At The Golden Fleece

On a ghost hunt to The Golden Fleece in the city of York in the U.K, this Tudor fronted public house is reputed to be one of the oldest inns in York and its origins can traced to around 1500. It is rumored to be one of the most haunted buildings in Yorkshire, let alone York, paranormal activity recorded here includes strange light analomies, items been thrown off the bar.

The Golden Fleece as gained a reputation of being haunted by a variety of eerie spectres from ghostly children dressed in rags are said to be heard running up and down the corridors. Another spooky sighting is that of a Second World War pilot who is alleged to, as legend would have it, either committed suicide, or fell to his untimely death from an upstairs window in a drunken stupor.

But what we witnessed in one of the bedrooms literally shook us all to the core, there is reputed to be a malevolent spirit called John who is considered to be quite aggressive and even threatening to women who participate in glass divination when communicating with him.

Incidents of words 'death or kill' have been spelt on the Ouija board, when in contact with this spectral culprit who is said to frighten even the most hardened of ghost hunters. A group of us were sat in the alleged bedroom of Johns calling out for some paranormal activity, when unexpectedly a noise was heard from behind us as we all turned around we noticed that a coat hangar was now on the floor, and the remaining coat hangars were swinging violently too and fro in a manner very similar to a pendulum

I had never witnessed before, there was no one even in close proximity to the wardrobe that could have moved or banged the wardrobe, however we could not even reason how the coat hangar had landed on the floor as it was not there when we initially walked into the room, prior to starting the vigil, and all of us in the group had heard the coat hangar hit the floor as well.

In the midst of all the chaos we could still hear the coat hangars moving in the wardrobe too, needless to say there was a lot of screaming in the room by our shocked ghost hunters, some of them left the room vowing never to return to the room. Some of us carried on with the vigil, asking 'John' for more signs of his fearsome presence, the K2 meter spiked on request as well when we asked John to do so, however nothing could match the ferocity of the coat hangars being thrown from the wardrobe.

On reflection there was no way the coat hangar could have been thrown by any of us in the vigil, and the way the remainder moved also, left us knowing that only unseen hands could have done this and the legend of John Peckett now had another chapter to add of his power and aggression.