in.

“ So where are the other two?” father Appleton replied.

“ Tony is with Michael, he’s become gravely ill that’s why I’m here.”

“ You don’t need a priest Andrew you need a doctor”.

“ Look, please, I know you don’t believe what we told you but we need your help, please father.” I pleaded my emotions getting the better of me.

“ I’ve already told you…”

“ Can’t you just bless the house?” I said before he rejected me again.

There was a slight pause.

“ If I do this do you promise not to bother me again”.

“ Yes father yes” I said with excitement and relief in my voice.


For at that moment it felt as though the crushing weight had been lifted from our shoulders.

I led father Appleton back to Michael, knocking hard upon the door.

Tony swiftly appeared with concern etched on his face.

“ Thank goodness you’re here, he’s gotten worse.”

Father Appleton headed up the stairs to a distressed Michael.


The father was shocked into silence at Michael’s deathly appearance and attempted to comfort him in his moment of need.

Suddenly as the father approached and revealed the crucifix to begin the blessing Michael yelled out in an angry tone of voice.

“ GET OUT, GET OUT”  he cried grasping hold of a stunned Appleton before wrestling him to the floor.

We were stunned at the series of events.

“ Michael what the hell are you doing” I cried throwing Michael off of the father.

 Father Appleton finally managed to get to his feet as Michael lay in a glare. Again he picked up the crucifix and as we watched on Michael’s face had turned stoned white as he began to tremble.

Michael cried out in pain as the father drew closer, suddenly an eerie groan could be heard all around and finally the demon’s silence was broken as it spoke through Michael.

 “ I HAVE THE BOYS SOUL” it cried in a chilling dark voice.

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing as this was the real life exorcist.

Father Appleton approached Michael who swiftly fled from his bedroom down the stairs and into the kitchen.

 The brave father overcome with past events again approached Michael who cowered in the corner, as he approached the demon exploded with rage grasping three large deadly kitchen knives and hurtling them in our and father Appleton’s direction.

 Un deterred the father continued before dropping the crucifix to the floor, we looked on as dark oozing blood covered the crucifix, a chilling laughter filled the air the father was defenseless as the demon grasped the helpless father Appleton holding him against the wall.

 Tony fled for father Appleton’s black bag, swiftly opening it he fumbled around before producing a small bottle of holy water, he rushed towards the demonic Michael throwing it over him.


Screaming in agony the demon released Father Appleton as he slumped down in the corner, Michael dropped slowly to his knees and for a brief moment there was silence.

 “ Michael”… Tony cried as he rushed towards him.

“ Tony wait” I cried trying to stop him.

 It was in that instance that the true demon would show itself, both father Appleton looked on as Michael’s face began to wither and age, part of his face remained human whilst the other seeped with sickly yellow ooze coming from the deep cuts on his face.

Dark laughter could be hard as the demon grasped a helpless Tony throwing him back into the wall.

“ TONY”… We’ve got to help him” I cried breaking free from father Appleton’s protective grasp.

 Again I was thrown back with tremendous force, landing hard on the couch and bouncing on the floor.

Father Appleton swiftly dragged me away.

“ Are you ok” he replied picking me up. I nodded as the demon approached a helpless Tony, tears flowed from my eyes as each button was ripped away from Tony’s shirt revealing trembling flesh.

“NO TONY”…. I          yelled.

The demon with Tony at its mercy turned towards us looking with deep dark soulless eyes, Michael Harper had been transformed.

I continued to try and get at the demon as the father held me back.

“ No Andrew it’s too late… it’s too late.”


The demonic Michael picked up a jagged kitchen knife and placed the blade towards Tony’s flesh he then violently slashed the knife from left to right, slowly, very slowly back and forth, the screams were to harsh to describe as Tony was split open, we continued to watch as the demon picked up a lifeless Tony, holding him the demon cackled aloud as intestines fell before us in a puddle of screaming blood.

