Ghostly Tales

Hallowe'en is almost upon us. 'Upon us' makes it sound even spookier I think.
And it is Tuesday and a rainy day here by the seashore but, never fear!  Toni has supplied us with some spooky questions for the meme this week. Her logo is the link if you care to join in and we all know you want to.
  

Ghostly Tell Tales 
1.   Believe in ghosts, spirits, or the supernatural?
Yes, but not ghosts or spirits of those who have passed away. They must mind their own business.


2.   Ever had a supernatural experience?
Yes.   A wadded up piece of paper flew across the room one time while my little family and I were sitting in our family room.
No one else was around to have thrown it.
I always know certain things and have never been wrong. I won't say what those things are.   It would maybe shake you up a bit.

3.   Favorite horror film?
No. I do not like horror films at all. Horror is a very evil form of mind control and propaganda designed to deform and twist minds. You might like to Check out E. Michael Jones' book on horror and its rise titled  Monsters from the Id: The Rise of Horror Fiction and Film.

 Mystery film are what I like.   For instance: And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie' or her  Hallowe'en Party.  Both were done on British TV and were great!
You can find them online in various places, I am sure.
Hallowe'en Party was with Miss Ariadne Oliver, another great Christie character working with Poirot on occasion.
You'll enjoy the films and you will enjoy the books as well.  

4.   Finish this line: Silently I walk in the moonless night____?
 I can hear the owls hooting back and forth to one another in the woods,   Are they watching for prey?

 Yes, of course, isn't everyone these days and why should owls be any different.
I shook my head to get that kind of thought our of my mind. "No, not good,"I say to myself."It's just not good to think that way ". I feel miserable, angry, burdened.

My senses are alive and heightened by the happenings of the day. I can hear every stirring of the leaves and  yes, I can even hear them falling around me as I walk on.
 "Am I  too late?" I think I might be and hurry my steps a bit. But the road is wet from an earlier rain making my way slippery on the fallen leaves and I  slow my pace again. Two steps forward , three back. I feel like time is dragging. I want to be there now and know, see and discover.
It seems like hours until I see the faint yellow glow of that house through the trees. Soft light spills  down the steps and onto the yard setting an eerie glow. And, is it foggy? Why does a mist seem to rise up from the ground. Never mind, keep on.
I leave the cobbled road and step into the grounds through the big black gate.
Yes, there are the grave stones. I hurry forward now having better purchase on the grass and make my way to the graves in the little wooded alcove near the house.  It's pleasant in the daylight. A marble bench to sit on, a small pond and fountain and trees in a semi circle round the two graves. But at night the maples overarching presence is ominous and looks like gnarled fingers reaching down to  grab me . I am unnerved by it all.
There is  no moon, and the sky is filled with stars that give no light.  There is just enough light from the house to see the names on the headstones:

Eliza Amundsen Stone

Edward Stone 1820-1910, says one.
The other: Eliza Amundsen Stone 1835 - 1865.
 Ninety years he lived and most of those years without her.
Eliza Amundsen Stone  died in a boating accident on  the lake when she was not yet 30 years old. She'd  been known for her beauty and grace and many of the local young men pined after her when she married Edward Stone who was  15 years her senior. No one understood the attraction but Eliza saw something in him that no one else did I suppose.
 Edward became a bitter man after Eliza passed on and he seemed determined to make everyone around him as miserable as he was.   He did a good job of it too. He'd gone a far cry from the man he used to be.
It was the county scuttlebutt that Edward Stone would kill anyone who got in his way. Now,I don't know if he did ,but, I know he had a mighty strange way of living his life.
 He did alchemical experiments in  the  big shed out back,  experiments designed to bring back the dead.  Oh how he wanted her back.
People tried to talk sense to him but, some disappeared trying.   It was, of course, never proven but, as I say, they blamed Edward.   Even after his death many held him responsible for the rash of deaths in the county.   And now, today,  right here in 1925, just this morning Edward was seen (so it is reported) by a group of young people at the site of the murder of a man who had trespassed into the shed a few days earlier and stolen Edward's alchemy work books.
Someone reported the break in  and the police were called out  to  arrest  one Jim  Braun, known full well in these parts for pranks and mischief!     However, Braun , a  ranch hand, was out of jail  by noon and dead  just a few hours later,. They found him hung from the big old oak tree just over there to the left of the house.   It's not easy to see tonight. Look close,there, just around the side of the veranda.
An anonymous benefactor paid his bail.
Who you ask?  Yeah, who in the world?  Everyone in the county knew Jim needed a stay in jail to sort him out.  Yes, sir. Everyone agreed to that.

Edward  T. Stone

Oh, yes, you are wondering how those young people knew it was Edward aren't you?  Well ,of course,you wouldn't know.
See, old Mr. Stone's portrait hangs in the county building, the county library and the court house, not to mention in the county high school and several elementary schools.
 Did I mention he was as rich as Croesus?  Well, he was. Not too stingy either as he built most of the county seat here and financed a lot of projects.  He might have been bitter, but he wasn't cheap. People had to give him that much.
Now, you see, the problem is that Edward Stone's grave was open this afternoon and the coffin and body were gone. Yup, all of it just gone.The police report stated that.   Now, you have to admit that is strange. And stranger still because now, here tonight, right here, right in front of me, the grave is closed and dirt banked up over it and grown over with grass just as if nothing had happened. I am not sure I want to know either, but, it's why I am here isn't it?
Some light  in the parlor  was on so I walked up to the porch and pulled back the heavy iron door knocker to make myself known......
to be continued.. maybe.