Tag: John Riley

When the lights go out

Here’s something for The Ghostly World Journal, finally found the time to write it down. Hope you find the experience of Lisa and Markus of interest if not rather scary…

I like to stop and visit from time to time the Cafe on Milton Road, Chichester. On occasions I end up sharing a table with a stranger and usually end up in a conversation. Usually the opening gambit is a question as to whether the chair opposite me is taken and if they might join me. That’s how it happened when, I think he said his name was Malachy, a stranger to me, he came to sit at my table.

Sharing some small talk I happened to mention my interest in unexplained experiences and that I was on my way after lunch to meet with an owner of an alleged haunted house. Well his eyes lit up and thought I’d might be interested in a story that just happened the other week, then thought for a moment as if he might have the date wrong.

He said he knew the people involved in this tale and vouched for their characters, assuring me they wouldn’t have made the story up, certainly not to him. He repeated that they are not the sort to and still cannot account for what they’d experienced. Events like this don’t happen to people like them, their answer when they recalled the episode to Malachy. So I took him at his word. The experience had disturbed and haunted their thoughts as to how they came to experience the start of World War 3.

Here is his account of the events. It was late evening when Lisa and Markus returned home after attending a party for some friends of theirs, they decided to watch some television before going to bed. When they switched on the television the normal station they expected to see was broadcasting an emergency alert. What they had on the channel was a World War 3 alert, informing people what to do.

At first they thought this was a joke, but all the stations were broadcasting this breaking news story. The longer it played out, the reports increasing unnerving. The BBC in the UK, reported the latest details and what was known so far. They were also informing people of an emergency channel, broadcast over TV networks as well as web addresses for those still with internet connections. Information was constantly updated, informing people how to keep safe and what preparations to take. News announced about various Heads of State, and they remember the Queen of the United Kingdom had been moved out of the country.

Broadcasts from all over the world were talking about war breaking out, and the first strikes had taken place in the US. Nuclear strikes had targeted major capitals of Europe as well. Then it seemed that more and more countries of the world were reporting missile strikes.

Lisa and Markus listened long into the night and into the early morning unable to break away from the destruction they were seeing reported. Lisa had tried to phone her mother and was unable to get through. The phone networks were down and at one point so was the internet.

Malachy continued telling me of this amazing experience and reinforced that the couple had listened throughout the night, understandably shocked, unable to take in what they were witnessing and stunned by the reports. In terms of what to do, they were constantly questioning themselves, realising there’s not much they could do at this point. An unnerving sense of isolation and what fate loomed. The feeling of hopelessness with everything, their family, friends, neighbours – what will happen..?

It was 6:00am in the morning when they flicked over to the local news channel, the breakfast show. This would give them local information and news about their region and possible preparations they need to be attending to after watching world effects and the destruction of cities. But then the strangest of things.

The regular news bulletin carried no mention of World War 3, no emergency broadcast, nothing… just the local news headlines, travel and weather reports. They flicked around the main channels. All broadcasting the main news of the day, no mention of the World War, no mention of first strikes, no mention of emergency procedures the population need to be informed about. It was just the normal regular broadcasts they see day and night.

So what had happened? Malachy looked at me as if holding out for an answer.

Could it be a time slip? He said, as I shrugged my shoulders unable to offer any explanation. They’d been recorded cases of people seemingly slipping back into the distant past and out again somewhat quickly. Did the event exist in another reality and those signals from it bled into our own reality and Lisa and Markus somehow tuned into it. A most strange case and one very real to the couple.

I’d to excuse myself. On returning I was somewhat surprised that Malachy had gone from the chair. Nowhere to be seen. I asked the woman at the other table if she had seen my dining friend leave. The woman looked a bit taken aback. Apparently she was wondering what was holding my fascination for so long seated as I was on my own.

WB esq.

assisted by John Riley

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The Woman Upstairs

You know consider, if you will, two important dates. The date of your birth and the date that you die. Imagine this, one of the dates is left behind while the other, with every passing day, comes a little closer.

The Woman Upstairs

by John Riley

 

Along a winding road that does traverse hill and dale, rising and falling across the byway is a place, a place where the road stops.

A journey burdened with grey clouds and a winter’s mood that draws in the cold and banishes one to a place of isolation.

For at the end of this road is a house whose face is somewhat crumbled and etched with cracks. The four windows, far from clear and the front door, within the middle, has slipped a little.

Upstairs, in one of the three empty bedrooms, a woman stands facing the door her back against the wall. She waits. A faraway look in her eyes and she stands consumed in the moment, a moment of life reflections.

