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THE ASSIGNMENT – THE Ghost of Lady Morwenna
Location – Port Isaac, Cornwall
Activity Level – Allegedly high
I stared at the blinking cursor; how the hell had I ended up here? I started investigating the paranormal because I truly believed that there was another world, another space that we couldn’t see, but was just as real as the reality around us. Now after two years of chasing crap leads from jumpy teens, I was at my wits end. This wasn’t what I’d had in mind when I was approached by my friend, now boss, to join his paranormal team as an investigator/writer.
What I thought was going to be a job where I could investigate credible leads that might one day provide undeniable proof of the spirit world, turned out to be a job chasing leads that had no activity—despite very strong claims that it was the most haunted location they’d ever been to—but no matter if I spent a week or a night at these places, it was all the same. A floor board might creak if I was lucky.
So, this is how I find myself in Cornwall, with a decidedly pessimistic view of the few days that lie before me. So far, the strangest thing that I’d encountered was the owner of this property. Strange woman and the definition of spooky, however, she was very much alive.
I shook my head as I recalled the incident. When she’d opened the door of the main house, she looked right at me and screamed before slamming the door in my face.
With a raised eyebrow and a ‘what the hell’ expression on my face, I gingerly knocked again.
“Be gone demon!” she screeched through the door.
“What the shit is going on?” I grumbled to myself, then spoke louder so she could hear me through the thick wooden door. “Um, not a demon; just a guest trying to book in.”
A moment of silence stretched into what felt like an eternity before slowly the door began to open. Not much more than a crack, but it was progress.
“Who are you?” she whispered to me.
“Jared Holmes.” I answered, trying my best to appear non-threatening; not that I really knew what I possibly could have done to scare her before and then be called a demon. “Villagers,” I muttered under my breath.
Still studying me intently, like a mouse waiting for a cat to pounce, she said, “I do have someone booked in under that name.”
I fought to keep the agitation from my expression. “Then perhaps you might consider letting me in?”
I watched the struggle on her face and groaned internally. Finally, she must have come to a decision for the door began to open further.
“My apologies,” she said without the slightest bit of remorse and indicated with a sweep of her hand that I should enter. I didn’t hesitate in case she changed her mind and started screaming, “Demon, Demon,” again.
Honestly, if this were happening to someone else, and I’d heard the story, I’d be rolling on the floor in laughter, but it wasn’t happening to someone else; I was the schmuck.
She walked to the large wooden table that dominated the entry; I say entry, but you could fit my entire studio apartment in it. She opened a book that looked as ancient as the table, and the rest of the house, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. Hanging on the burgundy wall beside me was a portrait of a breathtaking woman from the 1800’s judging by the clothes she wore. This had to be Lady Morwenna.
“I’m not surprised she caught your attention,” stated the strange owner.
I started, lost in the green eyes of the exquisite Morwenna. “Why is that?”
“She catches the eye of every man that walks in here.”
I didn’t know exactly how to reply to that, but it seemed that she wasn’t expecting one as she kept talking. “That’s what she was famous for around these parts. Men were driven mad by her beauty. One man in particular would not rest until she belonged to him.”
“Love will do that I guess,” I said, unable to take my eyes from her hypnotic gaze.
She snorted. “This wasn’t love. It was obsession and a need to possess.”
I mouthed an O.
“And that’s how tragedy struck.” She said with gusto.
Of course, I wanted to know more. I was a curious person by nature after all. “What happened?”
“There was a man from the north, and he wouldn’t accept that Morwenna was not his and never would be. She was in love with another; and it wasn’t just any love but a great love. She was meant to marry him a month before the death occurred.”
“Who died?” I jumped in. “Morwenna?”
“No, he didn’t kill her. The man from north thought that if he got rid of the competition, then Morwenna would be all his. But he underestimated Morwenna’s love for her fiancée, Gareth. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was alive or dead, she would never have anyone else.
“So, the man from the north lured Gareth out to the cliffs outside this manor; that was the really cruel part; you see this was Morwenna’s house, and he knew that the first person to see his bruised a battered body would be Morwenna.”
“How did he kill Gareth?”
“There was a fight, and the man from the north pushed Gareth from the cliff, down to the jagged rocks below. But the plan hadn’t gone exactly as he wanted it to. Morwenna was never supposed to come out and witness him pushing her beloved one to his death. But she did. And in her grief, she wailed, I’ll be with you again my love and threw herself off the cliff.
