British Institute for Paranormal Investigation


14th August 2008



                              Nick Jessop was sitting at his office desk, busily typing away on his computer, he stopped to read over what he had written so far, it was terrible,

“The most terrifying night of my life and on paper it just reads like very bad fiction” he told the empty office. 

                             Two years earlier, Nick and his ex-partner Gareth Clarke, had been assigned to investigate strange goings on at a manor house in the nearby county of Berkshire.  Nick had been finding the job mundane and boring and was on the verge of giving up, when things had turned into a living nightmare, the two of them had barely escaped with their lives, Gareth had resigned, he had never been the same after that night, but Nick had found a new lease on the job and sunk himself into his work.  Nick suddenly jumped in his seat as a head appeared besides his,

“I looked into her mist like dead eyes and found I was being pulled from the real world and into the past, into the body of her insane axe wielding husband....Nick seriously, you have got to get over this” it was Terry Mansfield, the recently promoted department head at BIPI,

“Sorry, Terry” Nick switched his monitor off, “I’ve finished the report of the ‘Six Acres Haunting’, just thought I’d get some work on the book done”,

“You mean you’re still planning on publishing?”

“You know I am, Terry, I can lie in all the reports you want, sign anything and tell anyone whatever you think it will take explain what happened in that house that night, but the truth is what it is, Gareth and I were almost killed”

“So you keep saying”.

Terry did not look convinced, he had been working late in the office the night in question, Gareth and Nick had tried to email him some footage to examine, unfortunately he never received it, or rather, he did, but the footage had been tampered with, the apparition they had capture was not present in the film, Terry had dismissed it as two bored men playing a joke,

“Anyway, if you can year yourself away for a couple of days, I have something for you”

“Is it in anyway related to a manor house, woman in white or axe murders?”


“Then I’m in” Nick beamed “what’s the job?”

“I need you to go to a little place called...well, Little Horksley, its near Colchester, we’ve received no less than forty calls in the last week...”


“May I continue?”

“Sorry, Terry”

“Yes, forty calls in the last week, all from residents of this village”

“What are they seeing?”

“Not what, who, lots of them”

“You mean we’re dealing with a multiple haunting?”

“Quite, the local officials are at their wits end, Nick, they say calling us was a last resort option and they want our most discreet investigator”

“And you’re sending me?”

“Well, you are supposed to be the best”

“I’d love to know who started that rumour”

“I’ve told them you’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon, take a train from Liverpool Street, I’ve hired you a car, it’ll be waiting at the station”

“What about equipment?”

“Well, until you have a fix on what’s going on, the standard equipments not going to be much use, is it?  Take a camera and temperature reader, laptop and modem, keep in touch, if you do find anything that requires more, I’ll send Fran and Mark down later, OK?”

“Sounds like a plan boss”

“And stop calling me boss” and with that, Terry left Nick in the office.

                                Nick turned back to the monitor and turned it on, he re read what he had been writing before Terry had come in, this was never going to sell, what had been terrifying to live through, was going to bore the reader to death, if he wanted to tell his story, he would need more than this, a lot more.  Nick picked up the phone on his desk and dialled an inside line,

“Hey Fran, its Nick”

“Hey Nick, what’s up?”

“I need a digi-cam, lots of batteries, a temp reader and laptop with modem”

“Going on a date?”

Nick laughed “Yeah, got a hot picnic in the country with some dead farmers, maybe you and Mark can join me later”

“Sounds like fun, I’ll have the gear ready by the time you leave for the night”

“Thanks Fran, talk soon” Nick hung up and grabbed his shoulder bag from the desk, he walked over to a book shelf and started shovelling the usual literature into his bag.  As he packed his little bag, Nick started thinking about Gareth and all the boring assignments they’d had before Slough, for a moment, he was tempted to call him, see if he fancied one last trip into the unknown, Gareth had been a good scientist, and a good friend, and Nick would blame himself for what happened to them both for the rest of his life.

The End

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