Last Halloween our reporter Wendy Shivers went to spend a night in a real haunted house. Did she get spooked? Did Wendy shiver? Well find out now as we bring you her exclusive report as she recorded it; after her terrifying experience at Grimacre Manor!
So for Halloween I'm going to spend a night in a real haunted house. I'm not scared or anything; I don't believe in ghouls, ghosties or long legged beasties and things that go bump in the night. I'm a down to earth kind of girl; my feet well and truly planted in the land of the living, not the land of the living dead!
As I travelled through the countryside in my trusty little car, a wonderful little Ford Fiesta; which has never let me down since I purchased it in 1992, I suddenly came to a halt. The fucking car had chosen today - of all days - to let me down! What a bugger! Then I noticed that I'd run out of petrol. Silly me, I guess in all the excitement and expectation of going to visit a real haunted house I'd forgotten to put petrol in my car. Luckily I noticed a garage just a bit down the road, so being quite a strong girl (not butch or lesbian or anything - just strong!) I got out and began to push.
There was a strange man sitting in the forecourt of the garage when I arrived, who just stood there and watched me as I laboured to push my car up to one of the pumps. It was one of those small petrol stations with just the two pumps. I was greeted by the odd-looking man, who had an eye patch over one eye, a nervous tick in the other and who walked with a limp.
'Petrol?' he asked me as he hobbled towards me.
'Yes, please,' I said to him. 'And I wonder whether you could help me?'
'Sure, anything to help a lady,' he said, leaning into my car and eyeing my legs. I was wearing my short Lycra skirt and when it rides up - it can have quite an effect on men!
'I wonder if you could tell me how to get to Grimacre Manor?' I asked.
'Grimacre Manor miss?' He narrowed his eyes.
'Yes, I'm due there to meet up with some people.'
'The only people you'll meet up with at Grimacre Manor young miss, is dead 'uns,' he told me dramatically.
'Oh, so you believe the stories about the place being haunted?' I asked him.
'They're no stories miss. There's a curse on that place, an evil curse, I only spent one night there once and I ended up like this.'
I ignored him, he was obviously the local loony. Then I showed him my map, 'I've got a map here, can you show me on the map, how to get there?' I asked him.
He snatched it off me like a madman and ripped it up, scattering the pieces into the air.
'What did you do that for?' I asked.
'You don't want to find you're way up there, believe me miss. Go back. Go back while you still can.'
This man seemed very frightened of what was up there at that old house.
'I'm telling you not to go up there for your own sake. If you do, it'll be the biggest mistake of your life,' he told me and then added, 'that'll be ten pounds miss.'
I handed him a tenner, he grabbed it off me and held it up to the light and then quickly pocketed it.
'I sell maps too miss,' he told me with a crooked smile.
'Well,' I told him, 'luckily I have a spare in case of emergencies; such as having your map ripped to shreds by the local loony.'
'You may call me a loony miss, but if you've any sense you'll turn that car of yours around and go right on back home.'
He leaned up from my window, took one last look at my legs and then my breasts, licked his lips, and then positioned himself in front of the car.
'I'm begging you: go back!' he shouted. Holding his hands out towards me, palms outwards.
'Stand out of the way!' I shouted to him.
'I'm not going to let you go; you can either run me down miss or turn back, it's up to you.'
I revved my engine and he scarpered from in front of my vehicle.
'I thought you said: I either run you down or turn back? I've opted for running you down, you stupid little man! Get back in front of my car then I can do so!'
I gave a laugh; pleased at myself for getting one up on this nutter.
'Please ... I'm begging you ... don't go up there ... they'll get you!'
'Who'll get me?'
'The spirits, they're evil!'
I put my foot down and sped off. What a dick, I thought.
'So that's Grimacre Manor,' I said to myself as I stood at the gates some moments later gazing at the big old house in the near distance. The manor had been just a mere half-mile down the road from the petrol station where I'd left the drooling maniac.
'Yes it sure is,' said a voice that seemed to come from nowhere.
I looked around but couldn't see anyone and became suddenly unerved.
'Who said that?' I asked.
A man then suddenly appeared, as if from thin air.
'Where did you spring from?' I asked him.
'I was just standing over there,' he told me.
'I didn't notice anyone stood there.'
'I was very quiet. May I ask your business around these here parts?' he enquired.
