Day 7

The day had finally came. A day trip to the long lost abandoned village of Wharram Percy. The village was a 19th century crop village, it had been home to over fifty residence who all vanished over night.
My friend and I were taking the trip to take photos for our photography project. My camera was already packed in my camera bag, along with every lens I’d need, spare batteries, lens hoods, everything really.

My friend had the same but she also had a GoPro that she could strap to her chest or hat. She planned to take as many photos as possible.

We packed everything into the back of her car before climbing into the front two seats. Nancy decided to drive up to the deserted village which meant I would be driving back. As the passenger I had no control over the music, as Nancy liked to say ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’ damn Supernatural for that reference, thankfully she liked good music.

The whole drive up to the village we spent singing along to everything we knew the words to. We turned onto a country road slowing down for a better look at the scenery. Half a mile down the country road we came to a old crumbling church partially hidden by the forest, dirt tracks wandered off towards the woods, most lead up to the decaying church.

Nancy killed the engine before climbing out of the car, I followed suite and my way to the boot of the car. We both collected our camera bag and headed in the direction of the old church. I stopped a few feet away to free my camera of the old bag I had yet to replace.

I was amazed at the reaming walls still intact, only the roof appeared to be missing. Most of the steeple was still there save for the front facing wall. Peering through the windows I was surprised to see the ground still upturned, rocks pilled against the walls, it looked as if archaeologists were still working here.

Moving on from the church we looked over what was left of the graveyard, a few headstones stood tall, all washed smooth from years of weathering. There were two sealed tombs barely big enough to fit a coffin still standing both at opposite ends of the graveyard.

I looked round, pointing my camera towards the woods, a small girl stood along the foot path. She was wearing what looked to be a white long sleeved shirt with a maroon tunic over the top. Her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail tied with a ribbon.

I snapped a shot of the scene assuming she was some kid cosplaying as a medieval girl playing among the ruins of a church or castle. Lowering my camera after the click I looked around that area wondering where the girl had disappeared to.

Nancy startled me as she jumped in front of me, her hood pulled up and over her face. I laughed it off as I looked at the last photo I took, the girl was missing from the photo too. Nancy peered over my shoulder, her hair falling loose from her hoodie. She looked back up and suggested we head into the woods and explore the dirt paths. In her words there could be more of the village just waiting to be discovered.

With that we headed off in hopes of finding something. The forest wasn’t too vast but seems to grow more dense the further we went. The further we followed the trial the more the woods appeared to decrease, rounding the large shrubbery my mouth fell open metaphorically, Nancy’s actually did fall open.

Wooden buildings painted black and white stood around a stone well. White walls with black beams showing off the buildings skeleton, slate tiles still attached to the roof. Windows devoid of all glass, scraps of wood nailed together stood in the doorways, half eaten by years of decay. One of the houses had a wooden tower look only wide enough to fit one person, even the well had a slate roof over it. A metal handle protruded out from the wells support beams, rope still attached to the metal bar.

I wondered if there was still a bucket attached to that rope. Snapping photos of the small settlement I dared go forward, I felt drawn to the well. I jumped looking over my shoulder at the sudden shriek, Nancy was smiling at me, almost like she never heard the noise.

Nancy made her way over to the closest building while I still advanced towards the well. Peering over the edge of the well I could see the reflection of myself in the water. The rope was still attached to something that was beneath the water. I reeled in the rope shocked that there was still a bucket attached to the end of the rope.

When the buckets handle was within reach I pulled it up regardless of the grime layered on the metal handle. Setting the bucket on the rim of the well I released the handle ready to wipe my hand on my jeans when I noticed blood smeared all over my hand. Yelping I knocked the bucket back into the well as I stumbled backwards and fell to the ground.

My back colliding with the floor knocked the air from my lungs. My eyes slipped closed as I tried to catch my breath. I couldn’t help the scream that left my throat when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I thrust my fist out trying to push away whatever had touched me, my eyes flew open to see Nancy knelling beside me, tears streaming down her cheeks as she doubled over laughing.

I pulled myself forward to sit up my hands falling into my lap, not a single drop of blood to be seen on my palm or jeans. In its place was black sludge likely from the bucket I’d pulled up earlier. Nancy asked me if I as okay and told me I had to go into the buildings. The one she had gone into was full of markings covering the walls.

She helped me to my feet, I patted down my jeans wiping away what dust clung to them before following Nancy into one of the houses. Like she said the walls were riddled with strange markings, all different mediums used to draw the symbol on every surface, ink, paint, mud, blood and so on.

I lost sense of reality as I photographed the walls making sure I got as many of the makings in the pictures. Nancy disappeared from my vision, I turned in circles trying to find her, the images on the walls blurred together. My ankle cracked, my whole body collided with the wall closest to me, my vision still blurry as I focused on the black figure approaching me.

As my vision started to focus I was able to make out the marooned tunic of the little girl I’d seen earlier. Black smudges all over her now spoiled clothes. Dirt smeared over her skin, hair all straggly hanging limply. She was look at the floor as she drew closer to me.

Scrambling to my feet I fled the house, my camera bag lay abandoned on the ground where I’d fallen into the wall. I stopped in my tracks between the house and the well, darkness had fallen on the village, the moon full in the sky casting its light over me. Turning back to the house when I heard the wood creak I gasped.

Nancy slowly descended the wooden stairs, one painfully slow step at time. Her hair looked wet, hanging loosely, like each strand was being weighed down, her eyes completely black. Skin grey with black veins protruding out. She staggered closer to me, like her legs had been broken, dragging her feet across he dirt leaving tracks behind her.

I stepped backwards, shaking my head as I whispered no over and over, tears stinging my eyes and mixing with what dirt covered my cheeks. Her hand reached out to me, the same black sludge dripping from her finger tips mixing with the water I hadn’t realised was falling from the sky.

I felt my foot slip on something, my balance leaving me completely, the backs of my legs hit the side of the well causing me to fall backwards. I screamed as I felt my feet leave the floor, an excruciating pain passed through my skull making my go black.

Nancy searched the area where the church was, sirens blasting in the distance. Megan had disappeared moments ago, her bag left by the entrance to the woods. Her phone went to voicemail every time Nancy tired to call her. Even when the police arrived, a dozen or so with K9 units helped me look through the woods for Megan, there were no tracks for them to follow, the dogs couldn’t seem to pick up her scent either.

They told Nancy to drive to the nearest town and get a room for the night, they would keep searching for her if they needed to. The woods were small, usually a place where people walk their dogs.
Nancy mentioned to the police that Megan had said she’d seen a girl in a red dress running around. She even showed them the picture Megan had taken on her camera, impossible is what they said.

That girl had gone missing over 50 years ago, her body never found. But before she’d disappeared she had raved about a abandoned village and its well inside the woods.

Nancy took Megan’s things and packed them up in the car and left for the night. She was afraid to think that she would never see her friend again.

Later that night as the police continued to search the woods for Megan, she woke inside the dark well. He clothes soaked with blood, her skull aching every time she moved. Looking up she winced her hand reaching up to rest on the open wound as she screamed for help.

Outside the well the girl jumped around dancing with the black figure Megan had seen inside the house. Laughing as she twirled this way and that, ignoring the screams from the demons newest victim.