 I looked on in shear shock as the life drained out of Tony almost as quick as his body fluids, Michael then collapsed.


Still trying to come to terms with past events I approached Michael with caution before slowly kneeling before him.

“ Michael can you hear me?” I said my voice hardly able to pronounce the words overwhelmed with grief.

Again there was a groan and I lept backwards….

Michael slowly sat up and turned and faced both the father and myself.

“ What’s happened, ware’s Tony” replied Michael.

 I could hardly bring myself to tell him but it wouldn’t be to long before he would discover the sight for himself.

“ TONY… NO”  coughing he vomited.

“ What’s happened?” he cried

“ Don’t worry Michael, it wasn’t your fault”.

“ What, you mean to say,… I did this?”

“ No Michael not you, this is the demon’s doing”.

 Michael looked swiftly at his blood soaked clothes.

“ No…. who’s going to believe that, you said it yourself father, I’m doomed” Michael broke grasping hold of father Appleton.


After the fracas that had occurred the police were sworn in by concerned neighbours and Michael was arrested by the local police, the demon had secured his first gruesome victory as I now feared the backlash from not only Tony’s grief stricken parents but my own as well, the supernatural factor would surely be all but buried now.


Father Appleton tried his up most to make the powers that be understand but to no avail and being honest looking back could you blame them?

 Michael’s home now cordoned off was under a huge murder investigation; the officers working at the scene were white with shock.


  The trial would take place at Liverpool Crown Court and both father Appleton and myself knew we were fighting a losing battle.

 Sitting in the court room listening to the prosecution rip my fellow friend Michael down I was filled with remorse and guilt, if only I hadn’t gotten involved with that Quija board…

  At the end of the first day of trial we were obviously feeling rejected as Michael was pratrade as a cold callas killer…


Tony’s funeral was an ordeal in itself, all eyes glaring at me, Tony’s father couldn’t take it and snapped…

“ YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE HERE” he yelled in bluster of tears as concerned on lookers tried desperately to restrain him.

  My parents who also were stunned stood by me though refusing to believe the whole Quija board angle and despite my pleads of how they’d known Michael from my school days and his character simply scoffed replying

“ You always think you know people”….


After the heated service Tony’s dismembered body was taken for cremation at St Helens Crematorium.

Now I had to turn my attention to the continuing murder trial and hope for some sort of miracle.


Father Appleton was allowed to visit Michael in his cell but as he reported back Michael was obviously dumbfounded with the whole experience, I couldn’t even imagine what he must have been going through, knowing you are innocent but being prêt rayed as a killer.

 Withdrawn Michael was trapped as we all were in this living nightmare.

“ He didn’t speak, not one word,” replied the returning father Appleton.

Michael’s soul was withering away as father Appleton continued to explain his demise.


The prosecution had swiftly presented all the evidence and had already pleaded with jury to convict.

 Michael’s legal advisers had explained the shear difficulty in explaining the true events, which they to were finding it hard to believe.

 The defence put the case forward as Tom Atkins defence lawyer spoke.

“ Members of the jury, it is my intention to convince you that Mr. Harper was infact a victim of demonic possession and thus had no control over his actions”.

 As expected the judge rejected the claim out right and was told to re think his claim. Once out of the courtroom Tom faced both of us to unveil the truth.

“ Look I told you before we should plead insanity that’s the only way out of this.”

“ But he’s innocent” I cried.

“ Not in the eyes of the law, I mean look at him,”… replied Tom

As we looked towards Michael he lay in a trance like state dead to the world and his surroundings.

“ He doesn’t even realise who he is, never mind where he is and this is the twentieth century, not the sixteenth, demonic possession doesn’t add up to any sane individual, this isn’t the movies, even you know this father” Tom continued.

 I understood also but it was such an injustice to Father Appleton and myself knowing the truth which no one could possibly comprehend, but there wasn’t anything else left to do.