Downstairs there is a man, young, but not in looks, who seeks solace from the bottle that no longer lifts him from the gutter. He is sprawled on the punch drunk sofa all battered and bruised sleeping off a hangover.

There is another figure outside the house. He waits, hidden, clothed in the shadows. For he has come to visit the woman upstairs and meet with her again at this house at the end of a long and winding road.

The other man inside the house is lost to sleep and does not hear the visitor pass by and climb the steep and creaking staircase.

The woman smiles when she sees the familiar figure framed in the doorway and beckons him forward to enter the room. She steps away from the wall as he raises his arms to draw her near. They embrace and linger does the kiss one more time.

Downstairs, a sleeping man, exhales his last breath.

Upstairs the rooms are empty, forlorn, deserted of life.

Death has taken Life away, away from the house at the end of the road.

-end-

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Dawkins and Booth Ghost Story

The Ghostly World Fictional Ghost Stories

 

Can you see it?

You’ve come to the right place if you are searching for suitable tales for halloween or for any other times of the year, especially to read during the hours of darkness.

Are you drawn to short horror stories maybe some scary stories? Well, you’ve found the right place, we’ve plenty of creepy, scary, haunted short fiction for you to enjoy free throughout The Ghostly World website.

If you like very short fiction stories, here’s one for you. Do let us know what you think of it after you’ve read. We’re around after midnight, we’ll look in, see if anyone’s made a comment and lurking around The Ghostly World. For now, we’ll let you read while you’ve got the time.

Can you see it?

Well, I must admit I couldn’t see any thing. Clearly, I wasn’t looking close enough.
“Look,” she came back with all impatient and demanding.
“There he is, amongst the trees! There’s a figure in the shadows.” Hannah stabbing a bony finger at the painting.

I felt told off.

I just didn’t get it. She snatched the oil painting from me continues to gurn and pulls more expressions focusing on the same part of the picture, where she insisted a figure had mysteriously appeared. She turned the painting all ends up and insisted it was there.

Hannah can be a delightful soul. A frail buckled back woman, wispy grey hair that looks frazzled. She hobbles along with a sword walking stick. I’m sure illegal and apt to use it as some elongated appendage to point things out.

The painting we’re examining, not all that good, saturated with colour, but you recognise Hannah’s cottage. A night scene painted during the crescent moon seen in the sky.

A few days later Hannah rang me and duly I went to her cottage expecting the same request to check over the picture. That was the case, but this time Hannah had the spyglass quickly in my hand to examine the painted yew tree at the entrance to the gate.

“There can you see him, he’s moved.”

I could not see him. I was beginning to wonder over Hannah’s obsession, was she feeling okay? On cue, the walking stick came forth wielded from below tapping with such dexterity at a point on the image.

There was something, but not what Hannah had mentioned.

It was the image of the moon, almost full. I thought it was a crescent last time I checked. I peered closer at the surface of the painting perhaps flakes of it had fallen off to reveal more of the moon.

Maybe it was Hannah messing with it. Perhaps I need to tread more carefully, where Hannah’s concerned.

I deliberately kept avoiding the calls for a while, thought maybe better I try to put a little space between us, sort of let the thing fade out naturally and give it a little time before calling back on her.

It worked, as in the calls stopped and I did feel relieved not to be making the journey out of my way to meet up with her.

Well, it must have been a month or so after my last call to Hannah. I was walking down the high street and then I saw the painting, in the window of a second hand shop called Bygone Times. It was definitely the same painting. What drew my attention was the moon, a full moon.

For a moment I collected my thoughts, maybe painted in before offered for sale. However, there was something else on the path walking away from the cottage, a figure. A tall figure with top hat, cape and walking cane that on closer inspection revealed a glint of steel, a swordstick!

Would you believe it and the synchronicity of it all. Just after seeing the picture in the shop for sale I happen to find out from a friend about Hannah.

It seems gone to her grave.
What sent her there?
Apparently an accident with the swordstick!

-end-

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Rise do souls from slumber deep

Here’s a short extract to share with you dear reader, especially now that the hours of daylight are fading fast and the nights last longer. Make sure your doors are shut and locked tight…

Rise do souls from slumber deep

from unhallowed ground no corpse to keep

and drag death’s gait on moon lit road

to seek you out in locked abode

that they do reek and moan the dead

while you remain tucked up in bed

for do not rise and unlock the door

or your days shall be no more

Do you like, feel free to comment or continue the verse if you feel inspired to join in and we’ll post the best below…

entry by Jonathan Harker/Thomas Flyte/John Riley

artwork thanks to
phio
Frantisek_Krejci
halit52

The Ghostly World Fictional Ghost Stories

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and then there were none

by Willoughby Bedford/John Riley

Here’s a little something you may not have heard about. It is an unexplained mystery that the people here at the ghostly world have been looking into, asking me to visit the North Yorkshire coast and report.

