Where the Spirit Leads: Haunting Stories and Poems

By Samuel Pardew

This book is a product of a spooky imagination and frightening influences. It is something that has developed over time from staying in cemeteries long after dark, reading ghost stories, and following a spirit that leads through the dark and haunted places so cherished.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647015367

Book preview

cover.jpgtitle

Copyright © 2020 Samuel Pardew

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2020

ISBN 978-1-64701-535-0 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-64701-536-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

Monastery Spirits

Places of the Dead

Werewolves

The Ghost of Black Virgin Mountain

Invasion

Ole Burlap

My Dog's Bones

Bump in the Night

My Coffin

It Flew Across the Moon

Things I've Seen

Halloween

Hooves

The Hant

Bury Me in a Shallow Grave

The Ghost of Lon Goner

Strange Creatures

Formaldehyde Clyde

The Headless Horseman

A Child's Grave

The Creeper, the Lurker, and the Spook

Avery Cadaver

The Night the Goblins Fly

Witch's Cauldron

Towsack Jack

Hook and Eye

The Church

Burlap Men

Demons

Crouch and Spring

Statues

Did Somebody Die in My House?

Mysterious Creation

To GOD, to my publication coordinator, Katie and everyone at Page Publishing and to my typist Mrs. Melanie Griffin

—My thanks

1

Voices of the Choir

Just married, a young husband and wife found a place in the country to live. While out for a drive on a Sunday evening, they passed an old church. It appeared to be deserted, yet the young wife heard the faint singing of a choir.

Stop the car, she said to her husband.

What? What is it? he asked.

I thought I heard voices, she replied.

Bringing the car to a halt on the old dirt road, they both listened.

I don't hear anything, said the husband.

Well, now I don't hear it, but I'm sure I heard voices singing like a choir, said the wife.

It could not have been coming from that old place, said the husband. It looks to be empty and left to ruin.

I know, said the wife. It sounded like it was coming from quite a way off. Listen, there it is again! she said excitedly.

Her husband turned the engine off to listen.

Yes, I can barely hear it, he said, looking at his wife. It must be coming from some distance, from some other place. The wind can carry sounds a long way, you know, said the husband.

Yes, the wife replied. That must be it.

The man's wife was a natural at singing, especially choir hymns. She had been raised singing in the choir at her old church.

I won't worry, her husband said to her, smiling. If there's a choir around, I know you'll find it, and if you don't, then you can just keep singing for me around the house.

She smiled back at him, for she knew her husband truly loved to hear her voice, especially when she sang. It could be said, as a matter of fact, that her voice was soft and pleasing to any ear.

The couple started off again and made their way back home. The young woman felt captivated by what she had heard, and wondered to herself about the origin of the voices. She became more and more intent on hearing them again. As they arrived at their home, she realized that their house was not very far from the old church. She resolved to herself to visit the place on her own when she could get the chance just to satisfy her curious mind, for it seemed that the old church was calling to her.

Her chance came soon.

One evening, while her husband was occupied with his own business, the young woman decided to go for a walk by herself down the lane to the old church. Even though it was getting dark, she felt safe out in the country. As she strolled along, she slowed down and listened.

Yes, she said. There it is again.

As a breeze blew toward her, she could hear the voices she had heard before being carried by the wind. She knew it was not her imagination; the sound of the choir was coming from the deserted old church, strangely enough. The young woman hurried her pace, drawing ever closer and went finally through the doors, into the darkness within the interior of the old church.

Later that night, the wife returned to her husband and told him that she had found the choir that they had heard of and that she was invited to join. She said to him that she had never spent a more wonderful evening.

Where was the choir? asked her husband.

It was at the old church, she replied.

Well, I thought that place was deserted, He said. He awaited her reply.

No, it wasn't deserted after all, she said dreamily.

Finding her way back to a more present state of mind, she told him about the choir and when they congregate for practice.

Okay, said her husband. If it makes you happy.

It does, she replied as she paused and gazed out through the window into the dark of night.

As time passed, the husband noticed that his young wife was taking on a kind of pallor. She had been spending more and more of the evening hours away at choir practice, each time returning home in a trancelike state yet pleasant as always.

One morning, the husband awoke to find that his young wife had died during the night. She had wasted away, it seemed, as she lay beside him. The young man was left bewildered…

He buried her in the old churchyard with the assistance of the local undertaker and the caretaker of the cemetery. After the service was concluded, the young man asked if either of the other men knew of anyone who was a member of the choir that met at the old church. The caretaker, responding in surprise and with a confused look on his face, said that there hadn't been anything going on at the old church for many years. He then said that he was quite sure that there was no such choir.

Looking at the troubled young man, the caretaker asked, Are you all right?

The young man was staring at the old church. Yes, he said with tears still in his eyes. I'm all right.

Well, said the caretaker. I'll be going then.

The young man was left alone by the side of his wife's freshly covered grave. He thought about how unnatural it all had been, how his wife had been taken from him, and how mysterious the choir was. As he looked down at his wife's grave and then up at the church, he could hear a slow, dirgelike rise and fall of voices that seemed to be coming from within the church. He approached and went inside where he could hear it all too clearly. As he listened in horror, he could hear the soft voice of his wife mingling with the others and realized the meaning of it all. Her soul had been claimed by a phantom congregation; her voice was one of an unearthly choir.

THE END

2

Across the Fields

It was a fall day—the sky was overcast and gloomy. A family was out in the fields, picking cotton. The children had heard noises the night before and had been trying to spook one another with talk of specters and ghosts. There were three young children: a boy, a girl, and a little sister at the age of three.

The two older children who were picking at the cotton, while playing half of the time, didn't notice their younger sister standing out in the field farthest away from anyone, with her eyes fixed on something across the way. With a rapid movement, the little girl turned and ran toward her mother, scattering the dirt clods from her tiny hands and crying out, Momma, Momma! She ran up into her mother's arms then turned and pointed toward the thing that frightened her. Their mother was startled at the fearful behavior of her youngest child and called out for the other two children to gather closer to her.

While viewing the ground between where they stood and the horizon, the mother wondered what could have been seen from the youngest child's point of view. The other two children gathered around asking, What is it? and What's wrong? Their mother told them to stay close, for something had frightened their little sister. The older boy looked about, while the two girls clung to their mother's cotton dress.

As the sun declined, the four could hear the sound of the father's wagon drawing closer rather quickly. Upon arrival, he told them that they should all get in the wagon and that he would explain things on the way to the house.

Have y'all seen anything odd today? asked Father.

"Nothing other than the baby acting like she had seen something that scared her,