This story pertains to my New Years Eve story, which does get a lot of jeers, but its a little more in depth to the events that happened prior. I've been meaning to put this up for the LONGEST time but having a growing kid around 24/7 has made it a bit difficult.
So, I've mentioned the cemetary called Masonic in St.Helen's, where my friend Ally lives, and that we'd visited it a few times prior to that New Year's Eve.
The first time we went up there with our friend Carson, and that time it was just after midnight when we arrived so we thought woo, prime time. Well, there's a long road that winds around the hill overlooking the rock quarry and as soon as we got to the gravel drive in front of it, all cell phones shut off and the car dies. We advance to the gate, say a prayer (I'm Catholic I blessed our journey and our souls), and we begin the hill trek. Not two minutes up the hill we hear shuffling behind us and we stop-nothing. We keep going and again, shuffling-this time we turn round and there's a solitary shadow standing in the middle of the road; it vanishes. We get to the top of the hill and were at the cemetary grounds; another prayer this time to the Preston plot, the only ground said to be safe at night there. As we stroll about, looking for any activity or other fun times, we hear rough shuffling and a growl. A deep, gutteral snarling and WISP sound.
Caraon-a big, tough Marine Guy imagine this-gets jittery and points to the headstones farthest from us and closest to the trees (this is in the middle of a forest) and we see a human like shape crouch by the stone, and it darts from stone to stone before coming to the center of two and standing up. Now, we're terrified, of course. Another growl, and I swear the weather just...changed
It was a calm summer night but then it was cold and breezy. We say F it and start a hurried walk-local folklore states that running just angers the spirits more-down the hill. Carson looks back and its gone.
But its still cold and the atmosphere is...unwelcoming.
Now, we get away and get our car going, but as we leave the gate, which we closed, rattles vigorously before everything goes calm.
The second time we go up there, it was with our friend Randy this time, the beginning is the same but this time on the grounds, I get so sick feeling and faint that I can't stand up on my own, and there's this pressure on me, it's a crushing feeling like a deep sea diver would feel. Its not uncommon for people to experience what we did-the story goes that only Masons are buried there and only Masons are welcome on the grounds and that to protect the grounds, a malevolent spirit-thought to be a large man- hangs around. He's been caught on EVP (prior visits) saying things like "go away", "get out of here" and people have been brought to tears by sudden emotions of deep depression and angst. Mark, we think that's his name, and though it's scary, I think he's trapped to be honest. I think he was a bad person during his life, and now in his death he's overprotective and mean.
I'm glad I finally got to post this, its one of my best stories, and I'd really like other people's input on it.
I know the days are always cold, were a sad, damp place, but this was a strange cold. A brief,'angry' cold as my friend put it.