As before, the usual arrangements made and people and places checked out. So, let me tell you of a case, witnessed by several staff members at a company near the lovely seaside town of Whitby, UK.

I’ve been able to speak with several people, some of them a little long in the tooth but able to recall the events that took place back in 2015.

The incident concerns a Miss Doreen Moore, who worked at a handling company inputting data, mainly loyalty card applications.

She worked alongside a group of fellow workers. There were six colleagues on Doreen’s table.

I managed to speak with four of the group, meeting them along with others who remember the case. I have to say not everyone was keen to be involved or lend his or her name to this journal. So, carrying out their wishes, I have altered the names of the people speaking with me.

From what I have ascertained, Doreen was a quiet lady, around 40 years of age, lived locally and well thought of amongst her peers. She worked full time, whereas many of the other staff members tended to be part time.

Elsie, Susan, Denise and Bridget told me, her colleagues on the same desk, the incident had happened on the evening of the 2nd October 2015.

At the end of their work shift, they gathered up their belongings as normal and headed off to the car park.

The evening staff were arriving and I have managed to speak with a few of them who remember seeing the sports car turn up, apparently quite distinctive and with a head turning noisy exhaust. They remember it parking up in view over by the back wall and seeing a man step out of it.

Doreen’s colleagues remember outside on the steps a young man meeting her.

“We just waited on the steps,” said Elsie, “curious, like we would be, at seeing this good-looking man.”
“I remember Doreen looked surprised when seeing him,” added Susan.
“I thought she’d a toy boy,” laughed Bridget. “Well we all thought he was someone special the way she looked at him, all coy and stuff.”

“Anyway,” continued Elsie, “she went with him to his parked car. Very flash car, we couldn’t believe it. She’d kept him quiet.”

All four laughed, and then Elsie spoke again.

“Normally Doreen walks to work, she only lives a few streets away. And we’d all heard him say he’d come to pick her up and take her home.

“Anyway, we are a nosy lot, kept watching them. Proper gentleman opened and held the car door for her getting in. My Ernie wouldn’t do that, sets off before I’ve time to belt up.”

Denise chipped in. “You know thinking back over it, I still get goose bumps, remember that strange stillness while we were waiting for them to drive off. We were stood, like we couldn’t move, just waiting.”

Susan steps forward. “We were waiting for them, so we could wave them off. Bit of a laugh really, as if we now know who her secret lover is. But they didn’t drive off, it was so still as well there, like as if just before a thunder storm, the air, very close.”

Elsie speaks. “We saw them get in the car but it just went on a bit too long. Didn’t start up the car and the way the light of the evening seemed to fade so quickly, even the car seem to stand out in an eerie way? The air was so close. We had that moment between us; we were kinda of worried at this point. Not that we thought things were going on in the car.” She looked knowingly at Bridget. She continues. “We felt we needed to check everything was okay. We knew something didn’t feel right.”

“So we set off and walked over to the car.” Susan says. “When we got to it and looked inside. The car was empty.”

“We never had that car out of our sights,” Elsie insisting. “We saw them get in it, expected it to pull away but it didn’t and that strange stillness and eeriness had us check everything was okay. None of us could believe it. They’d just vanished.”

Of course, such an incident did lead to investigations; the case remains open according to the police records. The ladies did tell me that lots of official looking type people started taking an interest in their experience. However, they got the impression that the true story would never be published in the local or national newspapers.

The incident did have an effect on those women and I further checked some of the other people in the office starting their shift, particular those sat by the window if they had seen anything of the car. A few of them remember the car and seeing the man open the door for his passenger. They remember the car not moving off and just thought it might have broken down. But they never did see anybody get out of it, saw Elsie and the others going up to it. They had wondered about it and remembered Elsie with the others coming back in the office agitated.

The car wasn’t there the next day when they clocked in for work. It had been talked about amongst them for days later. They remember the storm and it had led to a power cut on their terminals.

One further aside to add into the case was that Elsie and Bridget remember something happening in the high street where they live. Both of them on separate occasions recall walking down the street when a man just pop out of the crowd and pointed a camera in their faces taking a snapshot of them. He then ran off before either had time to ask what was going on. Both Susan and Denise haven’t yet been subjected to any such experience.

So, I’ll leave you all to ponder on that one and await any comments you wish to share. Until the next time I wish you all safe passage through your life.

-end-

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