 Heading back into the courtroom the judge finally gave the only verdict he could.

 “ Michael Harper, it is this courts decision to find you guilty.”

The words guilty, guilty, guilty, ringing in my ears, my heart sank as cheers of relief came from Tony’s parents.

Suddenly Michael broke as the officers led him down.

“ NO… NO … I didn’t do it… help me… help me… he continued to yell with the last ounce of strength he had.


Looking towards the sky and feeling the cold chilling November wind touch my skin I knew I was alone, returning to Newton le Willows I would have to prepare myself for whatever confrontation lay ahead.


November 24th, I was awoke from my bed, my parents stood watching the morning news bulletin Michael Harper was dead… I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, as the reporter continued to describe how the officers had found him hanging in his cell.

 I was struck down with grief as this felt like the final nail in the coffin, my obsession with horror and the supernatural had cost me three of my closest friends.


The month of December was upon me the season of good will; I had no reason to celebrate.

 As the month drew out I began having vivid flash backs and torrid nightmares, the same dream occurring again and again.

 I’d be walking down a dank cold corridor, at the side of me were prison cages, more like animal cages with the groans of suffering tortured people calling out, pleading with me. Coming to the end of the corridor a dark man, deformed would confront me, his face half rotten with yellow ooze seeping from a pour in his wrinkled face, I’d often wake with my bed soaked in fearful sweat.


The visions didn’t only occur at night but were turning into day mares; it was becoming more difficult for me to notice the difference between my dreams and real reality.

 Explaining this to father Appleton he often urged me to stay strong but weak and tired I was finding it hard coping.


On December the 10th the supernatural beast returned preying on my weakness, draining me for his energy.

I sat alone in my room staring at the Quija board, then to the photo of the good old days, the Ghost Hunter crew.

 I placed my fist down on the board with anger, the room swiftly became cold and the lights blew out leaving me in hellish darkness.


“SHOW YOURSELF” I yelled with rage just wanting the demon to put me out of my misery.

 I waited for a second then as if by command I was surrounded by blue bolts of light, almost like electricity charges, which spun with great speed around me.

 Shocked I fell back on my bed and watched in ore waiting for the confrontation.

 A foul stench, the smell of rotting flesh, the smell of death filled my room, followed by a strange cold blanket of mist that crept slowly all around me.

 Then out of the mist stood a figure, it approached slowly towards me, my heart had stopped I was rigid with fear.

 Grey in colour no facial expression but the essence of evil stood before me.

 I yelled out in fear and then again all was calm, no deathly white mist, or demon.

  I sighed with relief and whipped the flood of sweat from my forehead when suddenly I was thrown into the air, a dark eerie laugh filled my head as I hit my head and back against the wall.

 Crawling I slowly made it to my bedroom door; my hands shaking as I franticly turned the handle.

 Suddenly there was a loud banging from the other side of the door

“ GOD HELP ME”…. I wept as my parents franticly tried to get into the room.

 Again the furniture and appliances were thrown with ease, the loud explosion from my TV could be heard as it fell to hell.

 I finally mustered enough strength, the door opened and I was greeted by the horrified look on my parents face as I fled down the stairs avoiding shattering glass the photo’s that were thrown in my direction.


Escaping the house I limped with what energy I had left back to father Appleton, banging with force upon his door.

“ Andrew” he replied as I fell inside his house with exorstion.

“ It’s going to kill me, you must help,” I pleaded.

   He led me into his front living quarters were I was introduced to two elderly members of his congregation.

 As the father had continued to explain spirits and demons were part of the old church beliefs however he and the other two priests would put their lives on the line in order to be rid of this vengeful sprit by performing an exorcism.

 I could only pray this would end my living nightmare?


After been told of the risk of exorcisms I lead father Appleton and his other members back into the kingdom of hell to face the sinister demon.

