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I am going to tell you an alarming story. I am positive that it is true. It happened 20 years ago in 1887. I have never told anyone this before. I was out walking in the dark dense forest when I became lost and white, soft snow started to fall from the grey clouds.
I knew I could not last the bitter murky night out in the open and made my way towards a bright, glowing light. It was a solid, brick house. I went into the house and a lovely man gave me some chocolate mud cake, some fresh spring water and some shelter for the night.
The owner of the house Jack, was very exotic. He told me a story about something that had happened that very freezing night three years earlier.
He told me that mail coach had been travelling in a mysterious snow storm, the panicking, saturated horses had slipped and the mail coach had toppled over a rocky, deadly cliff. The two black, chunky Clydesdales, the four men and the two drivers had sadly died.
The weather seemed to slowly, calm down so I decided to set off again. The owner of the house Jack told me quietly I would meet tonight’s mail coach if I set off immediately and tiptoed past the deadly cliff onto the crossroads. I would take me about a long hour but the black mail coach would halt there and I would be able to get a ride.
Anyway I set off again and I began to feel terrified and felt very strange. I had lost track of time and it became so dark that I couldn’t see. I was very surprised when I heard the mail coach clattering up behind me. It silently stopped and the two tall skinny drivers nodded when I politely asked if they would give me a lift.
I climbed inside the old fashioned mail coach and although it was even duskier than outside I could only just see that there were three men inside the coach. I tried to have a conversation with the three men, but none of the quiet, tired men would talk. Then I realised something was very wrong with the big, black coach and all the men. I tried to get the drivers to stop the cart but they didn’t so I tried to get out by myself but I couldn’t. I then heard a very high pitch screaming. It felt like we were flying through the air and I suddenly passed out. When I woke up two days later I found myself in my soft, warm bed. I had been found by two men in a snowdrift exactly where the coach had tragically crashed three years ago. But nothing else was found there.
Article posted July 20, 2010 at 06:53 PM •
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