The Black Monk

The first in my three part haunting.

Another day at college. I decide to pass through the abbey again to get home. I love going through that place, especially on a summer day like this. My cloud white shirt shining in the afternoon sun, and the grass looking more and more green as I travel on. Each blade seemed to be more defined and separate to the other whenever I decided to really soak up the country landscape. It was almost as if I was walking in a high resolution computer game. Vibrant, vivid and impossible to ignore. With such a vivid and delightful description you may be sat there thinking that this isn't going to be the creepiest story you've ever read, and you may be right, but please don't leave yet.

I can't let you go without warning you quickly first. Don't go to the Abbey. NEVER trust him. No matter what he says. And DON'T let her see you. If you're still here I will spare what little time I may have left to explain this to you. For those who have lived a long time in the quiet town of Barrow in North West England, you will have heard the ridiculous rumour about the old Abbey. Some silly child's story about some dead people that apparently "never left".

Anyone in their right mind would dismiss it and never think twice about it, if you are one of those people then do just that. Forget it. Move on. I guess I should get back to the story, I'll explain what lies in the Abbey, then I'll tell you what waited for me. Furness Abbey was a monastery in medieval England somewhere in the 1100's. The haunting of Furness Abbey tells us that there resides two spirits. The first is the one I told you not to trust. The Black Monk.

The Black Monk is supposed to be a full bodied silhouette of a monk who was killed after Henry VIII destroyed the monastery. One of the monks is said to have never moved on from that purge and still wanders the halls of the monastery. The other is the White Lady.

She is the worst. Nobody knows where she came from or who she was, all I know is that she hates me and possibly all men in general. She wanders the woods surrounding the Abbey. I will say this only once. NEVER go into the woods. Outside my college in Barrow was a pathway called Mill Beck that crosses the country fields and farms toward Furness Abbey which then continued out onto Flass Lane near my house. I walked this path a lot on nice days. The Abbey also looked great during the day. I knew about the rumour about Furness Abbey for a long time and I dismissed it for a long time too. Until curiosity killed the cat, as it were.

I was walking past Furness Abbey as per usual when I heard leaves rustle in the forestry next to me. It sounded distant so I brushed it off as a squirrel or a bird. I keep walking and it got closer. It sounded a lot more constant so I assumed it was wind. I know this is where I got scared because there was no wind when I heard that noise. I decide to keep drinking my coke and eating my Greens meat and potato pie. Greens Pies in Barrow, best in the world. I felt warm and calm again.

As the wind is picking up I decide it's time to go home. I finished off my pie and heard the rustling again, this time coming from the Abbey. I look into one of the archways and, at the time, I think I see a shadow leaning on the edge of the archway. The longer I stare the closer it seems to be. SNAP! What sounds to be a large stick snap fully right behind me. I looked around rather frantically but then turned back around to receive the greatest scare of my life. A full bodied shadow standing right in front of me. Face to face.

It was at least two seconds but it felt like two days. Staring into this dark abyss I couldn't focus or think at all. I only felt sad. After falling backwards from the extreme scare I got I looked back and it was gone. I stood up and before I walked away briskly from the scene I looked back at the monastery to see something that only confirmed my fears. Three letters carved into the side of the archway which spelled one word: “G.O.D.” I never walked that path alone again. After about three weeks I easily forgot about that horrifying scene, until my friend decided to go down Mill Beck to get home.

We both lived fairly close to each other. When he said it my mind went blank. My skin felt cold. My heart stopped a few times. Petrified, all I could think of was that awful image of darkness and sorrow in front of the Abbey, staring right into me. He asked me what was wrong in a joking manner.

As someone would when they are trying to say "You are a p***y". I may get scared but I am certainly not a coward. I agreed to go. We went past the Abbey and everything was okay, I looked at the archway and the writing was gone. Such relief felt great. My friend asks me what I keep staring at and he looked at the Abbey. He then taunted me a little on the story about the Black Monk. I put on the most fake smile I could bring. That's when he said the one thing that would set everything in motion. "Let's come back tonight and chat with the monk". I felt sick. The very idea of facing that shadow made me ache all over.

