Bridgers Folly

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Bridger’s Folly2

Tom Bridger, better known to his workmates and friends as Tam, had been a{ leerie} or lamplighter for eighteen years, it was the only job that held any kind of appeal for him despite the fact that he had only one full weekend off in the month.3

The rest of the time it was either a Saturday or a Sunday, so when he had what he referred to as his long weekend, he and some of his neighbours who were also his drinking buddies, would meet in one or other of their homes to play cards.4

With the week’s work over, Tom Bridger along with Jim Muir and Alex Beaton were preparing to settle down to their one great passion in life, playing cards.5

The date was October 31st 1946, Halloween night.6

This time it was Tom’s turn to play host, the trio switched the venue each time they met as this kept two of the three wives happy.7

It meant that their homes would be tidy at the end of the night, with no cigarette ends and empty beer bottles to clean up. 8

The wives as always when their men gathered to play cards would go along to the local picture house, dropping the children off to be looked after by relatives living nearby.9

The grey sandstone tenement that the families shared overlooked an ancient graveyard on the other side of the street; this in itself had over the years leant to a great many ghost stories, particularly at this time of the year. It was said that on Halloween night that not all of the guisers walking the streets were human.10

With the woman out of the way the trio settled down to play cards, the night was going nicely, with the winnings spread evenly between the three men. What more could they ask for? There was good company, a share of good fortune, and sandwiches and beer to hand.11

For over an hour they had managed successfully to ignore the noise from hopeful’s who rattled the letterbox on the front door, or rapped on the living room windows in the hope of a Halloween treat.12

However that would change as the evening wore on.13

After a couple of hours Jim Muir was starting to get the worse for wear as the stock of beers disappeared down their throats, he was also losing quite heavily now, and the constant knocking on the front door was doing nothing to enhance his mood.14

He had just lost a reasonable sized pot when someone clambered onto the windowsill behind him, and started to bang on the window pane.15

Cursing loudly he got to his fee and pushed his chair back so violently that it smashed into the wall behind him, his face contorted in anger he turned towards the window. Grabbing hold of the brass finger rings he raised the lower half of the frame and slammed it upwards, almost taking it off its hinges.16

Shoving his head and shoulders through the opening he scowled, looking left and right for the culprits, but only the sound of running feet and childish laughter could be heard.17

Leaning even further out he let rip with a string of obscenities finishing with, “come back here again you noise little buggers and I’ll give you something for your Halloween, and it won’t be bloody monkey nuts either”.18

Getting up from the table Tom crossed to the window in an attempt to placate the irate Jim Muir, placing an arm around his shoulder said quietly, “come on Jim, it’s only the local kids enjoying themselves”.19

Turning to face Tom he took a deep breath, “you’re right he said a little sheepishly, I’m sorry”.20

” Tell you what lads he said, let’s take a break, chill out and have a few beers” Pour everyone a whiskey” he said to Alex Beaton, the third member of the trio. 21

After half an hour they ran out of beer. “We’ll have to send out for some more Tom said, is there any money left in the drinks kitty he asked? Jim Muir nodded, “there’s still a few quid left” he replied, now more composed after his earlier outburst. 22

“What do you say we forget about the cards for tonight Tom said glancing at the big clock on the mantelshelf, if we leave now we’ll just about make the last hour in the pub. Back then the pubs closed at 9-30. The others readily agreed as their interest in the card game was by now dead, putting on their coats they lifted the money from the table and left the house. Standing in the street they debated briefly the quickest way to their destination, the night was chilly with more than a hint of fog creeping in.23

“If we don’t get there quickly Jim Muir said we’ll be lucky to get more than a couple of drinks each.”24

“Tell you what he said, to save a bit of time let’s cut through the graveyard; it’s the quickest way to get to where were going. 25

For a moment the other two looked at each other, not sure whether or not they had heard him right26

“In case you have forgotten Jim Alex Beaton reminded him, it’s Halloween night”. There was a brief silence, then Jim Muir started to laugh, “don’t tell me that two grown men like yourselves believe in ghosts and ghouls, and beside, it won’t be the first time that we’ve crossed it at night”.27

“Yes Tom said, but that was on the way back from the pub when we were full of a different kind of spirit, and then glanced towards Alex Beaton for support. 28

