When I was growing up I often heard people speak of Walker's Farm. Local teenagers used to bunk of school and hide out amidst the trees, spend summer evenings capturing newts in the stream, or simply explore the miles upon miles of wasteland. My older brothers used to come home speaking of Walker's Farm, arms full of tadpoles and newts to fill our garden pond with, and all in all it sounded like a pleasant place to be. It was not until I reached my late teens that I began to visit Walker's Farm for myself, and the time I spent on that farm will stay with me for as long as I live.
There are a number of events I would like to include in this post, all of which happened on Walker's Farm, and all of which happened over a period of about five years.
I would visit the farm often with friends, alone, to walk my dog or to explore on my push bike. I had seen a number of things on the farm already, shadows in the bushes, things crouching behind trees and a white mist which travelled along the hilltop on a perfectly clear summer afternoon. None of which had an impact on me quite like the following incidents.
Parts of the land had been sold on, houses had been built and there was now a road passing through part of where the farm used to be. However, the farm was still vast and for some reason there remained what I can only explain as a hut of some kind. I cannot be sure what it was used for, or really be sure what it was, but it was bizarre looking. It had tunnels at each side leading to opposite doorways. It had no windows, the walls were made from what looked like concrete and the flat roof was made from what looked like railway sleepers. This 'hut' played a huge part in what was seen on Walker's Farm, which I will explain later.
One night my friend and I headed out to walk my dog, it was a summer evening but fairly late so it was getting dark out. We turned down the street which now ran through Walker's Farm and had no intention of crossing over onto the remains of the farm. Instead we followed the road all the way through which took us to a very badly lit bike path. The path ran through a wood of pine trees, they were densely planted and you could see no further than a couple of feet in front of you. My dog, Nyla, was hesitant in walking down this path, pulling backwards and whimpering. She stalled what was no less than a dozen times until she gave in and literally pulled us through as fast as she could. We could see the exit of the track, thankfully, and as we approached it we heard a very loud cracking noise above our heads. My friend, Nyla and myself were all startled. Looking up we saw the tree top shaking. This was not caused by a bird or any small critter, there was no wind and the neighbouring trees were still. We heard another crack, and another, and we watched as the entire tree shook from top to base and heard each branch snap as something fell from above our heads. Eventually we heard an almighty thud as something hit the ground right next to us, only we saw nothing.
Whatever it was was not visible but it shot off and we watched the branches move as it ran through them into the darkness. All of this must have only lasted a few moments and we ran off in the other direction as soon as we could move our feet.
Months later a friend and I had gone back to Walker's Farm, we had been out to the cinema and decided to walk through the same street we had seen/heard something fall from the tree. It was late, around midnight, we were nowhere near the entrance to the farm but we heard a distant clanging sound. We could only describe it as metal on metal, as if a blacksmith was hard at work. We were both aware of the sound but figured it must have been coming from a distant garden or garage. The closer we came to the farm the louder it got, so loud it disrupted our conversation and we became curious of the noise that was now obviously coming from the farm. We both decided to walk to the top of the hill and when we reached it we were sure the noise was coming from inside the hut I mentioned earlier.
We were both confused at this point because we had both previously visited the old hut in daylight and there was nothing but old debris scattered around the floor, no lights were coming from it, it had no windows and it was hard enough to see in daylight so we imagined it must have been the epitome of darkness in there. We decided to go onto the farm, and get a little closer, purely driven by curiosity. We must have been one hundred yards away from the hut when all of a sudden the noise ceased. We stopped in our tracks and moments later we were both aware of something peering out from one of the tunnels, it was a dark figure but there was enough contrast to set it apart from the darkness of the farm. It was not a man, and I do not believe it was even human. The feeling I had was enough for me to be sure of that, terrified does not come close. We were stood there and we watched as it went back in and came back to peer around the corner at us a number of times. It was bigger than a normal man, it had a shape but I cannot say it was the silhouette of a human being. Its head was either a very strange shape or it had a hat on.
In hope of a reply my friend called out to the dark figure but that only made things worse. Another dark figure appeared at the feet of the first, it was peering at us just like the other, only this one looked much more animalistic. It was crouched over, on all fours, but again I cannot say for certain that it took the shape of anything I had seen before. This silhouette made a noise only describable as a snarling, growling, angry noise, but not that of a dog of any kind. At this point we fled, running back to the hill and over it as fast as possible. When we reached the street lights we looked back towards the hill to see the first figure stood watching us. It never left the grounds of the old farm, but it followed us along as far as it could go, we saw its head bobbing up and down amidst the trees. This drove us both to tears, that is how scared we were.
To this day I am adamant that what we saw was real, but I do not know what it was. It has always left me with a feeling I cannot really describe, as insane as it sounds I have never felt the same. I have researched Walker's Farm and found nothing about the actual farm. Everything I know is from people who were around when it was still a farm. The one thing I did find is that during the building of the road that runs through they had planned to build houses on some of the old unused fields. This never happened and there was never an explanation, only that building stopped and a six foot wall was built around the perimeter of the remaining farm, including the old hut.
I would appreciate any input into what people think this may be, or even if anyone has ever seen anything similar? Maybe it was Walker himself.
Could you give me a specific location for the farm?
(My ancestors were farming folk called Walker, from the Sculcoates/Kirk Ella area and I wondered if there is a family connection).
I am strongly inclined to the view that what you saw was an earth elemental - these can be truly terrifying, and can sometimes be linked to a specific location as a guardian - hence keeping to the boundaries of the old farm. The Romans also had a strong belief in the 'genius loci' (spirits of the place) and frequently erected altars to acknowledge and honour these beings.