THE GHOST WHO SMELLED OF FLOWERS

My encounter occurred in a reputable hotel in the quiet town of Hay-on-Wye, located on the border of England and Wales. This sleepy town is famous for its countless bookshops, however because it is located so close to the English/Welsh border and has provided an idyllic setting for countless historic battles over the centuries, you will appreciate that the likelihood of this town boasting a ghost or two is high! The particular hotel I stayed in was owned and managed at the time by the parents of a friend. I had heard on numerous occasions about my friend's parents being visited by ghosts regularly. They were almost a common occurrence that they, the hotel staff and some guests had become accustomed to. Despite these numerous sightings over the years, the proprietors were reluctant to promote the fact that hotel was haunted for their own reasons .I was informed that the most sightings in this hotel occurred in Room 11, and it was there I was determined to spend a few nights. Guests had previously complained of lights turning on by themselves, bed covers being removed, and locked doors being found wide open in the morning. I was not massively intrigued by such reports, they sounded very much in the vein of what one might consider ideal for a Hollywood storyline. I was much more intrigued by reports of Cromwell-esque soldiers seen marching through the walls of the cellar. If Room 11 proved to be a non-event, I was very prepared to focus my attention on the cellar, but was prepared to investigate what Room 11 had to offer in the first instance. My first night in Room 11 was completely uneventful. The room itself mirrored the creaky, antiquated history of the hotel, and was impressive with its low ceilings, massive beams and warped plastered walls. Having been allowed unlimited free access to the hotel bar by my friend's father, it is fair to say that my sleep that night was indeed a deep one. Quite frankly, the room could have been full of every ghost imaginable, poltergeists could well have chosen to do their worst that night and I would have been none the wiser! When I awoke the next morning, nothing suggested that I had had any deceased visitors during the night. In fact, the sunlight coming through the windows suggested quite the contrary. My second night however proved much more interesting. Given that my second stay in the hotel was on a Saturday night and the hotel was noticeably busier than the previous evening, I recall thinking that the overall atmosphere probably didn't provide the setting a ghost would prefer to make an appearance in. I was therefore happy to relax in the hotel bar along with other guests and public customers and stumbled wearily to Room 11 just after midnight. By this time, the hotel was clearly winding down for the night. I was awoken later by an intense feeling of cold. The numbers on the digital clock next to me illuminated a section of the room a dull red and confirmed the time was 2:30am. It was apparent that the coldness I was feeling was not similar to that you would feel from an open window or a draft. I recall a similar feeling of coldness on my face walking through a supermarket's frozen meat aisle. It clung to me. I could almost see it. I lay still for a long time, but not out of fear. I felt more excited than scared. This unnatural cold I was experiencing suggested that my stay at this reputable haunted hotel was not going to be an uneventful one. The adrenaline rushing through my body also suggested that I was not going to sleep for some time yet, so I chose to lie still and watch whatever transpired. Very little happened for what seemed like a very long time. At times, I was certain the coldness had a motion to it, like a repetitive swirl, although I could see nothing. But it remained, and constantly staring into darkness was making me drowsy despite a ghostly encounter still being a possibility. The time was now 3:15 am, not even an hour had passed since I awoke. I decided that I would try to sleep and hoped that the next time I was disturbed, it would be to witness some poltergeist activity or at least an apparition of some sort! I awoke just in time for the last plate of breakfast, at 9:15. Much of my final day was spent exploring the town of Hay, but my thoughts were constantly on my experience of the previous night. Sunday afternoon was spent in discussion with my friend's family about their ghostly experiences. I was told that the hotel generally experienced some sort of paranormal activity almost every evening. This activity ranged from the unnatural coldness I had felt, through to ghostly apparitions so lifelike that many guests had been both terrified and embarrassed to have actually said "Hello" or "Good morning" to these nocturnal visitors. I was again told that Room 11 was the best place to be should one wish to have such an experience. My final night in the room was not disappointing. I was awoken again, this time at 2:00 am. I was again aware of the coldness in the room, but was positive that on this occasion the cold was accompanied by a smell, a distinctive scent. The smell was soapy, like a faint perfume. At other times, I thought it smelt more like flowers but it was there nonetheless and it was definitely not there when I went to bed earlier. The coldness WAS moving. It was more noticeable on this occasion that the previous night. Before, I had sensed the coldness was moving very slowly but in circular motions, almost as if it was trying to assess me, sounding me out. This time, the swirling cold was moving faster, as if it was trying to accelerate the arrival of something (or someone!). I recall thinking that maybe this was a different cold, perhaps more than one this time. Perhaps