“Come on Jim said impatiently, times a wasting.” 29

Placing both hands on top of the low wall in front of him he lifted himself up and over, “last one there buys the drinks” he yelled. With that vanished into the darkness. 30

The other two stood looking at each other the gauntlet had been well and truly thrown down, finally climbing over the wall they stood for a moment letting their eyes adjust to the surrounding darkness, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.31

“Come on Alex Tom said a little tersely, let’s go”. 32

Picking out the shape of the path nearest to them the men set of at a fast trot, their eyes fixed firmly on the street lights four hundred yards away on the far side of the graveyard, of Jim Muir there was no sign. 33

Alex Beaton ran behind Tom, he would have preferred to have been up front leading instead of being the back marker, but the path was too narrow for them to run two abreast. As a result all the way across the black expanse of the graveyard that was now shrouded in mist, the urge to look behind him was almost irresistible. 34

He did not really believe in ghosts, but what if somewhere in the darkness behind them there was something unholy tracking them, and getting nearer with every step? 35

What if there was an open grave waiting to trap the unwary and they fell into it? God alone knows what would happen to them. 36

Thirty yards from the boundary wall the path widened and he was at last able to run alongside Tom, at least he thought rather selfishly, if there were something following them it was now fifty–fifty to who it would get first. 37

The relief in both men when they reached the far side of the graveyard was almost overwhelming; all the way across, owing to the thickening fog they really had to keep their wits about them. On reaching the boundary wall, both men were up and over it in a flash. 38

Dropping to the ground they made their way into the welcoming warmth of the pub, when they entered Jim Muir was standing at the bar and already had the drinks in. “What kept you two he said grinning broadly, you had me worried for a while”. 39

The hour or so spent in the heady atmosphere of the pub seemed to fly by, and by the end of it their earlier experience of getting to the Coffin Bar, so called because of its shape and location next to the graveyard; was almost forgotten. 40

Buoyed up by the amount of alcohol drunk over the evening, the return trip home taking the same route was now being talked about, and all earlier thoughts of ghosts and open graves, was all but forgotten about.41

The trio on emerging from the coffin bar were not quite legless, but the amount drank in the bar on top of what they had already consumed in Tom Bridger’s home, was making its effects felt. 42

Further along the street they stopped to light their cigarettes, and like most drunks they were beginning to feel invincible. 43

“Well who’s up for the return trip” Jim Muir asked, as they reached the set of heavy wrought iron gates that dominated the gray brick wall. There was no hesitation this time on the part of the other two, “alright let’s do it” Alex Beaton said, and was the first to climb up and over the gate. 44

The streetlights were bright enough to show the wide sweeping path leading to the right that would lead them in a wide circle instead of the direct route. In their booze fuelled state it did not register that the path would take them through the oldest part of the graveyard where ancient and imposing tombs stood, all hopefully empty.45

For all that they were still an intimidating sight, especially in the near pitch- blackness of the old graveyard. 46

They set off at a brisk pace, drunk or sober they did not want to stay for a minute longer than necessary in this city of the dead. 47

The path led directly upwards, and by the time they had reached the highest point all three were out of breath. 48

“Let’s stop here for a minute Alex Beaton gasped, I don’t know about you two he said, but I’m absolutely knackered. 49

“Right” Tom said. Walking towards to a wooden bench planked himself down on it,” let’s sit here for five minutes and have a smoke”.50

A few yards from where they were sitting, one tomb stood out more than all of the others.51

Jim Muir passed his cigarette packet to the others, “I don’t think I’ve got enough breath left in me for a smoke Alex Beaton gasped, in fact if a ghost or anything else was to walk out of that big tomb facing us, I’d be right in trouble”.52

“You and you’re ghosts said Jim Muir scoffed, even the local kids come here at night to play at hide and seek. 53

“Tell you what he challenged the two men, I’ll give two pounds next pay day, to either of you has the balls to spend ten minutes alone in the big tomb facing us”. 54

Neither man seemed anxious to take up his offer despite the fact, that in those days two pounds was a fair amount. The average wage being about eight or nine pounds a week.55

“How about you Tom Jim said, you lost two day’s wages last week, when you were off work sick”.56

