Location: Ipswich Cemetery

Story:

The familiar hushed chatter of the guests discussing the last tale hung in the air like a fog as they investigated the grand tomb. Unexpectedly a single cry rang out above the hubbub.

‘No way man! That thing is looking at us!’

This was not something the guide had experienced before. So with a faint smile on his lips he slowly turned and began to head towards where the cry had come from. Already a small group had gathered at the corner of the crypt, their torches all pointed at a single spot as they nervously chattered.

‘What is That?’

‘Its watching us!’

‘Is that real hair?

‘That can’t be real!’ came the startled voices.

The guide was truly intrigued by this point. His vision cleared the corner of the crypt and he beheld the subject of their fascination.

Standing part way up the hill, between an obelisk and a Celtic cross, was what appeared to be a statue of the Virgin Mary – its weathered stone surface giving it an unearthly appearance – however the darkened flecks and marks across its surface seemed to suggest it had recently risen from the earth over which it stood watch.

By far, the most chilling feature was the way the light of the full moon played across its face. The eyes seemed so dark and hollow as if not even there at all, the cheek bones far too pronounced and the recesses of its bottom lip making it look as if the mouth was frozen in a pained wail. The sharp contrast of the moonlight and shadow under its hooded veil lead the guests to believe it had blacked hair framing its gaunt and austere face.

‘Nah man, that’s too much for me’ blurted out the first voice.

‘You guys put that there right?’ asked another as they turned to the guide.

The guide tried to steady his nerves as he addressed the crowd,

‘I can assure you, we are not in the business of cheap scares and I am most certainly the only one working here tonight’.

Unsure if he was trying to reassure them or himself, he continued on, ‘As I told you earlier, ghosts are real and lurking everywhere. Under the light of the full moon many of the monuments can take on a far more, disturbing, appearance but whatever you are seeing, is real. Regardless, I am certain you are safe with me, so shall we continue on to the next tale?’

The guests nervously agreed and followed their guide.

The tour continued without any other apparitions appearing, but the chill of the encounter had settled into the guides bones and would not shift.

The following night the guide had another tour to lead, but even a day later he could not escape the sense of dread from what he had seen. It was still daylight when he arrived so he resolved to investigate the macabre Mother Mary statue and put his unease to rest. He followed the trail he knew so well until finally reaching the site of last night’s disturbance. He gazed up the hill and saw the landmarks, the obelisk, the Celtic cross, but between them he saw something that made his breath stop and his heart leap into his throat.

He saw nothing but empty space.