?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

The Old Nick

Some friends invited me on a ghost hunt on Saturday night; not one of those things where a medium takes you around and everybody hears the stories and goes Wooooo. No, it's all a bit more scooby doo and scientific than that; one looks for evidence of paranormal phenomena, and the Old Nick at Gainsborough has quite a reputation.

The theatre was built in the 70s, before that it was a prison, built in the 1880s, with a very high level of deaths among the prisoners. It's pretty, with its railed staircase and pink red walls. The magistrates' court was turned into the auditorium, the cells are below and the wardrobes above, cobwebbed and crumbling, with steps so uncertain that only 2 people can go up at a time. I sat on a chair in one of the walk in rooms, said Hi to anything that might be there, picked up a jacket that was lying crumpled and folded it, placing it on a box on the floor.

We did have all the paraphenalia but we just decided to wander around.The cells were cells...they felt sad of course, but the atmosphere was not heightened by the ghoulish figure hung from the ceiling as a bit of decoration. Dowsing rods crossed, temperature changes occurred but apart from that, it was all very quiet. People felt odd but then we were wandering around an old supposedly very haunted building in the dark. Not to feel odd would have been odd.

We placed a trigger object next to a door where someone thought they had seen a figure watching. It was a small box of sand with stones resting lightly on it. We left it there while examining the rest of the room, and came back to find five little indentations in it, like small fingerprints. A little glass work was attempted. I am not a fan of this, as it's my opinion that any kind of ouija may be a trigger for the subconscious mind, but is no real indicator of external activity. The glass moved a little decisively, a little indecisively. We left it. Returning upstairs towards midnight, we went into the room where I had folded the jacket. Right next to it on the floor was a mask. It hadn't been there before, or I would have trodden on it. My companion noted that the box itself had been straight and now appeared tilted, but I hadn't noted that before so couldn't comment. In the other room, things seemed to have moved, a purple ribbon, a hanger with number 33 written on it; little tiny things you couldn't be sure not to have missed in the first place. The fire extinguisher was pretty definite though: we were discussing what to do next when we turned around to see the hose out of its holster/grip whatever they are called, stuck right out across the doorway. We all stood there wondering if we had gone mad. This wasn't something you could have gone past without it smacking you in the stomach. One of our number had just been taking photos of the area, so we could check. Sure enough it had been perfectly normal just minutes before.

Back downstairs between the auditorium and the dressing rooms, the chief ghost hunter and I stood looking around when suddenly we heard it; very distinctive measured footsteps below, about 6/8 treads. Then it stopped. We looked at each other and shone our torches down the stairs.There was no one there, and only the back door out. At the same time, the two who were now investigating the wardrobes came down to tell us they had just heard three very clear tapping sounds.

Gainsborough being in the middle of god-forsaken land, we had to leave, what with a 2 hour drive back to Stevenage. But I wouldn't mind another look at the Old Nick at some point. It didn't escape us that all the activity seemed to really liven up between 11 and 1. Definitely worth checking out again.

Profile

default
smokingboot
smokingboot

Latest Month

April 2017
S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      

Tags

Powered by LiveJournal.com