Pendle Hill
Saga
High up on a hill, set among rolling countryside and beautiful little villages, nestled between green fields and farming country, there sits the shell of what was once a majestic castle. By day, it is idyllic, however on a dark or stormy night it takes on a different atmosphere altogether, dour, bleak and inclement.
Home to the most famous coven of witches in all of England, legend has it they still reside in the ruins of this castle, their spirits so malevolent, there are reports of physical illness and injury, psychological trauma, to those that dare step foot onto the grounds.
Decades previous, there was said to be a huge, limestone tower that housed a family of local peasants. However, they were no ordinary family. Allegedly in possession of unexplainable powers, so enormous they were reported to be in league with the devil himself. Rumours abound that they made clay effigies of human hair and teeth.
Many locals died of various mysterious illnesses at that time. Others were said to have died in great pain. The milk in the area turned sour and they were inundated with mysterious cattle deaths.
They heard the rumours, had been told the stories, yet they paid no mind. For there was money to be made. Cameras were set up in strategic places, microphones and equipment ready to capture the most diminutive sound. They were unperturbed by the legend of the hill, curiosity too great.
As night fell, they were picked off one by one, each going down harder than the last. Some reported a feeling of being choked, others struggled to catch a breath, but all of their injuries had the same running theme – the feeling of a noose tied tightly around their neck.
Her corridors seemed narrower in the dark, as if she were closing in on them. Heart beats quickened, pulses raging against clammy flesh. Each corner they took brought more terror. Bile rose quickly, swallowed down with a nervous gulp.
They were warned, calmer spirits making themselves known to steer the group away from their final destination. They kept going, glass shattering all around them, the flickering lights and low, pained groans making them hesitant to move forward - But it was too late to turn back.
The farm had an eerie atmosphere, foreboding, as if it were trying to convey a message to them. An explosion of activity, air so cold, their breaths billowed. Prickled skin, hairs on the back of the neck standing on end, a cold sweat broke out.
Whispered incantations and curses made their heads spin, tables overturned, its legs snapped clean off. Objects were thrown, whispers grew louder and louder.
“You are not welcome here!”
He fell to his knees, clutching his neck, screaming.
The energy increased, tenfold, swarming the group.
“Scalp them!”
Breaths were caught in throats, chests heaving.
“Break their fingers!”
She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, limbs stuck out at the wrong angle.
Cagey individuals with hideous thoughts surrounded them, crowding them in, spitting out curses, pushing and shoving.
“You do not belong!”
A table snapped clean down the middle, lights flashing off and on, the floor vibrating.
“Out!”
“Out!”
“Out!”
Hypervigilance kicked in. They ran. Equipment tossed like trash, they hurtled down the hill.
A dark, cloaked figure with a sinister grin and a malevolent glint, followed them home…
Home to the most famous coven of witches in all of England, legend has it they still reside in the ruins of this castle, their spirits so malevolent, there are reports of physical illness and injury, psychological trauma, to those that dare step foot onto the grounds.
Decades previous, there was said to be a huge, limestone tower that housed a family of local peasants. However, they were no ordinary family. Allegedly in possession of unexplainable powers, so enormous they were reported to be in league with the devil himself. Rumours abound that they made clay effigies of human hair and teeth.
Many locals died of various mysterious illnesses at that time. Others were said to have died in great pain. The milk in the area turned sour and they were inundated with mysterious cattle deaths.
They heard the rumours, had been told the stories, yet they paid no mind. For there was money to be made. Cameras were set up in strategic places, microphones and equipment ready to capture the most diminutive sound. They were unperturbed by the legend of the hill, curiosity too great.
As night fell, they were picked off one by one, each going down harder than the last. Some reported a feeling of being choked, others struggled to catch a breath, but all of their injuries had the same running theme – the feeling of a noose tied tightly around their neck.
Her corridors seemed narrower in the dark, as if she were closing in on them. Heart beats quickened, pulses raging against clammy flesh. Each corner they took brought more terror. Bile rose quickly, swallowed down with a nervous gulp.
They were warned, calmer spirits making themselves known to steer the group away from their final destination. They kept going, glass shattering all around them, the flickering lights and low, pained groans making them hesitant to move forward - But it was too late to turn back.
The farm had an eerie atmosphere, foreboding, as if it were trying to convey a message to them. An explosion of activity, air so cold, their breaths billowed. Prickled skin, hairs on the back of the neck standing on end, a cold sweat broke out.
Whispered incantations and curses made their heads spin, tables overturned, its legs snapped clean off. Objects were thrown, whispers grew louder and louder.
“You are not welcome here!”
He fell to his knees, clutching his neck, screaming.
The energy increased, tenfold, swarming the group.
“Scalp them!”
Breaths were caught in throats, chests heaving.
“Break their fingers!”
She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, limbs stuck out at the wrong angle.
Cagey individuals with hideous thoughts surrounded them, crowding them in, spitting out curses, pushing and shoving.
“You do not belong!”
A table snapped clean down the middle, lights flashing off and on, the floor vibrating.
“Out!”
“Out!”
“Out!”
Hypervigilance kicked in. They ran. Equipment tossed like trash, they hurtled down the hill.
A dark, cloaked figure with a sinister grin and a malevolent glint, followed them home…
♠ ♠ ♠
I tried?