It was Halloween. We were all huddled in a circle, telling ourselves scary stories. True stories that happened to us for real!! This is Maurice’s tale.
The Banshee of Glen Path Hill (from Maurice)
A few years ago, we stopped for a few nights in the village of K, on the way back from visiting friends in Kingston. It was a very old, picturesque place with ancient gothic houses, which the fall weather suited perfectly. We enjoyed immensely walking along the long avenues of big gnarly trees, in the pale golden glow of the autumn leaves. When the rain was too much for us, we either went into a coffee shop, or some other warm, comfortable place. That’s how we came to visit a small museum of local legends and myths.
It was beyond interesting. The museum was quite empty of visitors except us, so the old man who was keeping the place accompanied us during our tour, and added quite a lot of anecdotes and stories to an already fascinating subject.
The highlight of the museum was a wall dedicated to “The Banshee of Glen Path Hill”. There was some information about the legend of the Banshee, a lot of accounts and testimonies of people who had seen or heard the Banshee, and the picture of the house where she was supposed to dwell.
At once, Tee (the Tyrex) and I were fascinated by that house. It looked just as you imagine it. Abandoned, slightly in ruin, impossible to sell or rent, avoided by the neighbours, plagued by rumours of lights moving during the night and screams echoing in the distance.
“Is it possible to visit it?” asked Tee.
The man visibly paled.
“No, certainly not! It must not be disturbed.”
And he changed the subject, refusing to talk about the Banshee.
As we got out of the museum, delighted by what we had seen, Tee and I speculated about the house. Where could it be, could we see it, how could we know where it was, etc.
“We can go there if you want to see it, said Blue. It’s not very far from the B&B.”
We were stupefied. How did she know where it was? She looked mildly surprised:
“It’s just a wild guess, she said, but if she’s called “the Banshee of Glen Path Hill” and there is a street in the old town called Glen Path Hill, maybe the house is on that street? Then again, maybe not!”
Of course, she was right, the house was there, and it was glorious.
The wild garden, darkened with rain, looked as if it was trying to devour the crumbling walls. Warning painted in red, half erased, obscured the broken dirty panes left in the decaying windows. Something sinister seemed to emanate from every blood-colored eroded brick. I felt strongly called towards it, and couldn’t get it out of my mind for the rest of the day.
It was in the restaurant, later that night, that I said:
“We should go into the banshee’s house tonight!”
Tee said he had exactly the same thing on his mind, and couldn’t think of anything else. We needed to go into that house, he said. Tonight.
I saw the disapproval in Blue’s face immediately.
“You don’t have to come with us if you’re scared, Blue. You can just wait for us in the B&B.
-It’s not the problem! You’d be trespassing, Maurice!!
-Oh come on, it’s an abandoned house.
-The man told us not to disturb it!!”
I didn’t push it. We mocked her a bit, saying that she was just a chicken and similar pleasantries, and she just kept disapproving more and more. When she went up to her bedroom that night, she warned us:
“Don’t do anything stupid!! I will NOT come and help you this time!!”
We chuckled.
Of course, we should have listened to Blue. At the time, it just appeared like a nice Halloween adventure, coupled with the fascination the house exercised on us.
Our preparations only took a couple of minutes. It was already late when we went out, and the streets were dark and empty. For some reason, it took us a good half hour to get to the house, which was quite peculiar, because sooner in the day, with Blue and her map, it only had taken us a few minutes. We felt as if the House itself was giving us a warning. Sadly, we didn’t heed it.
The street was empty and quiet. Leaves were rustling, trees were creaking. Far in the distance, a dog was barking. We lit the light on our phones and stepped into the unkempt garden.
The rain had barely stopped, and the moon was dimly sending a few rays through passing clouds, showing us a halting path past fallen trees and overgrown weeds. Advancing slowly, we arrived at the back door and realized that it was closed, but unlocked. We opened it easily enough and crept in the musty interior of the house.
Our torches lit a dilapidated kitchen. We had the disquieting feeling that things were scurrying away from the beams of rough light as we slowly advanced on the filthy, squalid floor, towards the door that was facing us. It opened with a scraping sound on a long corridor.
The wallpaper was peeling on places, and the rotten board underneath our feet threatened to give way. The whole place was silent, and at the same time was creaking and sputtering in the most dreadful way. We could hear and feel drops, and the putrid smell was almost choking us.
At the end of the corridor, there was another door. But as I was about to push it, I felt Tee’s hand grabbing my arm and he whispered in my ear:
“Did you hear that?”
I was about to retort to him not to be a chicken, when I suddenly heard it too.
The noise was barely stronger than the creaking of the house, and we had to strain to hear it, but at the same time it was horribly clear.
Tap, drag. Tap, drag.
Footsteps. Uneven, but very regular footsteps.
“What do we do? Asked Tee in a strangled hiss.
-I don’t know!!
-Let’s go back!!!
-I’m sure it’s nothing!!”