It was true; he had lost two days wages due to a tummy upset and could certainly have done with the money. Two pounds would go a long way to making up the shortfall in his wage packet. 57

He sat mulling it over all the while casting nervous glances in the direction of the crumbling tomb, what could possibly harm me he said to himself. It’s probably been empty for the past hundred years. 58

“Well Tom”, Jim pressed. 59

“It’s true I could do with the money, but I don’t know if I could last ten seconds never mind ten minutes inside one of those things on my own he said, staring with some apprehension at the ghostly outlines.60

“If I do volunteer, will you two stand at the entrance while I’m in there he asked? 61

“Of course we will Jim Muir replied, how else are we going to time you”? 62

“Well all right he said finally and with some reluctance, I’ll do it, but you two have got promise me that you won’t bail out and leave me all on my own”. 63

“It’s a promise” Jim Muir said. 64

The trio got to their feet and crossed the cinder path towards the tomb, the iron gates that had once guarded the entrance a century or so ago had long since vanished, leaving two pillars of worn sandstone. 65

Tom stood at the mouth of the tomb staring into its black interior, and although the night was on the cold side, sweat was already forming on his forehead. 66

“Can I have your box of matches he asked Alex Beaton? 67

“Sorry Tom, Jim Muir cut in, where’s the challenge in that”? 68

“Come on he urged, the sooner you get it over with, the sooner we can all go home.69

Taking a deep breath Tom Bridger took his first tentative step into the dark interior; Jim Muir had made one small concession, he had allowed him one match to be struck at the top of the worn stone steps leading down and into the pitch-black interior. 70

He struck the match and stood for a moment looking into the black hole below, into what would be the start of his own personal hell for some time to come. 71

Slowly he inched his way down the moss-covered steps, the weak light from match showed the empty interior of a long narrow tomb. 72

“At least it’s empty” he said to himself, and straight away felt a little less apprehensive. 73

Half way down the steps he froze as the match burnt its self out plunging the tomb into total darkness once more. Automatically he reached out with his left arm and felt his hand come into contact with a damp and somewhat slimy wall. 74

He was breathing heavily now and his heart was thumping against his ribcage, in the dark claustrophobic confines of the tomb. 75

It was with some relief that Jim Muir’s voice reached his ears. 76

“Are you all right Tom “? He called 77

“I’m fine” Tom managed, his voice catching in his throat. 78

Before the match had gone out, he had been inwardly counting the number of steps leading to the floor of the tomb. He reckoned that there could not be much more than a couple left. Seconds later to his great relief, his feet came to rest on what felt like flagstones.79

“Eight he said to himself, only eight steps”. Relief flooded through him as he repeated it to himself… “only eight steps”.80

What little air there was in the dank interior was fetid; the smell of long dead corpse’s still lingering in the tight confines, it cloyed at his throat making breathing even harder.81

He found with some relief that there was a space just wide enough between the wall and the steps that would allow him to squat with his back against the wall. 82

Crouching there in the darkness he felt some small measure of comfort at the feeling of something solid against his back.83

Soon afterwards he found himself wondering how long it had been since he had entered the tomb, and at the same time trying to adjust his eyes to the blackness that surrounded him.84

Not long afterwards his scenes went into overdrive; he tilted his head one direction and then the other, listening for the slightest sound, while silently praying that there would be nothing to hear.85

As he squatted there he knew that his eyes were wide open and staring as they searched for any kind of movement without really knowing why. His muscles were coiled like springs, ready to propel him up the stone steps at a seconds notice. 86

Moments later a shudder ran through his body like an electric shock and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled, he instinctively backed further into the narrow space between the stairs and the wall, his eyes staring into the blackness that surrounded him like a cloak. 87

Suddenly, and he would swear to it on a stack of bibles if anyone had asked him to, he saw for a few nano seconds something even blacker than the darkness that surrounded him. It appeared to be the outline of a very tall man, but it was a figure without. 88

He instinctively pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly to him, making himself as small a target as possible, in case whatever it was reached towards him. 89

His eyes ached from continually staring into the inky blackness, but he was too afraid to close them even for a split second. 90

Suddenly his head swivelled to the right, ears straining to catch the slightest sound, almost immediately there came the unmistakable sound of low pitched laugher, it was barely audible, but audible nevertheless. 91