The man from the north ran off into the night. There was talk that the villagers caught him trying to flee and dealt with him in their own way, but that was never anything more than a rumour. But dead or not, the man was never seen or heard from again.”
I was so pulled into the story, my heart caught in my throat, that I couldn’t form a response.
Barely a minute later, the key to the cottage was being placed in my hand. “I suggest the local pub for dinner. If there is anything else, you know where to find me.”
I nodded vaguely and walked out the front door, turned left and walked half way down the hill to where the cottage sat. I let myself in and dropped my bags in the hallway and looked at my watch; it was time for dinner.
Midnight
Apart from a very unsettling feeling that had permeated the cottage, there was no activity to report. After the story that I heard, I was quietly optimistic; this had all the makings of a haunting—violent deaths, unfinished business and tragedy.
Feeling exhausted, I was about to give up for the night when I heard a woman crying. I whipped around. Seeing nothing, I could only grab my digital recorder, hit record and follow the sound to its source.
“Hello?” I said in a reassuring tone. “Is that you, Morwenna?”
The crying was getting louder. I had to be going on the right direction. “Morwenna?”
The crying ceased, and I cursed softly. “I’m not here to harm you, my lady.”
The whisper of voice came from behind me. “Gareth? Where are you?”
The recorder slipped from my hands as a I jumped. “Shit,” I swore grabbing the recorder and giving it a quick inspection. It seemed fine. With a quick thank you to my lucky stars, I kept investigating. “Morwenna, are you still with me?”
“Gareth,” the voice came from behind me again, but this time I was ready for it. “Have you come back for me?”
My brow furrowed. Did she think I was Gareth or was this just residual energy? I decided to ask a direct question and see if I got an intelligent response. “Are you waiting for Gareth?”
Holding myself perfectly still and silent, I waited. “Yes.”
I wanted to scream with the rush. She was here, and she was an intelligent entity, not just residual energy playing repeatedly. “Are you alone?”
“No.”
As she spoke, the energy took on a darker more sinister feel. It was such a menacing presence that I was almost choking on the atmosphere. “Who is with you?”
“The bad man.”
“The guy from the north?”
“Yes.” It was barely a whimper.
“GET OUT!” The booming growl filled the room. I took an involuntary step back.
“No,” I told him defiantly. “I’m here for Morwenna.”
Another growl, lower and immensely more threatening.
“Morwenna, come to my voice.”
“She can’t,” the evil entity bellowed at me. “I couldn’t control her in life, but I control her in death.”
“Woah,” I breathed. I was tempted to pinch myself to make sure that I was awake, and this wasn’t a dream. I couldn’t believe the material that I was getting. That and I was beyond terrified, but I wasn’t going to let that stand in my way. I could finally prove the existence of spirits; both good and bad.
“Get out of here, Gareth.” Morwenna’s voice carried like an echo. She sounded so far away.
Holy crap! Gareth was here too? “Where is Gareth?” I demanded.
The entity laughed. “You don’t remember?”
“What?”
“You are Gareth, you fool!” The gravelly voice, was super eerie, and yet I can only imagine the vision was so much worse than the voice.
“Nope, I’m Jared.”
“Run, Gareth!” Morwenna cried again.
Before I could react, the unseen presence had me by the throat and was dragging me outside towards the cliffs. I fought and struggled with everything I had, but it was useless.
I was going to die.
“Once again, I get the pleasure of killing you, Gareth.” It chuckled. “Try not to reincarnate again, or if you do stay the hell away from Morwenna. She belongs to me.”
“Noooooo!” I screamed.
Before another second passed, the entity let go, and I plunged down into the darkness below.
Jared Holmes, paranormal investigator, has tragically lost his life while on an investigation into the ghost of Lady Morwenna. His body was found at the bottom of the cliff outside the location he was investigating. In a strange twist, local legend has it that this is the same spot that Lady Morwenna’s fiancé was thrown to his death by a spurned suitor from the north. Perhaps the ghost of the spurned man still roams the cliffs, looking to banish any competition for his lady ghost. In another strange twist, we found a picture of Lady Morwenna’s fiancé, Gareth and the resemblance between Gareth and Jared is remarkable. If we didn’t know better, we would say that they were the same person. Was Jared murdered by the ghost because of his resemblance to Gareth? I guess we will never know. In happier news, there have been recent sightings of Lady Morwenna and an as yet unidentified spook walking together along the cliff. I will let you decide what you think of that one for yourselves, dear readers.
