Of Poundbury Hill.
By John R A Smith.
WARNING IN THIS BOOK, IT TALKS ABOUT WITCHES BOTH WHITE AND BLACK, ABOUT DEVIL WORSHIP, HUMAN SACRIFICE.
It also contains a prayer and in part ritual taken from the original manuscripts as found in the British museum on the Clavicular Salomonis; the key of Solomon:
A work of fiction.
It had been three years and one month since the recorded death of Liza Dunbar. Her old farm house in Kirkland Street had been sold for future development. Kirtland Farm had at one time held multiple acres of land, but in time sections were sold until the Farm sat in less than a third of an acre and was but small package of what it had once been, and now it was to become possibly flats or yet further bungalows.
Winston Samuel Jenson, a local land owner had brought the old farmhouse, only he had not made his mind up as to what he would do with the property, as there was another reason for purchasing this particular patch of land. Forty three years past his son then aged only 7 years, had been playing with his puppy dog, Winston had purchased a property upon Poundbury Hill mid-way down, and it had some twenty acres to the rear of the property, and Frank Jenson his son was playing ball and catch with his little dog, only he threw the ball to hard towards the road, the ball left the drives entrance and started bouncing down the hill.
Frank ran after his dog as it chased the ball and left the properties boundaries, only he never returned, the puppy returned but Frank was never found. It was not until just over a few days after Liza Dunbar had gone missing, Winston had been awoken by laughter and got out of his bed, walking over to the window he looked outside, the security lights lit the rear garden and there he saw Frank his son still looking aged seven or eight, and was playing in his rear garden, and playing ball with what looked like a German shepherd dog. And another older woman about two metres away appeared with someone he recognised, Liza Dunbar, and both women appeared to be watching over his son.
Only Liza turned and faced the bedroom window, smiled and waved and then within minutes they vanished as the rear garden started misting over, and Winston could swear it had turned cold and that for the briefest of seconds he saw a cloaked figure, and then it vanished, as did the mist. He stared in stunned silence refusing to believe what he saw, until the very next day he was awoken yet again, only to see the very same thing.
Now he knew something had happened as this time the ball had remained, he had heard the stories and knew Liza and her friend Jenny had been investigating the cases of the missing children, hell almost all the locals knew of the story, only now he had seen with his own eyes, and he felt sure, Liza and Jenny and one rather big German Shepherd dog were keeping his son safe.
It was for this reason Winston decided to purchase the old farm house, incredibly it had come with all the furniture and eventually books manuscripts and he even negotiated for her computer but found that was retained by the police, what he did find however was three memory sticks concealed within an old priest hole and a stack of diaries and journals which Jenny had hidden there the day after Liza had gone missing. She had known had she kept them in her home they would possibly be found.
She knew of the old Priest hole and had placed them there for safe keeping meaning to retrieve them at another time, only she never made it as not long later Jenny had fallen victim to the ghost or evil of Poundbury Hill, and had been seen by a passing police officer. Now Winston owned the property, it was legally his and he wanted although he would not admit it, to keep it for Liza so she had an anchorage point and would remain looking after his son.
It was selfish and yes he knew this, he just could not let go, the loss of his son had affected his marriage and his wife had died from a broken heart. Winston had only survived by placing his energy into his work, and prayed daily for both Betty his wife and his son, now he knew there was some form of life after death, just what he could not say or imagine, but to him it gave new strength and something to hold onto, and such was his determination, he was not going to let go.
After a time he visited the old farmhouse and as he entered he saw the old rocking chair moving and heard voices and what sounded like children playing, he had returned as he suspected the priest hole might hold further surprises, upon reaching into the old fireplace he found the brick and pushed it inwards while gently pulling upon a second brick, suddenly the secret door opened and he squeezed his way into the narrow gap and lit his torch. Then carefully he followed the short passage to where he found the journals etc. He had been researching and discovered some Priest holes held an additional secret room. From there he started looking, but as he did he could hear softly spoken voices, and then there was a giggle and an icy cold hand touched the base of his neck.
Winston stopped and breathed inwards trying to keep control of his sanity, “Frank…, is that you,” he asked, but only laughter came back and to his ears it sounded more like young girls laughing. Then he heard something different and the girls stopped laughing and the atmosphere seemed to change, “Holy Mother of God protect me,” screamed a voiced, and then Winston heard a gurgling sound and could smell a coppery taste of blood.
