Chester must be busting a gut trying to maintain the infrastructure with the sheer volume of entities living or otherwise inhabiting this city on the banks of the River Dee. You can pick from many a haunted hostelry but I’m settling for an area know as The Groves near St John’s Church, said to be haunted by a monk. He apparently walks around the place and appears to be a spooky greyish monk. He also speaks to people in Anglo Saxon. Edward agreed to accompany me on the evening vigil but you can’t help feeling that we’re receiving a slightly suspicious look from the eyes of others, mortal that is, as we prepare cameras and all the techno gizmos and wait.

 

The story according to Edward is that the monk has appeared on numerous occasions. A Franciscan Friar, in times gone by, witnessed the apparition and having interest in language determined after research that the monk was speaking Anglo Saxon. Children have been shaken by his appearance as they walk from the alley. I suppose there are a hundred of these stories all over the place but I want to see him for myself.

 

The Vigil (notes from diary)

 

It’s after midnight and not so warm. Noise coming from city. We’re very visible to the night, as opposed to invisible like our monk at the moment.

 

Moved around a bit and got in amongst the shadows. Dark places, the ordinary seems to take on different shapes, eyes start to play tricks. At least that’s my story and its comforting, don’t tell me any different.

 

2:44 am its bloody cold now, and I’m tired, hungry from snacking on bits. Not much to report accept you get a sense of someone watching you from a dark shadow. Probably just a heightened sense of anticipation.

 

3:18 am cold, very cold, find it hard to write, something doesn’t feel right. Edward over to my left, I can’t see him but sense him.

 

3:30 am just checked watch, very quiet, seems really still, not sure, Ed not moved, still there. BHELL!!

 

Back in van

 

Don’t know what that was, but that scared us. Stupid response, both of us ran off, thankfully brought the gear back, but that scared didn’t snap pictures. I thought Edward was over to my left. No he was over to my right, it was when he whispered something that threw me, but what was on my left?

 

It seemed like an optical illusion in my peripheral vision, it took the form of a figure and the air suddenly seemed full of static electricity. It was the illusion that spooked me because it didn’t seem it was a real mortal playing a trick on us.

 

In the van we can laugh about it now, trying to put a rational explanation on the occurrence. It makes it all the worse that two grown men got scared of a shadow, not a good start for a journey to haunted and mysterious sites in the UK.

 

Willoughby Bedford Esq.
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