His reasoning was now all over the place,” it’s not possible he told himself it has to be those two winding me up, it has to be” he said desperately, trying to reassure 92

himself.93

Moments later the same quiet unnerving sound reached his ears for a second time and this time he knew for certain that it was not his friends, as it was now coming from a different direction…Worse still, it sounded closer to him.94

As he stared wild-eyed into the inky blackness there came the sudden shock to his system of what looked like three pairs of small red eyes piercing it.95

He screwed his eyes tightly shut and took a deep breath; “get a grip of yourself Tom your imagination is on overdrive, it’s probably rats”. 96

Although he hated the sight of rats at the best of times, their presence would be infinitely preferable to what was going through is tortured mind.97

“It has to be rats he repeated to himself over and over trying desperately to reassure himself; what else could it possibly be? “It’s the perfect place for them. 98

However the momentary relief that he felt at the alternative was soon to turn to terror at the unmistakable sound of someone whispering, whispers punctuated by the quiet unnerving sound of laughter that he had heard moments earlier. 99

There was something about that laughter that heightened his fear, something that was in danger of turning his blood to ice. 100

He was desperate to relieve himself, crossing his legs he did his best to hold back as his swollen belly became more and more distended, to his shame he felt the warm stream of urine as it streamed down is legs to the floor of the tomb. 101

He slowly raised himself to a standing position, “stuff the money he muttered I’m getting to fuck out of here”.102

Seconds later something bushed against his foot, he held back the strangled scream and took a quick step back, almost falling over the bottom step as he did so.103

As he struggled to regain his balance he had the unmistakable feeling that something indescribable was edging ever closer to him the darkness with every passing second; and that whatever it was it was coming for him. 104

A feeling of unmistakable evil reached deep into Tom Bridger’s psyche, galvanizing him into action and forcing his stiff legs to move like well oiled pistons. 105

As his foot found the bottom step he heard the familiar voice of Jim Muir from above…. “Ok Tom he yelled, times up”. 106

As he took to the steps there was a definite tug on his trouser leg, without looking around he climbed the steps two at a time, he was sobbing openly and tears ran unashamedly down his face.107

At the entrance to the tomb his friends looked on in astonishment as Tom shot from the entrance without even looking at them, and vanished into the darkness without a word. He ran blindly through the darkness not caring in which direction his headlong flight took him, as long as it was far away from that hellhole in the graveyard. 108

When they eventually caught up with him he was slumped against the tenement wall on the other side of the street from the graveyard, he was shaking violently and swaying back and forth in a rocking motion. As they approached him they could see clearly that he was sobbing uncontrollably. 109

“What in the name of hell happened to you Tom”, Jim Muir asked?110

“You took off as if the devil himself was chasing you”. If he had known what had gone on in the tomb, he would have thought twice about his remark. 111

There was no immediate response from Tom, what was instantly noticeable however was the look of sheer terror etched on his features and the unblinking stare as he looked straight past them towards the graveyard. 112

Since that night normality had become a thing of the past for Tom Bridger, friends and relatives alike noticed the dramatic change in him, he had gone from being an open and friendly guy to someone who was now withdrawn and secretive. 113

The way he looked at people made them want to avert their eyes.114

When coming face to face with people be it workmates or acquaintances, he no longer smiled a greeting, instead he appeared to scrutinise their features as if he were searching for something.115

Recently from somewhere in his tortured mind, an image of something threatening flitted in and out of his subconscious; it was as yet featureless except for two red slits where eyes would normally be. 116

His work mates were by now openly using the name spooky when they referred to him, some of whom he had worked with for almost twenty years. 117

One day at work someone remarked to him in conversation that he looked haunted, he would never know just how close he was to the truth. 118

For a while his marriage was in grave danger of breaking up, at home every little noise his children made brought a reaction from him. 119

It was not the first time that he had chased them from the house out into the street, yelling at them to stay outside, regardless of the weather. 120

Anyone who knew Tom really well; would tell you that this behaviour was out of character, he loved his kids. During the summer months when he had time off he would take them to the public park, there they would watch for hours on end people sailing model yachts in the large boating pond. Their favourites were the small petrol driven motorboats that buzzed about all over the place, sometimes scattering the ducks and any other waterfowl that happened to be on the pond. 121

