Coincidence is not something I believe in, even slightly. Yet, there always has to be an exception to the rule that mucks up the perfect little world we all ensconce ourselves within, and that happened today to me. Lined up and waiting to order a coffee this morning, lets say at about 0930, I had a yarn to a chap who I can’t say I know exceptionally well, but well enough to have a beer with, something I have done a couple of times. I digress, anyway, whilst waiting to order a coffee (we were in Jeanne d’Moore, go to Jeanne d’Moore now. Now! jeannedmoore.com.au/), he and I struck up a chat regards this particular endeavour, and that he had been reading some of the merde I have been pumping out through this site. He was polite enough to say he enjoyed it, we briefly discussed one or two tales that I have put on the blog, and then he left. I returned to the table I was seated at, opened the ‘Australian’, and hurried up to wait for my wife.
On finishing my first coffee, my wife had been detained unexpectedly so I found, I stepped outside and had a cool refreshing cigarette (they’re less than two calories) and unwittingly fell into a yarn with a passer-by, specifically about ‘therebemonstershere.com’, and a particular tale I posted in November last year. She then went on to fill me in on the ghost that is still seen regularly on that street, in or adjacent to the house that stands on the ruins located on what was once known as ‘Slaughter Road’. I’ve attached the link to the original post below.
So, beneath is what I have since learnt about the lass of Slaughter Road.
“Few people know this, but I have a medical background,” I said the lady before me. By appearance she could have been anywhere from 20 to 40 years of age, and yet she spoke with the tacit authority of someone far older. “So, whilst I still don’t understand how it works, I fully understand that regardless of what people think, the full moon has a profound effect on many, many people. Lunacy is derived from ‘Luna’ pertaining to the moon, and ‘lunatic’ being someone who has intermittent bouts of insanity that coincide with the position of the moon. So yes, I get it.”
“You wrote about ‘Slaughter Road’ and the tragedy that occurred there, but what do you know of the ghost of the girl, and when she is at her most dangerous?” Says she.
“Well young lady, nought to be most precise.” And this is what she told me.
Since the blacksmiths shop was torn down, the road upgraded from dirt to gravel, then gravel to blue metal and tar, with houses seemingly growing from the earth over the ‘smiths shop, a veritable plethora of utterly inexplicable incidents have occurred. The majority vile, violent, and nasty. People’s minds bent and twisted, beyond recovery. Physical harm befalling so very many, yet all seemingly blamed on other factors, overlooking the central core of this. A spirit that is still linked to this plain, unable to move on to where ever it is a spirit goes. Tormented and in pain, angry and inconsolable, hating and harming man and beast, poisoning the earth and the household sitting over the place of her brutal murder.
The time of the full moon, for the most part, is when she is at her worst. She is occasionally seen, but more regularly felt as something exceptionally cold, sending up the sixth sense flares over the body by way of goosebumps, the quickening of the beat of your heart, the cold sick sweat over the brow. And it is her, the poor wee lass who was raped, tortured, and died the most horrible of deaths at the hand of a blacksmith, her remains yet to be found to this day.
In the house, a specific house, one that has only ever housed people that transformed into the worst of society. Drugs, violence, hate, depravity, and spite filling them within a year of residence; it is a house the Police know VERY well. She will move things with in the house, both in plain sight, and when people are not around. Shifting knives and forks from the sink to the floor, items off the table, messing up bedclothes. She will move the minds of people within the house, she has appeared and terrified those dwelling within and without house, she moves across the remnants of the backyard where she can, but very worst of all, she is sometimes heard. Apparently she makes a ‘keening’ sound, the sound made by someone in extreme pain. Other times, she is said to sound very like a ‘curlew’ in the night; yet it is only in darkness she is heard. Most often during the full moon.
She has bought illness into the house, cancer has plagued residents of the house on Slaughter Road over the last one hundred odd years. Others have very nearly starved to death there, children and the elderly have been lost by those that have loved them the most within the area of her little realm, and yet there is nothing that seems to be able to be done about her. People have seen her in front the house, and adjacent to the street.
And there she remains, lurking, hunting, destroying all that encounter her, even to this day. Beware the Ghost of Slaughter Road, she will find you, and when she does there is no escape.
Well, I don’t believe my words do justice to everything I was told. Regardless, there you go, it scared the hell out of me when she told me. Particularly as Slaughter Road, it has been renamed, is quite close to the house myself and my family live with in. Yucko!
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