The Haunting of Gorstone Manor - Part One - The Dark Stranger
He stood next to his black Ford Saloon car, the collar of his coat turned up to keep out the cold, he was clothed from head to foot in a black cowboy style hat with a long black leather coat and black skinny jeans. He was a tall, well-built man in his thirties, with short dark hair and sideburns, the five day growth of stubble on his chin the result of not shaving due to his total devotion to meditating prior to every investigation he went on, and he was able to handle himself if he needed to. But it was very rare that anyone bothered him, and when someone tried to, well they soon backed off. Maybe it was the glint in his steely grey eyes, or just the mere presence of the man that made people back off or leave him alone. The mist began to rise as he stood staring down the long dark lane, which was lit by the silver light of the crescent moon, which made the leaves and spider’s cobwebs glisten in the darkness.
Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a pack of chewing gum, and placed the small rectangle mint flavoured gum into his mouth and began to chew slowly while he stood gazing down the lane and at the metal gate which had a sign saying KEEP OUT painted on it, pondering, wondering, then finally, climbing over the gate and hitching his back pack onto his right shoulder, the man began his walk down the lane. He knew what he was looking for, had planned this trip four months in advance. He was a paranormal expert and a demonologist and headed a small team called, Carfax Spirit Investigators, but for this trip he wanted to do it alone. He felt tense as he walked the dark dirt path, which was now beginning to get soggy and he began to feel his boots getting sucked into small areas of damp wet mud.
An owl screeched out disturbing the tranquillity of the night air, and he heard the rustling of branches as the owl made its journey through the dense woodland that lay either side of the dirt track. As he rounded a right bend in the lane he thought he heard movement ahead, stopping, he focused hard and listened to see if he could hear the sound again. Movement again, the man gripped his flashlight and flicking it on, moved the white beam of light to the area of movement. A badger which now stood frozen by the light looked at him. The man gave a wry smile and switching it off he continued his journey along the dark soggy lane.
The man came to the end of the lane and stood in front of a large oak doorway that was embedded in a tall solid sandstone wall, which he knew, was the perimeter wall of the place he wanted to be in. Dropping his back pack onto the floor, he unzipped it and retrieved a long piece of metal which was bent at either end. As quietly as he could he jimmied open the oak door and silently retrieved his back pack and made his way through the entrance. Closing the door behind him, he looked ahead at the large gothic mansion that had been abandoned for years, abandoned because of its history, because of the stories, because no one dared to set foot in the place, quite simply, because it was haunted.