'It depends who you are.'
'I'm Jake Dunn.'
'You must be Mrs Dunn, the housekeeper's, husband,' I said and then looking at the huge padlocked gate added, 'Why is the gate chained up - to stop people getting in?'
'More a matter,' he said raising an eyebrow, 'of keeping things in.'
'Can you unlock it and let me in?' I asked.
'Are you sure you want to go up there?'
'Not you as well.'
'What do you mean?'
'I've just had a run in with a very queer fellow at the gas station.'
'That'll be Jed, he is a bit ... queer. Has boy scouts up there a lot; gangs of them. I've said to the missus, it's not natural for a grown man to spend so much time with young nubile boys like that.'
'Is there something wrong with everybody round here? Why is everyone frightened of a little old house?' I asked him.
'It's not the house theyre frightened of miss, it's what's inside that their scared of.'
'Why ... what's inside?'
'Well my missus for a start,' he said offering a laugh. 'Sorry miss, just my little joke.'
'What's inside,' I pushed. 'Evil spirits?'
'How do you know about spirits?'
'I'm a reporter; I'm spending a night in Grimacre Manor to find out whether or not it is in fact haunted as people say it is.'
'It is miss, believe me. You don't want to be up at the manor after dark, that's one thing thats for sure.'
'I'm not frightened of the dead.'
'Well if you're intent on going up there miss, there's nothing I can do to stop you - but on your own head be it.'
He walked towards the gate and I heard him mutter under his breath, 'If you can keep it long enough that is.'
'What was that you just said?' I asked him.
'I said,' he shouted back, 'I'll just unlock the gate.' Although I knew what hed really said.
He reluctantly unlocked the padlock and pulled the heavy chain from around the gate and then watched as I drove through the wrought iron gates and up the gravel path towards the manor. As I did so, I peered into my rear-view mirror and saw him standing there watching me. Then I don't know whether it was my imagination playing tricks on me or not, but he just seemed to vanish!
As I was driving up to the house and I saw the gothic monstrosity towering above me, I must admit the place did give me the willies. It resembled one of those houses from those old black and white horror films.
The door of the manor opened to a large hall. I hadn't been able to get a reply when I'd knocked and when I tried the door I found it open; so, as I was expected I stepped inside. I was just admiring the paintings hung in the hall when a woman's voice came from behind me, 'Hello ... hello, Miss ... Shivers?'
I spun round to see a middle-aged woman stood smiling at me. 'You must be the housekeeper, Mrs Dunn? You gave me quite a start,' I said to her.
'That's nothing compared to the frights you'll get here if you stay the night,' she said.
'Not you too; I've already had an ear bashing from the gas station attendant and your husband.'
'My husband?' she asked, a puzzled look crossing her face.
'Yes, he unlocked the gate and let me in,' I informed her.
'But my husband died two years ago,' she said.
'Died?' Now it was my turn to wear a puzzled expression. 'Well who was that at the gate?'
'There's no one at the gate miss.'
'There was a man, he unlocked the gates,' I said. I was genuinely spooked now.
'The gates are already unlocked; I unlocked them myself because I knew people were coming up here. It must have been your imagination my dear.'
'I'm sorry to hear about your husband,' I told Mrs Dunn. 'What did he die of?'
'Fright,' she said bluntly. 'He died of fright.' Then she looked around the massive hall and added, 'In this very house.'
The two ghostbusters I knew would be arriving, I found had already arrived at the house when Mrs Dunn showed me into the dining room. One greeted me and introduced himself as George, while the other fiddled with his equipment.
'That's Mike,' George told me, introducing his colleague.
'I see you've brought your equipment,' I called over to Mike.
'Yeah,' he said looking up towards me. 'I've got my probe ready,' he added, showing me it. 'If there's any ghosts around, this will start flashing red at the end.'
I gave his probe the once over and as he held it out towards me his end started flashing!
'Has it detected a ghost?' I asked the man.
'No, I'm having problems with it, bought it at Currys; they were having a sale on in ghost detectors.'
'Did you keep your receipt?' George asked Mike.
'Yeah, got a guarantee with it too.'
'Well it mustn't be working properly, I'm no ghost,' I said with a smile.
'No you're certainly not, you're a warm-blooded woman no mistaking,' George said eyeing me.
'Thank you,' I said.