His children for their part loved their father, but they had recently they had become afraid of his outbursts which were becoming more and more violent. 122

His wife Jean did not escape his mood swings either, everything that she said or did lately had become a fault, not enough salt in the potatoes, or meals not being on the table when he arrived home from work. 123

The final straw came one evening when he accused her of being lazy and work shy; she confronted him, and in no uncertain terms told him that in her opinion he needed to see a doctor in more ways than one. 124

In turn she received a smack on the face for her trouble; she walked out that night taking the children round to her mother’s house.125

He spent the rest of that evening getting drunk, he was aware that what he was doing to his wife and kids was wrong, but could not stop himself. If only the whispering in his head would stop everything would be all right. Jean and the kids didn’t deserve the abuse he was dishing out to them, but they did not understand the reason for it, and he couldn’t tell them. As for himself, it had now got to the stage where he was afraid to go to work as the darkening evening drew in, afraid of being out there on his own.126

Even his friends had stopped coming around to visit him.127

The following evening before going out to work, he had tried to psyche himself up to go around to his mother- in- laws house and try to talk Jean into coming back home with the kids.128

Before leaving the house he had drunk just enough alcohol to give him Dutch courage, enough to enable him to walk the short distance between his house and that of his in-laws. The distance between the two houses was only a hundred yards or so, but the streets were dimly lit, and directly across the road lay the graveyard. 129

When he arrived at his in-laws house they had refused to let him in, particularly his father-in law, who had threatened to give him a dose of his own medicine if he did not get away from the door.130

Eventually Jean had spoken with him through the half open door.131

” Just go home Tom she pleaded with him, I’ll come by the house and see you tomorrow and we can talk about it then”. 132

With time on his own to think, he was shocked and appalled by his behaviour towards his wife and kids, and had made up his mind to go and see the family doctor. He also made up his mind to tell Jean the whole story of that fateful night and about the bet with Jim Muir.133

He went over in his mind the things he had seen that night, or at least the things thought he had seen and heard, during the longest ten minutes of his life.134

He was sure in his own mind that the whispering; and the low spine chilling laughter in the tomb were real enough, however it was one thing him being sure, but telling his wife let alone the doctor, about what had gone on that night was something else.135

He would probably have him locked him up in the looney bin for life, and have the key thrown away. 136

His employers were more than sympathetic to his plight, and had given him time off work with the understanding that he volunteered to undergo treatment. So with the assurance from his employers that his job was safe for the foreseeable future, he had finally made an appointment to see his doctor.137

After listening to what he had to say Doctor James recommended that he undergo psychiatric treatment. “How long for he asked?138

“It depends on how you respond to the treatment came the answer.139

After six months of electric shock treatment to his brain, his face was now starting to show the effects of it, in those days this method was commonly used for various kinds of fits, and psychiatric disorders. However barbaric the treatment was deemed to be, it seemed to work in Tom’s case and he appeared to be on the road to recovery. 140

He could now pass by the graveyard without breaking out in a cold sweat; that was of course, as long as it was during daylight hours. 141

By the end of July the doctors finally gave him the all clear to resume work once more, but recommended he wait a few weeks after his discharge from hospital. 142

After the trauma of the past nine months he Jean and the kids had spent two weeks on holiday at the coast, on their return home he spent what was left of the long summer evenings out and about on his own, as he tried to rebuild his confidence. 143

At the beginning of August he felt that he was ready to go back to work as his confidence gradually returned, being out and about once more lighting the street lamps seemed all too familiar to him.144

All too soon however the light summer nights came to an end and with autumn turning to winter, the dark nights were well and truly back, this would be a true test of his new found confidence.145

Almost from the onset of the returning dark nights, his anxieties began to resurface, and the memories of that awful night a year ago came flooding back.146

His wife soon began to notice the change in his behaviour the nearer it came for him to leave the house each night, the nearer it got the more agitated and fidgety he would become.147

She decided for now not to mention her observations, afraid that it would put even more pressure on him and perhaps undo the progress he had made over the past year.148