A million thoughts went through my head for a second and then nothing. But the prideful and callous moron in me jumped out and accepted his challenge. That night we went into the Abbey. the monastery itself was closed off but we could still get near enough to it and jump over the railings. And so we did. We went in with our torches, my friend holding a lantern as if he were a caretaker in a haunted house film and me wielding my 6 inch LED torch like a mallet. It was all fairly quiet until about an hour into our trip. My friend was checking out the broken up staircase while I approached the archway with extreme caution and anticipation. I looked out of the archway and saw the country fields under the bright full moon. It was entrancing, I was moulded to the spot until it happened. I felt an ever so slight wave over my neck. I froze on the spot. Small balls of sweat slowly rolling down my head. I felt the frost cling onto my skin and nerves.

I couldn't move. Don't turn around. No matter what. I replayed the dark image I saw over and over again. Then I felt something grab violently at my shoulder.

I leaped at least two feet into the air and let out a cry of fear. What I saw which carried out the action only made it worse. It was my friend behind me with a grin making a huge gap in his head. The little f****r jump scared me while I was staring out into the fields.

While I was gathering myself and he got his fifty chuckles out of my fear I saw a shadow dart quickly from under the stairs out of the corner of my eye. He then stopped and asked me what was wrong. I walked toward the stairs and then I heard a small moan behind me. At this point I was getting tired of everything being behind me so, with confidence, I turned around and saw my friend standing at the archway. He looked different though. Paler than usual. I thought it was just the cold getting to him so I took a step toward him but then at least five steps back.

He was different. He moved out of the shadows with pale white skin. His brown hair had turned to a murky brown, almost black colour His eyes had gone a piercing white and his pupil had shrunk down to the size of a crumb. He slowly advanced toward me with a light yellowish foam seeping out of his mouth. I held up my torch ready to strike my former friend. This wasn't the friend I knew. It was him. The Black Monk. He stopped and donned a raspy, almost demonic voice to relay a message from the monk.

"Repent or face the Devil". He then collapsed and the once peaceful night transformed into a howling, windy night with pouring rain beating down on us both. I dragged him to his feet as he seemed barely alive and I ran toward the nearest exit. I never ran so fast in my life.

At times like this a million thought can go through your head. Mine was only one thought: "RUN". I sprinted as far as I could, I didn't care where I was, anywhere but the Abbey was fine. I was carrying him on my back at this point. As I was running I constantly felt burning on my back and I was in a state of pure fear now, with what felt like the Devil constantly looming over my shoulder, but no matter how fast I ran I knew I wouldn’t get far enough from him.

I finally made it out as I approached the front of the college. I got on the first bus back to Roose by which time my friend had regained consciousness. The ride home was deadly silent. I was staring constantly at my shoes and I looked over at him to see him looking out the window as if nothing had happened. He got off the bus and went his way home and I did the same. I vowed never to go back but it was a lie, and I think a part of me knew it was a lie back then, because when I got home I knew it was far from over. He followed me home.

I immediately went to my room to decide what just happened. My clothes soaking wet. I gathered what little pride I had left and dragged myself to the shower. As I was being drowned in the serene, warm water I felt a searing pain on my back. I cleared the water and soap from my eyes and something caught my eye.

I looked down and saw something that made me more scared than ever. Blood all over the bath. I jumped out of the bath in a whirlwind of terror and looked in the mirror, not a scratch on me. My brain then decided to remind me of the pain I felt on my back. I turned around and held my hand mirror up to the mirror (I used to have long hair, don't judge me). I dropped the mirror and stood paralysed.

My dad rushed into the bathroom asking what was wrong and then found out. Deep cuts buried into my back spelling the sentence: “He dissected Joshua, he burned Joseph and he beheaded Matthew”. I had no idea how to react to this cryptic message. As I read it in the mirror reflection I was still with dread and a cold burning feeling surged down my back causing the wounds to burn as well.