I live in a small town, south of England. It's the kind of town where everyone is close knit, they help others out and stories are often exchanged about the history of the town, the most well-known story is about The Heath.
The Heath is a huge pond, surrounded by acres of grassland and hills; it's on the outskirts of our town. It's almost treated like a beach, on sunny days locals flock to the grass and sand, lay their towels out and absorb the heat, but when it gets colder, and darker, it becomes overgrown, and is rarely visited.
The story I was talking about revolves around a hill in The Heath, we call it "Hangers Hill", the story changes when different people tell it, but the basics are the same, and lots of people have their own personal experiences to add to it. Basically the hill was used to hang people years ago, many people were wrongly accused and executed for things they hadn't done. Many of the experiences people have had at Hangers Hill involve a ditch to the side of the hill, they say they hear choking and spluttering, almost like someone gasping for air, when they go to the ditch a man will appear by the tree right in the middle of the hill. He'll tilt his head back and look up at the tree, and then he'll leave. Though this isn't what happened when I visited the hill.
Last year me and a few friends (Rob, Lisa, and Lewis) decided to test this out, we were all around 17/18 and extremely interested in the paranormal. It was January, and it was already dark at around 6. We set out to The Heath with the plan to camp out on Hangers Hill and see what we could find. I parked my car in a dirt road leading to the back of The Heath.
We were walking towards the hill when we saw a women walking her dog, she approached us and started talking to us, just being friendly (small town syndrome ha-ha). After a few minutes she asked us what we were doing there, Rob told her that we just wanted to know if the stories about Hangers Hill are true. That's when her face dropped, it was like her whole body language changed, she was suddenly defensive or worried, and I'm not sure which. She looked at him, really seriously, and said "You know what you've been told". She then called her dog over and made an excuse pretty quickly about leaving, so we carried on walking to the hill.
As soon as we got there we started to pitch the tent on top of the hill, it was freezing and I was sure we would be driving home in the middle of the night purely from the weather. We waited around outside for a few hours and heard nothing, so we got in our tent and tried to get warm. That's when it all started. We started hearing digging, not like a fox, but like a spade, it was the sharp scrape of metal against rock, then a squelch as it was lifted and thrown. We got out of the tent as fast as we could so we could see if there was anything visually happening, the noise cut off and it was silent again.
We sat on a log that was right on top of the hill, next to the tree where the man apparently stands, and we waited again, after only about 5 minutes, the noise started again, it sounded so close, like it was right next to us, but there was nothing in view that could have been making that noise. We were listening to it for a few minutes, just shocked at what we were hearing, and then it stopped again.
We waited for about 90 minutes, just listening out for that noise; we barely said anything to each other, other than expressing our shock in not so lovely words ha-ha. After a while of nothing happening I got up and me and Lewis went for a walk round the pond, as we were walking round the dirt path, we turned a corner, the sides of the path were thickly padded with bushes, and the pond side had two huge willow trees, overhanging the pond and creating a clearing, it was beautiful and I felt gravitated towards it, Lewis grabbed my arm and I stopped in my tracks when I saw it.
There was a man crouched over the water, washing his face, or drinking, it was like 1am at this point. He didn't acknowledge us, it was like we were in two different worlds and he didn't see us, he was wearing a white/grey button shirt, and brownish trousers with no shoes, his skin was the most pale skin I have ever seen, like so white it was almost translucent. He started to get up, the strange thing was, the rest of the time while he was washing his face, I hadn't been scared, but as soon as he started getting up the whole atmosphere changed, I was scared, I felt like I was in danger, or like I was intruding on something, just so unwelcome. I and Lewis started to back away, I was almost running backwards because I wanted to be back by the tent, with my friends, but I needed to see what was happening at the same time, all that happened after he got up was that he moved into the thick bushes opposite the clearing, no branches moved.
We ran back to the tent and got all our stuff, we still go back there in the day and talk about it, never again in the night though!
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