Then before his very eyes two ancient uniformed soldiers walk from the bricks and went right passed him as one was placing his sword away. The air cleared and after a few minutes the children could be heard once again, but Winston was partly frozen in fear, until he heard a soft voice, and a gentle touch upon his arm. “Come son there is only death that way,” and then he felt himself been guided back out of the priest hole and the secret door appeared to seal itself shut.
As he entered the room the rocking chair stopped moving yet a second time and it went quiet, then right before his eyes Frank his son appeared from mid space running after a German Shepard dog and he was smiling and laughing, and then vanished between a closed door. He cried and wiped away tears, and just as he was about to leave, he heard a soft gentle voice, “I love you dad,” Winston turned to see his son fading into the background, and he fought to hold his mind together, as he knew he had done the right thing in offering the home as a sanctuary. As he was leaving and closing the door a female voice was heard, “Winston he is with us now, thank you for keeping my home safe.” At that he looked back into the room, but all was quiet and he saw only the furniture, as he moved away, he locked the front door and made his way home.
Like many others the Priest of St. Michael and all Angels church had been disturbed by the loss of children and especially Liza and Jenny who had been so involved in the community and the church, the same was said for the curate and members of the church, especially as it was a very night when Liza had been involved in an evening service and upon venturing home Liza had made her way passed School Lane and been seen by one of the residence, but failed to travel the remaining incredibly short distance to her home.
Even now after just over three years there were still those who remember that night, one in particular was Chris Hopkins the curate of St. Michaels, as Liza had spoken to him only an hour earlier requesting a meeting with him of what to Liza’s words were ‘A matter of considerable importance.’ Only he became entrapped by well-intentioned people wanting to have general conversation, and Liza had become tired, the constant research had drawn upon her aged reserves and she was somnolent that night, so she decided to make her way home and talk with Chris in the morning.
Only for Liza the morning never arrived, as after passing School Lane something happened, and Liza never made it home, only the owners of Monteclefe House had just entered Kirkland Street on their way home and claimed they drove into the remnants of a fading mist and that for the briefest of moments the vehicle went icy cold, they could not explain why, but in seconds it had gone, they had not seen Liza nor heard anything unusual just the strange fog or mist fading away.
Chris had asked the church members if Liza had spoken to them about what was on her mind, it was Jenny’s daughter who possibly gave the answer, and she informed Chris that she had been working with Liza and her mother helping Liza with the research into these strange stories of missing children, she relayed what happened when there had been a sudden knocking upon Liza’s front door and the very home itself went icy cold, she also talked about her concern for Liza as she kept saying, someone needs to take care of these children and protect them from this evil.
Chris knew in his heart what had happened as during his sleep he saw Liza and Jenny looking over a group of dishevelled children like a matriarch would care for its family. Two days after leaving the church late one night, he felt cold, almost icy cold and saw a mist appear but it remained some one metre above the ground and from within the mist as it deepened into a heavy fog, he could just make out the upper half of a sinister looking figure and he could feel the evil radiating from this demonic presence.
For the briefest of moments Chris was taken aback by this sight before him, but his faith was strong and he quoted biblical phrases as they came to his mind, knowing also this was sacred holy ground. It was then it dawned upon him this evil thrived upon fear and he walked boldly out holding his cross and demanding the presence go in the Lords name. It was only after the evil vanished and he heard children laughing that he started to understand, as in the distance between the church entrance and the church doors, he saw fading away a group of children and what he thought was Liza, Jenny and a large dog, possibly a German Shepherd leading the children away.
Only moments before they faded into nothing Liza had turned and smiled at Chris, she looked content and as if all was well, but it had been the briefest of seconds, and Chris was still recovering from the evil presence, and his adrenalin had been heightened and his heart rate was increased, he knew it was both Jenny and Liza, but he never recognised a single child, most were dressed strangely scantily he would say but some appeared to have old but more sensible clothing on, it was a mix, and Chris felt sure the evil presence had been after the children only he had exited the church at that very moment and in some way became involved unintentionally in something incredibly evil.