Just at that moment the huge chandelier, that was suspended directly above me, came crashing down.
'Look out!' said George and dived at me, pushing me out of its way.
I looked at the chandelier and then at George lying on top of me.
'You saved my life, how will I ever be able to repay you?'
'Oh ... I'm sure I could think of something,' he said, getting off me and rising to his feet, then helping me up.
'This house doesnt like you,' said Mike to me.
'Doesn't like me?' I said. 'Why, what's wrong with me?'
'Well ... I wasn't going to say anything but ... you've got a big nose,' Mike told me.
I felt my nose. 'I've not got a big nose.'
'And your eyes are crooked,' Mike added.
'Well I for one ...' began George, giving me the once over, 'think you're a very gorgeous-looking woman.'
'Well you would, you're after a jump,' commented Mike and I think I blushed. It's not unusual for men to find me attractive; in a certain light I resemble a young Michelle Pfeiffer.
'I can assure you,' George said to me, 'that ...'
'You're after a jump!' finished Mike.
'I'm after a ... no!' George said. Now I was blushing; I could feel my cheeks warming against the chill of the room. 'Take no notice of my colleague Miss Shivers, he's sex mad!'
'Look who's talking!' Mike commented.
Later that night, when we'd all gone to our rooms, there was a knock on my door and George entered.
'Are you decent?'
'Yes, I said.
'Pity,' he said under his breath.
'Oh, nothing. Settling in okay?'
'Yes fine thanks.'
He came and sat on the bed next to me and edge as close as he could to me.
'Fancy a ...' he began.
'What?' I asked.
'A pickled onion sandwich?' he said producing one from the brown paper bag he had brought in with him.
'No thanks; I don't like pickled onions.'
He seemed hurt by this; as if giving me one of his pickled onion sandwiches meant the world to him.
It was then that there was a banging - a loud banging!
;What's that?' I said.
'I don't know.' George replied.
He walked over to the door into the hall, turned the knob and tugged on it.
'It's ... locked.'
'Yes, how queer.'
He came back over to me and sat beside me again.
'Would you like me to hold you?' he asked.
'No, I'm alright.'
He ignored me and held me.
'There, there dear,' he said, arms round me and kissing my forehead.
'It's alright,' I told him. 'I'm not frightened.'
'There, there my love,' he continued.
'No really, it's okay, I'm not scared or anything; there's probably a perfectly logical explanation.'
'There is, it's a restless spirit and ... after the incident downstairs ... I think it's after you!'
'I thought you said there was nothing to be frightened of!'
'I meant, me; there's nothing for me to be frightened of. But you, you're up the proverbial shit creek without a paddle!'
'But don't worry, I'll protect you,' he said, increasing his hold on me.
Then as suddenly as the banging had commenced, it ceased.
'It's stopped now, you can let go,' I told George.
'Oh damn ... er ... I mean ...'
Reluctantly he let go of me but he still wasn't going to give up.
'Would you like me to stay with you here tonight; in your room; I mean okay: we'll share the same bed but I promise I won't touch you or anything or try to ... you know ... because I'm a gentleman,' he said.
'No, I'll be okay,' I told him.
'No, I'm afraid I have to insist on staying with you tonight ... er ... in bed? With you?' he insisted.
'You can have the bed, I'll sleep in the chair,' I suggested.
'No, I couldn't possibly let a lady sleep in a chair all night; while I languish in the lap of luxury in a nice warm bed.'
'I insist you take the bed,' I told him. 'I didn't want to run the risk of falling asleep and have him creep in beside me during the night; it was obvious that the guy was after me.'
'Alright then,' he said.
He walked over to the door again and I could have sworn he slipped a key into the lock and unlocked it, then pretended to try it again and it opened.
'That's queer,' he said. 'I guess our mischievous spirit is playing tricks on us.'
'Or you're after a jump,' I said under my breath.
'Oh, nothing,' I said and smiled.
'Funny about the door though, being like that.'
'It is queer, yes,' I agreed.
'Not as queer as something I've just thought of; involving two men, Vaseline and a rubber duck.'
'No, I agree; it's not as queer as that!' I agreed.
We went into the hall.
'I wonder if the others heard it?'
We knocked on the door of Mike's room and entered. He was on the bed making love to a male blow up doll!
'Sorry old chap,' said George.