also, it WAS the coldness I experienced last night but it felt comfortable with my presence to be able to behave in a way that it might have wanted to do previously. All these thoughts were going through my head. Then I noticed it, a mist swirling between the door and a window on an adjacent wall. This was not an illusion or trick of the light. What I was seeing was definitely there. This mist was not fog-like though. It swirled, as if trying to create a form for itself, and looked more like the vapour given by dry ice than a moisture-based mist or smoke. It had weight, mass. It didn't swirl outside of agreed boundaries it had set for itself yet it was moving toward the wall on the other side of the room. The mist gave the appearance of hovering about four feet from the floor, but I became aware that the limited light coming in through the window was dictating how much of it I was able to see. The mist appeared to be a few feet off the floor but because the first foot was in darkness I was unable to see if the mist did actually touch the floor. The coldness prevailed as did the flowery smell, and the mist continued to move toward the wall opposite where it disappeared on contact. Whether the mist only went as far as the wall before dissipating or if it actually passed through the wall into the corridor, I will never know. The coldness and smell were not as strong but perhaps I had become accustomed to them. The rest of the evening was completely uneventful although I did not sleep for the remainder of the night. I lay awake, watching the darkness turn to a royal blue then sunlight, in awe of the rare and amazing spectacle I had witnessed. I left the next morning and chose not to tell my friends, his parents or the hotel staff of my experience for a number of reasons. In fact, the above testament is the first time I have told anybody. I would recommend visiting the town of Hay-on-Wye in any case, but if it is ghosts you want, there aren't many hotels in the town. You should find the one I stayed in without too much difficulty. Remember to ask for Room 11. Alternatively, the cellar could provide the venue for a very interesting evening. Should I return to hotel, I would most certainly investigate what it has to offer. Thanks for reading! Jeff

My Friends House I have a really close friend whose name is Jessica. She has always told me that her house is haunted. She told me that her niece Emily always talk to the ghost family. Emily is the only one that can see or talk, but all of her family can hear them. I never ever believed Jessica until the weekend that her parents went away. Jessica and I got home kinda late and we sat down to watch television, and she asked me if I heard the little girl ghost crying, I didn't hear anything nor did I believe Jessica. After, we were done watching television we went out to get something to eat. We were gone about an hour. We got back and decided to watch a movie, nothing scary just a comedy. Just as we sat down to watch it the phone rang, it was her sister, so Jessica asked me to mute the tv. So she talked to her sister and hung up the phone, just as she hung up Jessica and I heard a little girl scream. Jessica said "ok I will just pretend that I didn't hear that", I didn't say anything. I didn't want to say that I heard it cause it would scare Jessica. So we finished up watching the movie and we decided to go to bed. Well seeing that I was terrified at this time I didn't want to. Jessica fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, I on the other hand just sat in bed wide awake. After about an hour or so I heard music playing downstairs coming from her brothers room ( keep in mind Jessica and I are the only ones here, everyone else was on vacation) so I went down to see if we left the TV on. We didn't , so I went to her brothers room, the only problem is that his door was locked and there was music coming from his room. At this point I was so scared that there was nothing I could do but run back up to Jessicas room. As I ran up her steps the we two sets of footsteps mine and someone elses that I couldn't see. Something was coming up the steps behind me, but no one was there. As soon as I went through Jessicas bedroom door it stopped. I didn't sleep the rest of the night at all, nor did I ever spend the night at Jessicas house ever again. I think that if whatever that was going to hurt me it would have, so I still visit Jessica every now and again. A Babies Ghost Story I was studying for a diploma in nursery nursing and was on placement in a nursery. The room that I was in had a conservatory attached to it that had cots and prams in it for the babies to sleep in. There were also a few toys in there for when the young babies were in there. While I was there I heard stories of ghosts of babies being seen. Apparently one to the nursery nurses had seen a baby dressed in a blue cardigan sitting in a pram when there were no babies in there. One day we were sitting in the conservatory when most of the babies were asleep. One of the staff suddenly turned round and then turned back to us. When we asked what was the matter she said that she had seen a baby sitting behind her dressed in a brown cardigan. However there was no baby sitting where she said. I dismissed it as her imagination until one day a few weeks later. On that day we were all sitting in the main part of the room with all of the babies. All of a sudden I heard a baby crying in the conservatory. When I looked to see if there was a baby in there the crying stopped but there was no baby there. As I turned back round one of the nursery nurses asked me if I had heard a baby crying as well. I said yes but all the babies were with us in the main room. I never found out what