A Conversation for Ghosts

Ghosts in Somerset

Post 1

Pirate Alexander LeGray

I didn't believe in ghosts, till one strange night around the stroke of twelve.
When I saw an old man, with crooked teeth,long Norman nose, straggly white hair, with an interested look upon his grey face.
I was in a deserted factory yard, in a place called Chilcompton, near Shepton Mallet, and it was exactly my second eventful visit.
The man was about five foot six, wearing a sleeveless hessian jacket over a billowy white cotton shirt. Black trousers held up with string, and brown shoes.
A good description eh,he was only five feet away. I noticed a broken shotgun slung over his left arm.
He said: "You've had a long and interesting life, so many experiences and its not over yet, You have one more thing to do."
The vision of this man was unbearable and I was strapped with fear. Looking away before he started to speak.
Their was a loud bang, I was wet down the side facing him with a warm substance, birds beat their escape, as I did. Upon leaving the perimeter I was instantly dry and their was no evidence of the old man.
Suffice to say I never visited that place again, and never will.
This isn't my only experience, but until then I denied the existence of ghosts and suppose in a way still do. Other stories are far too bazaar to mention and besides others regard me as a scientist, which is also hard to explain.

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