'Shit!' exclaimed Mike, his eyes widening in horror at being discovered in this rather uncompromising act.
George closed the door.
'Now that is queer!' he said to me.
Mike appeared at the door, hurriedly pulling up his trousers.
'Look, I can explain I'm not gay!'
'I don't want to know - what you do behind closed doors is no business of mine.'
'Did you hear the banging?' I asked Mike; keen to know whether he had heard those awful eerie sounds too.
'Yes, we heard a banging,' said George.
'Sorry, I'll try to keep the noise down next time,' Mike apologised.
'No not that - a loud banging sound.' George explained.
Then as if waiting for a cue it began again, this time it seemed to be coming from downstairs.
'There it goes again,' I said.
'It's coming from downstairs, come on, bring the detector,' instructed George.
When we reached the downstairs hall we decided that it seemed to be coming from the cellar. Grasping our nerves, George opened the door for us and we began to make our descent.
'My end's going mad,' said Mike suddenly as we were about halfway down.
'Is that all you can think of, getting back upstairs to your love doll?' George cursed.
'Not that end; this end!' Mike said pointing to the probe of his ghost detector.
Then it stopped flashing, 'Of all the times to conk out,' Mike said. 'That's it, I'm taking this back to Currys first thing Monday morning.'
The banging had also stopped but just then the lights went out.
'The lights have gone out,' commented Mike.
'I know the blasted lights have gone out,' snapped George.
'Has anyone got a torch?' I said helpfully.
'I've got a torch,' Mike said.
'Well get it out man ... the torch I mean,' said George.
'It's upstairs, in my room,' Mike explained.
'What good is it there?' spat George, clearly annoyed with his colleagues incompetence.
'Sorry,' Mike said.
Then someone or something grabbed my bum.
'Who did that?' I asked.
'Who did what?' George asked.
'Grab my bum,' I enquired.
Then I felt another pinch on my bottom.
'There it was again,' I said.
'I did that,' said George.
'Why did you pinch my bum?'
'You said grab my bum!'
'No I was explaining that someone or something grabbed my bum before.'
'Well that wasn't me.'
'I wouldn't put it past him,' Mike quipped.
'Well you've certainly no need to talk - you and that doll!'
'You're never going to let me forget that are you?'
'It certainly wasn't me the first time my dear, I assure you, but if you'd like me to pinch it again just to make sure theres a difference,' George suggested.
'No I believe you,' I told him.
Then it grabbed hold of me. And, whatever it was, got me to the ground and began removing my skirt; I could smell its hot breath all over my body as it undressed me.
I kept shouting, 'Somethings got me! Somethings got me!'
'Where are you?' I heard Mike cry out. His voice seemed miles away in the distance.
'I'm over hear.' My own voice sounded distant too.
Then the ... ghost or whatever it was that had hold of me, entered me. At first it was really horrible but then I quite got to like it and stopped crying out for help.
The two men had gone quiet now as I was subjected to the assault. And then the thing, or whatever it was that had pinned me down to the ground and had its wicked way with me, left me and I hurriedly pulled my skirt up.
Then the lights came on. I noticed that George had a grin on his face and kept staring at me; beads of sweat ran down his forehead.
'What are you grinning at?' I asked him.
'Why, nothing; just pleased to see that you are all right, you gave us quite a start there crying out like that in the dark.'
I noticed that his fly was undone and he seemed to notice me looking, because he glanced down and did himself up. Then he grinned at me again and I remember thinking how odd it was that he was grinning at me in that manner and that his fly had been undone.
'I was attacked,' I told the pair.
'Attacked?' George asked.
'Well ... yes, at first,' I told them.
'So ... what happened?' Mike wanted to know.
'Oh ... nothing,' I said. I didn't want to tell these men of my ordeal; I was embarrassed that, there, in the room with them, I'd had sex with a ghost!
'What was all that shouting and panting about?' Mike wanted to know.
'What do you mean?' I asked.
'Well you kept crying out: "Oh yes, yes, oh god yes!"'
'Did I? ... well, I panicked ... you know what women are like in the dark,' I said by way of an explanation.
'Yes I do,' said George and grinned at me again.
It was a strange thing to say and it still puzzles me why he said it.
So there you are, that's my report. Whether you believe it or not, something strange happened to me in that cellar and it was very unpleasant ... well, at first!
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