He was now half way through the working week; he had gritted his teeth and fought the fear of being on his own every minute that he was out in the open. Fought the rising panic that had stayed with him right up until he set foot back inside his home at the end of each shift. 149

The fog had been light but persistent throughout most of the week; tonight however was one of the worst he had ever had to go out in.150

As usual before he left on his rounds Jean made him a mug of sweet strong tea and then filled his thermos flask, taking it from her he placed it in his knapsack. “By the looks of the weather he said smiling I’ll need that to-night”.151

Raising the mug to his lips he swallowed the last mouthful of tea. 152

He glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf; still ten minutes to go he said to himself. Sitting back in the big comfy chair he had a smoke, while enjoying the warmth from the blazing coal fire.153

Reluctantly got to his feet, after donning his overcoat he wrapped a heavy woollen scarf around his neck before finally placing a worn old cap on his head. Tonight for some reason or other, he was feeling more nervous about going out than he had done previously.154

He kept glancing at the clock, there were still a few more minutes left before he had to leave on his rounds.155

Jean stood a few feet from him ironing, she watched from the coroner of her eye as he fidgeted with his clothing, first he would undo his scarf and then retie it. Next he sat down on the armchair and loosened one of his bootlaces before proceeding to do it up again.156

Finally he could no longer put off leaving for work, getting to his feet he forced himself to leave the warmth and safety of the home, the only place where he could safely keep his demons at bay. 157

At the front door Jean gave him a hug and kissed him on the cheek, “keep wrapped up dear she said and mind where you walk in this weather”. 158

Outside the fog was a real pea souper, with visibility down to no more than three or four feet. It was so bad in fact that the conductors on the tramcars had to walk in front of thire trams with a flashlight, in case anyone wandered onto the rails and was knocked down.159

He shivered as the dampness closed around him, and putting his carbide stick beneath his right arm he thrust his hands deep into his coat pockets before moving off, all around him the streets were shrouded in a grey blanket of fog and were as silent as the proverbial grave. 160

The sound footsteps and the noise of what little traffic there was on the streets at this time, were barely audible as the denseness of the fog acted as a muffler, every now and then a shadowy figure would emerge from the bank of fog flashlight in hand.161

Years of walking the same streets gave him a sort of built in picture of where he was at any given time, which was just as well to-night.162

By his latest reckoning he was about half way through his round, all being well should be finished in about forty-five minutes. As he walked he hummed one of the more popular tunes heard on the radio, trying to keep his mind occupied. 163

Suddenly he halted in his tracks and franticly looked around him as a feeling of uneasiness gripped him, it was as if some sixth sense were warning him that he was no longer alone, and urged him to keep his wits about him.164

A sudden light breeze parted the thick curtain of fog momentarily giving him his bearings, to his great relief he had arrived outside the last tenement close on his round.165

“Five more minutes he said to himself and I’ll be finished for the night; and I can start for home”. 166

As he entered the dark close the yellow flame from his carbide stick reflected off the glazed tiles, casting deep shadows in the narrow confines. ” Hold it together he muttered to himself; just a few more minutes and you can start for home”. 167

He opened the gas valve on the lamp overhead and held the flame from his stick to the gas mantle; seconds later it popped loudly as the gas trapped in it burst to life dispelling the shadows.168

A sigh of relief escaped his lips; quickly turning he mounted the stairs, stopping on each landing in turn to light the gas lamps. 169

With light all around him he was starting to feel more secure, and his earlier feelings had now diminished somewhat.170

On his way downstairs he stopped on the last landing to speak to a couple he knew, it turned out they were going out for the evening to the local picture house. 171

They walked down stairs to-gether; on reaching the close mouth they said good-bye, before leaving him on his own.172

Reaching into the pocket of his overcoat he took out a packet of woodbine cigarettes, or coffin nails as they were known as because of the damage they did to the lungs. Placing it between his lips he lit it and inhaled deeply.173

As the nicotine entered his blood stream he started to relax a little. 174

He stood for a few minutes smoking, and listened to the faint sounds of music playing on someone’s radio, recognising the tune he hummed along to it. Finishing the cigarette he dropped what was left of it onto the concrete, and ground it out underfoot.175