 As I returned home I noticed a number of my neighbours watching on in horror, the spirit could still be heard, demonic screams.

 Once inside the front door slammed shut as the priests quickly prepared for the ritual ceremony.

  The eerie growl could be heard but undeterred they continued on.

 As the ritual began the demon’s anger reached new heights as table’s chairs and almost anything was thrown towards the priests, the room had become so chilled that now breath could be clearly seen.


Both my parents and myself huddled together avoiding flying obstacles, as they went from room to room demanding the spirit leave.

 Suddenly I watched on as a rather jagged demonic knife hurtled towards the suspecting priests hitting father Johnson square in the chest, dark laughter filled the air as the dying man placed his hand on his blooded chest before falling to the floor in a heap.


There was no time to stop as father Appleton proceeded up the stairs thrusting his crucifix in front of him and reading from the Bible as he did so the demon’s anger intensified, he managed to reach the top of the stairs before been thrown back to the bottom, I swiftly rushed to father Appleton’s aid helping him back to his feet.

Again he began his Holy verse and asked both my parents and myself to recite the Hail Mary, which we shouted from the top of our lungs…

 The Demon’s screams became so intense, as we continued.

“ Leave this place unclean spirit” Appleton commanded as we continued with the prayer.

 Loud thudding again began as the demon tried hard to resist…

  Making the sign of the cross and avoiding mirrors as glass shattered he made his way around the house.

 The battle was nearing its end as the demon fled, the thudding fading, the screams fading until silence.


“ Is it over father” I said whipping the blood from the cuts and bruises.

The father took a minute, whipping the sweat from his head.

Suddenly the smell of roses swept the house.

“ Roses, what is this?” I said with confusion.

“ It’s God’s will” father Appleton replied.


We slowly headed back down the stairs, weak and tired.

“ Can you smell”?

  Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light and the next thing I remember was hurtling through the air and landing hard.

  All around were concerned people looking down upon me, as I focused my eyes my home was a burning inferno, I swiftly tried to get back inside but was held back.

“NO….” I yelled in emotion the words been choked by the flow of blood which seeped from every part of my aching body.

  I was in total shock as a blanket was quickly draped around me, my head in a daze I was lead away by paramedics.


My eyes flooded with tears I watched as the fire brigade battled the raging hellish flames.

 The next thing that comes to mind was waking in a hospital bed; I was approached by two police officers that explained the tragic news I had feared.

 “ I’m sorry Mr. Jenkins, there was nothing they could do, and you’re lucky to be alive”.

“ What happened” I stuttered knowing I was alone the shear emotion breaking through.

“ Faulty Gas mane”…. The police officer said slowly.

 I wept knowing the truth but said nothing.


After being discharged from hospital I headed back to my former home after been declared safe by the emergency services.

The sight was of shear devastation, nothing but charred images of a past battle; I slowly walked up the stairs and headed to my bedroom again all my possessions gone. The cold draft blew from my window were the glass once was.


Just as I was about to leave a small piece of wood caught my eye, I walked over and picked it up dusting away the soot.

QUIJ… the A had burned away like everything else.

 Despite all I’d lost this one piece of wood remained as a chilling reminder. With furious anger I through it against the wall the brittle wood shattering like my life…


I spent many months in counseling not really being able to reveal the dark truth that stays with me and of course you the reader.

 I used to think the Quija board was a myth, I used to enjoy horror movies but in reality the experience had taught me a very costly lesson “Curiosity did indeed “kill the cat”….


Jack Cunningham, Michael Harper and Tony Jeffers, the Ghost Hunter crew, three great guys who lost their lives through a deadly deed,

 So this goes out to any one who dares play Quija, real life’s horror’s can’t be rectified and as for the Exorcist, that’s just a movie, like all horror films there only fiction… the Quija Board Is NOT!


Be Wise!

Former Ghosthunter

Andrew Jenkins 

(C)2005- all rights reserved














Transplants United (C)2005