We would certainly have gone on arguing, when the sound ceased. We breathed.
Our sigh of relief was not even over when at once, the whole house resonated with the most blood-curdling, inhumane, unearthly shriek I have ever heard. The wailing was so horrendous that I couldn’t help but scream myself, overwhelmed by the fear and revulsion brought on by it. My heart stopped beating and lodged itself in my throat, and it took me a few precious seconds before I felt Tee pulling me towards the kitchen. Then, in a blind panic, we ran.
By the time we got in the kitchen, the scream had ceased, but the soft footsteps had started again, and were getting closer.
We rushed further, and, confused by our fright, we dashed through the wrong door: it was the door to the cellar, not to the garden. We realized it too late, as Tee, surprised by the first step, rolled down the basement stairs and noisily crashed into the opposite wall. Outside, in the corridor, I could hear the steps growing louder.
Tap, drag. Tap, drag.
I bolted the door with shaking hands, blocked it however I could, and ran downstairs to Tee, helping him up.
There was nothing but the cold wall streaming with damp behind us. We were trapped. There was no other opening in the cellar, and the only light came from the phone that I could barely hold up in my paralyzing fear. We could see rats scurrying in the glaring ray, and sometimes feel a soft crunching underneath our feet as, in our fear-induced frenzy, we stepped on a poisoned one. The battery beeped. We were running out of light. There was no way out.
Upstairs, the step went on. Tap, drag, tap, drag… Closer and closer…
The light went out.
Tee and I clung to each other. I could feel his halting breathing in my neck, and I have no shame in admitting that, in the pitch black darkness, tears streamed down my face.
Tap, drag, tap, drag, and stop.
The rats suddenly stopped running. I could only hear my own heart pounding against my chest.
Slowly, very slowly, the door of the cellar started to move on its hinges, in a dreadful creak. Yes, the door we just had locked and blocked from the inside, this very door was opening and letting in a pale sickly light in our cell. It was not only light getting in. There was a shape blocking the light. Lanky, disheveled, the shape grew as the door opened, and the creature let out a screech so awful, I think I lost consciousness for a few seconds, and was only left standing because of the support of the wall, and Tee on my left.
We could see the terrifying malevolent red eyes glowing in the semi darkness, and the repugnant smell of the creature, as she was preparing to scream again, almost made me sick, but instead of screaming, she paused, seemed to listen attentively to something – at the same time I heard it too: someone was knocking at the front door.
The creature disappeared.
We were saved.
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Maurice stopped.
“And… that’s it?? Asked Charles. How?? What?? Who knocked?
-I don’t want to tell the rest, muttered Maurice. If I stop here, it’s a good story, isn’t it?
-Well yes it is, but we want to know how you were saved exactly!!! Go on!
-But it will spoil everything!”
Everybody demanded the end of the story, so Maurice sighed and started again.
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“We have to get out of here, whispered Tee.” So we slowly went up the cellar stairs, and listened carefully.
The front door was being pushed open.
“Oh hello!! Said a cheery voice in the distance. So sorry to bother you at this time of night and all, I’m looking for two of my friends, and I am quite worried they may be trespassing in your home.”
Tee and I gaped at each other. It was Blue, no mistake about that.
We heard no answer. Then Blue voice sounded again, clear and happy as usual:
“Thank you very much. Are you, ahem, the resident Banshee? If it’s not a disagreeable appellation for you, that is.”
This time, after a pause, we heard one of those frightful piercing screams. It seemed to last so long that once again, I almost lost my senses, and I was only brought back by Tee’s hand digging deep into my skin.
“She got Blue, Maurice, she got Blue!!!” he moaned.
My heart sank and I felt a wave of despair submerge me, when we heard the familiar voice, just as lively as before:
“Oh I say, that was a proper blood-curdling scream, that was!! You’re so good at it!! My blood is all curdled, it is!!”
And I swear, she even giggled.
“Isn’t it tough on the vocal cords, though?” She asked, and we could hear a soft note of commiseration in her voice.
We started creeping up the stairs again, and this time we could hear some sort of gurgle in answer.
“Well, I’m not surprised. Do you want a lozenge? Let me see… I have Lemon and Honey, a classic, but I don’t like them much myself, or Blackcurrant, my favourite. There you go. Oh, no, you can keep the whole box, please do, with your job, you need them more than I do!”
Another giggle.
“You’re very welcome.”
Some gurgling.
“Yes, I’m very sorry about my friends. I brought tea, as a peace offering, an apology you know, I wonder if you want some?”
…
“Yes, with sandwiches!”
….
“No, sorry, I don’t have smoked salmon, but I have trout and cress, they are not bad, if you like that sort of thing!”
******************************************
Silence fell once again on the horror-struck assembly.
“And…. what happened?
-What do you think happened? Groaned Maurice. We had tea with the Banshee, that’s what happened!
-And she ate all the sandwiches!! Moaned the Tyrex. Blue wouldn’t let me have even one!”
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