The fog if anything was now thicker than it had been when he left home earlier that evening, and the night air had become decidedly chillier. Pulling his coat collar up around his neck, he stepped out into the street and glanced at his watch for the second time in as many minutes, the time was six forty five. 176

He allowed himself a little smile and congratulated himself, despite the adverse conditions he had finished ten minutes earlier than he normally would have done had the weather been fine.177

As he made his way home he tried to block everything out of his mind except for the cosy living room waiting for him, with its blazing coal fire big comfy armchair and his wife. 178

As he walked he stayed close to the wall of the building, using his carbide stick in much the same way a blind person would a cane. 179

Keeping contact with the wall allowed him to walk in a straight line, the shortest distance between two points.180

He shivered and hunched his shoulders against the dampness as he made his way through the fog, every now and again blowing into his hands to warm them. 181

It seemed to him that in the last few minutes it had turned much colder, placing the carbide stick under one arm he buried his hands deep in his coat pockets.182

A few yards further on he stopped dead in his tracks and looked around him in the ever thickening fog listening intently, he was sure that he had heard someone speak his name. 183

As he stood listening the hairs on the back of his neck bristled, and all of the fears that he had tried so desperately to suppress started to184

resurface. He stood listening for what seemed like an eternity, unable to see anything or anyone in the suffocating grey blanket of fog.185

His pace when he resumed walking had quickened considerably, despite the fact he could see little or nothing in front of him. 186

He had only covered a few yards or so when he heard his name being spoken once more, this time whoever it sounded closer. 187

There was no way he could know that it was not a human voice; but every instinct in him screamed at him to run.188

“Dear lord he prayed please, not again”.189

He knew instinctively that somewhere close by, hidden in the solid bank of fog the nightmare from the tomb had returned.190

Looking wildly around him he yelled “who’s there? 191

He did not really want an answer to his question, nor did he want to come face to face with whatever it was, although, even that might just be preferable to some invisible thing suddenly reaching out of the fog and grabbing hold of him. 192

The deafening silence that followed was having its effect, he was visibly shaking now as he found himself alone in the fog, being stalked by God alone knew what.193

He stood rooted to the spot whimpering in fear. 194

A sudden breeze caused the blanket of fog to eddy and swirl, it was as if it were alive.195

He somehow got his momentum going again, and as he hurried along he tried desperately to convince himself that it was the breeze and nothing else that was responsible for the movement taking place around him. 196

“That’s exactly what it is he said aloud, it’s the breeze making the fog swirl, there are no such things as spooks, ghouls or supernatural beings, do you hear me” he yelled into the fog.197

What happened next shot that theory out of the water.198

Slowly almost imperceptibly his eyes made out a ghostly outline ahead of him, something that looked human, but which seemed to lack any solidity. The impression that he got was of a tall figure dressed in a long robe, its head and face covered by a cowl or hood, the kind of garment a monk would perhaps wear. 199

There were no features visible beneath the hood, but in the middle of the dark hole where the face should be, were two red orbs that seemed to burn into his very soul.200

To his abject horror moments later the thing seemed to float on the bank of fog, inching closer to him with every passing second.201

Like before in the tomb, he was aware of a wet warm feeling in his trouser legs, and he knew that he had wet himself again.202

He stood rooted to the spot by fear, the urine running down his legs forming in a pool at his feet, suddenly there was movement all around him. Something got a hold of his right trouser leg just above the ankle with what seemed like tiny hands or claws, and then he felt pain as something sharp bit into his leg. He was frantic now, desperately trying to cling to his fast disappearing sanity.203

Summoning up strength from somewhere he roared in defiance, and then began to lash in all directions with his carbide stick tightly clenched in his right hand.204

From somewhere in the fog something laughed manically.205

While this had been going on the spectre had remained at a distance from him, he knew instinctively that the words now forming in his mind were emanating from the thing in front of him.206

“Why are you so afraid human? 207

“Why do you fear us so, did you not came into our secret place uninvited, disturbing our rest? 208

“You came amongst us of your own free will reminding us of times past, when we like you walked abroad, of a time before we were dammed, banished by you’re kind, forever to dwell in deep dark places as figments of imagination. 209

“Since then we have been held captive in that place except on the one night of the year, the night you humans call All Hallows Night. 210