happened in that room though the house is very old. Oreos We had moved into my husbands grandparents old house. I was told that it was over 100 years old and had burned down and been rebuilt once. His grandparents died there. They are buried only about 4 blocks away. Anyway that was all I knew about his grandparents. His father and he are not the sentimental type who sit around and reminisce, and I don't pry. I am a compulsive midnight snacker especially Oreos they call to me when I buy them and I have to get up and eat them. One night I had a tall glass of milk in front of me and I was munching oreos the lights were off with only a small nightlight on I am not afraid of the dark and I don't like company when I eat. Any way I could feel eyes on me thinking my husband had caught me snacking I turned toward the bedroom and there as clear as any person was a very tall heavy man standing between the bedroom and the front door! He was just watching me eat he was wearing an undershirt and boxer shorts, he was heavy and balding. I ran for the bathroom and stayed there for a long time when I finally came out he was gone. The next day I told my husband about it he was stunned, as it turns out his grandfather liked oreos too and would get up during the night to eat them he also was large, balding, and slept in his undershirt and boxer shorts!!I guess I should have offered him some oreos, but I am afraid he might have accepted. I should also mention I have never even seen pictures of this man. He died in 85 I think but I have never seen or heard much about him even now. Butchy this is a true story that happend to me and my wife! by silverpirate@hotmail.com It was three years ago. My wife and I had just bought our first house; it was in a newly-onstructed community. In fact, we were on the last street (row of houses) and directly across the street was a few acres of wooded land. It was thick with underbrush and mostly older trees. "Anyway, it was late one night in August and the wind outside was kicking up quite a bit. The sky was overcast with dark, heavy clouds, and looking out our front kitchen window we could see occasional lightning a mile or so away in the sky above the woods. Thunder cracked overhead. "At 11 p.m. or so, we heard scratching on, and the shaking of, the wooden front gate/door into our back yard (it was just outside the kitchen, to the left of the house). That meant only one thing, the same thing it meant every time it thundered, that our six-year-old german shepard dog, Butchy, was freaking out again and hopping the fence. Every time the clouds rolled in, the thunder clapping, he rolled out. He'd run to the woods across the street, charging about ten feet straight in and then ten feet to the right, where an old picnic table sat covered with pine needles and other tree leaves, partially hidden by tall weeds and bushes. "I ran out the front door, my wife following as far as the edge of the porch, and started across the street. I saw Butchy waiting at the edge of the woods, directly in front of me, just watching me approach. With another clap of thunder, Butchy was off into the thicket and the darkness of trees. "As I started in, my wife yelled (barely audible over the wind), 'Be careful! Its dark.' I couldn't see Butchy, but I heard his thrashing about already in the direction of that picnic table. I yelled his name. His only reply was a louder thrashing about and a low growling. I thought that a bit strange, but with the scared state he was in he'd probably growl at any varmint he saw. After going in about three feet, and heading diagonally toward the picnic table, I heard Butchy growl rather loudly (especially over that wind), and then bark ... cut off with a yelp the likes of which I hadn't heard since the time he was a puppy and I accidently stepped on his tail. Not knowing what to make of it, I thought I had better run back to the house and grab a flashlight. If Butchy had somehow hurt himself and was lying in that thick underbrush I'd have a heck of a time finding him in the dark. As I approached the outer edge of the woods, I saw my wife now by the mailbox at the end of the driveway. She looked in my direction and began screaming, 'Get the f--- outta there! Now, honey! Run!' I didn't know what to make of that, but it so startled me I took off back across the street. "As I ran up to her, she threw her arms around me and started crying. 'Oh, god. I was so afraid you wouldn't come back out!' Puzzled, I asked her what she meant, and started to explain how I was coming back for a flashlight to find Butchy easier. 'Look,' she interrupted me, 'just look!' as she pointed towards the woods about three or four feet to the right of where I had emerged. "Looking back at the woods, I saw a startling sight. A pair of eyes. Red. Glowing. Unblinking. About seven feet from the ground. Smoldering and peering out from the wooded darkness just a few feet from where I had been. From where I'd be right now if I hadn't come back out. From where I had last heard Butchy yelp. "I got my gun from the house. When we both came back out, the eyes were gone. Working up my courage, I announced I had to go get Butchy. My wife threw herself on me, ordering me not to go. Telling me if I did I'd have to drag her with me because she wasn't letting go. "As we argued for a few minutes, it began to pour. She convinced me Butchy was either hiding under the table or still running, either way he wouldn't come back voluntarily until the storm passed. Past occurences told me this, we had never been able to coax, cajole or drag him back until the weather cleared. Usually, as dawn broke the next day we'd hear him stratching at the front door. So, we both went inside. Scared and wet. Go to Ghost Stories Page 7