“Since you came among us uninvited, our ancient laws demand that you must now return with us to our secret place. 211

His mouth was wide open, he tried desperately to scream but no noise came from the gaping hole in his face.212

“Come with us the words in his head cajoled in a quiet almost hypnotic way, don’t be afraid, in the darkness peace can be found and rest comes easily. 213

He watched in abject terror as the thing moved towards him, the fire red orbs in the invisible face boring deep into his skull, numbing his thoughts. “Come the voice continued relentlessly, take my hand and let me help you cross over. 214

Suddenly an arm was raised and a ghostly hand reached toward s him.215

“Don’t be afraid human, the voce was soft and cajoling, I’m your friend, and I can banish all of your fears if you come with us now. 216

Suddenly he found his voice and screamed, God help me; the plea came from his very soul, please dear God, don’t let them take me. 217

The thing in front of him seemed to retreat ever so slightly at the mention of the word God. 218

Suddenly his legs were moving and he was running headlong into the fog, not knowing or even caring in which direction they were taking him, as long as it was away from the thing with the glowing red eyes. 219

He was sobbing as he ran, tears cascaded down his face; his heart beat so hard that it seemed it must burst, as he fled headlong into the night.220

Suddenly he slipped and pitched headlong, landing face down on the wet street gasping for air as the breath was driven from his body.221

In his blind headlong flight the carbide stick had become trapped between his legs tripping him.222

Lying sprawled on the street partially and stunned fear drove him onward and he tried desperately to get back to his feet, his eyes searching frantically for the nightmare with the glowing eyes. 223

As he scrambled to his fee the leant against a wall trying to catch his breath, to his horror out of the corner of his eye he saw two lights moving in his direction through the fog.224

He cursed loudly and started to run once again; in his hurry to flee he slipped on the wet pavement and fell to the ground again.225

Moments later hands took hold of his arms and started pulling him to his feet, the sheer terror of their touch causing his bowls to loosen and empty themselves into his already soiled trousers.226

He screamed loudly and pulled free of their grip.227

“Hey take it easy mister a voice said, we’re only trying to help get you to your feet”. 228

He turned towards the voice, to his great relief a man accompanied by a female companion stood facing him. 229

“Are you all right the woman asked? 230

“We saw you slip and fall, and wondered if you had hurt yourself”231

It was then that he noticed both were carrying flashlights and straight away the relief flooded through his whole being, he laughed hysterically, tears of joy running down his cheeks. 232

“Are you all right the woman asked him, the concern in her voice audible?233

“I’m fine he managed, honestly, it was just that for one terrible moment I thought”… his voice trailed off as he checked himself.234

Just how fantastic and disbelieving would it sound to them if he told them what had happened. 235

The fog was starting to clear now and his surroundings were visible once more.236

“Do you live far from here the man asked? “Not too far he replied, about five minutes away just across from the… rest of the sentence died on his lips.237

The couple walked along with him for a few minutes before saying goodnight, leaving him on his own.238

He passed a cafe not far from his home; it had obviously closed early tonight because of the weather and lack of custom.239

He paused to light a cigarette; a few more minutes would see him safely home. Just at that moment a sudden loud burst of laughter behind him made him spin quickly, his eyes wide with fear. 240

Two girls on their way back from a night at the pictures appeared from the fast dissipating fog, and passed close to him.241

He inhaled deeply on the cigarette, drawing the nicotine deep into his lungs, his hands were shaking and he felt sick.242

On reaching the close mouth Tom Bridger stood with his arms braced against the wall in front of him, his body arched violently and he vomited onto the pavement. 243

Straightening up he steadied himself before wiping his mouth on his coat sleeve. He entered the close and moved towards his front door; and then taking a final deep breath he inserted his key in the lock with a trembling hand. 244

In the cosy living room Ellen had heard the key turning in the lock and came to the door to greet him, “hurry away in she said and get warmed up, how are you darling”?245

She helped him off with his coat and hung it in the hallway cupboard, as he removed his cap she turned towards him, how… the rest of the words died in her throat as she stared at her husband in total disbelief.246

“What in the name of heavens happened to you Tom?” 247

“What’s wrong he asked on seeing the look on her face?248

As he spoke he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, facing him249

was a stranger with the snow- white hair. 250