Raymond
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The Beast Of Croglin Grange (A True Story)Atop a hillock, overlooking endless miles of rolling Cumbrian countryside rests an unobtrusive, lonely and eerie house; known then to the locals as Croglin Old Hall. Its spacious grounds swept past a cluster of trees towards a church nestling in a hollow, not more than a stone's throw away in the nearby village of Renwick.
By day, it is nothing more than an isolated interest. But when night falls, especially, in winter when snow falls and the howling wind stirs up Croglin water; and the dark mass of Croglin fell casts an ominous shadow upon the land, then it becomes the very embodiment of the mysterious.
For decades the house - some twenty miles from Carlisle - had belonged to a local family named Fisher. But in 1873, the then owner decided to make the move to the south in order to be closer to his London based business interests. The old ancestral home would both reluctantly and sadly have to be given up.
Potential buyers we're immediately put off by the houses remote and isolated location, but finally, two brothers, Edward and Michael Cranswell and their sister Amelia stepped forward offering to take out a seven year lease: the Fishers agreed.
Quickly settling in to their new surroundings, the Cranwells were pleased with their decision, perhaps a little weary of the hustle and bustle of city life, welcomed the Granges' solitary state.
The two story, stone house, white washed in lime, was fitted with lead-light windows and offered little resistance to any felon roaming the land, so it was at Edward and Michael's insistence that every window should have its wooden shutters fastened at night. Yet one warm Summer evening Amelia found her bedroom too stifling, and let the shutters stay open; and in putting out her bedside lamp, she lay against the pillows, letting her eyes adjust to the soft moonlight shinning through. Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of something odd - two pinpoints of yellowish light - that appeared, vanished, and then reappeared - almost as if someone in the distance was carrying two tiny lanterns trough the woods.
Before long, those tiny lights were shining without interruption, after emerging from the fell and had begun moving at an alarming speed towards the house. Yet it was only when they began crossing the lawn that Amelia sat up and took notice. For what she saw seemed to be small round lights set within a black mass.
Without warning, the lights swung off to one side as if to begin circling the house. Leaping from her bed, she flung herself at the locked door; and in the darkness, fumbled for the key. And amidst the sounds she made, her hands scratching and clawing against the wooden surface; her ears picked up a different sound. A diligent sound of scratching against the window, and as she turned, now saw the source of the sound and that those lights were not lanterns, but eyes - great glaring eyes set within a shrivelled face.
For seconds that seemed like an eternity, Amelia stood frozen, speechless as if in the throes of some hideous nightmare. She tried to scream, but no sound came, only the sounds of the deliberate scratching of something trying to get at her.
Snapping out of its trance-like gaze, she flung herself against the door, knocking the key from its lock, sending it tumbling into the shadows; and as the key hit the floor it sent out ringing shockwaves that unlocked her state of mind. Her terrified screams echoed throughout the darkened house. And as her brothers ran to her room, a small diamond shaped pane of glass fell to the floor allowing a long, bony hand to enter and loosen the catch.
Her eyes fixed with horror watched the slow and deliberate movements of the creature advancing towards her, its burning, fiery eyes mere feet away; Amelia's frail body slide down the door in a last attempt at escape.
The tall, black form of the creature now loomed over her, its long skeletal fingers groped for her throat - she blacked out.
Her brothers, having splintered the lock, now fought their way into the tiny room, and as Michael clambered to the open window he caught sight of a tall figure hurtling across the lawn. So climbing over the sill, and with his eyes fixed firmly on his foe, gave chase; only to watch in amazement at the sight of this creature taking great strides, vanishing into a belt of trees.
Losing sight of his aggressor, Michael headed back to find Edward tending to Amelia's horrific wounds, and there was no doubt in both their minds as to the seriousness of the situation. And although they manage to staunch the flow of blood, her breathing was becoming severely laboured, Edward soon found himself riding at speed to the home of the nearest physician some three miles away.
On examination of her wounds the doctor paled, "My God," he whispered, "these are bites!" And on administering treatment, her eyes flickered open, squinted. Without any warning, erupted into violent hysterics, taking all three of them to restrain and calm her down before breaking into a gentle sob: realising that the nightmare was over and now in the safety of loved ones.
In time, Amelia made good recovery and although the doctor was pleased, he was very aware that she had gone through a horrific ordeal, suffering severe shock. And so suggested that a long and peaceful rest far away from Croglin Grange would do her a world of good.
Switzerland was a restful and beautiful country, offering the ideal solace that Amelia needed, and before long, soon found themselves convalescing under the range of the Swiss Alps.
It was a wise choice, for she loved to spend long hours sitting and sketching the picturesque vistas, while her brothers skied and fished for trout in the sparkling Alpine lakes. In all, life was pleasant, but now grew impatient and homesick for England, longing to return.
News of the attack soon spread throughout the county. And on their return, a farmer called to tell of a similar tale. He told of the night when his little daughter was attacked and left with deep wounds to her face and neck, scaring her for life. As more of these stories began to emerge, they added further anguish to the young family who struggled to carry on with their lives, putting the past events long behind them. Shifting their beds to a room next to Amelia's, a plan was worked out that should the beast return, it would be dealt with. On a table near her door, lay a pair of loaded pistols.
Autumn and winter both passed without incident, but on a night in March 1876, Amelia was once again woken by the sounds of deliberate scratching coming from her bedroom window; those glaring eyes again burning deep into her soul. Letting out a deafening scream, her brothers leaped from their beds, meeting in the hallway with each grabbing a pistol; and as of now acted in accordance to a plan laid down and agreed upon.
Michael burst into the room while Edward flew out the front door, running across the lawn, now saw the creature making great strides towards the nearby fell. Stopping to take aim fired the pistol hitting the beast in the leg. Stumbling, it managed to right itself, running off but at a much slower pace. Resuming the chase, Edward was this time determined to catch the monster.
Closing in on the chase, he felt this time he would triumph. Running back out of the oak fell, Edward watched through adrenalin filled eyes. His adversary limping badly, now heading for the high wall that surrounded the old churchyard. Closing the pace, it now seemed cornered. Yet with astonishing ease, the beast scaled the wall, laid one hand on top before hauling itself over. At seeing this, Edward now ran around to the churchyard gates only to witness the now stumbling silhouette disappear down and out of sight into one of the larger vaults.
The young man reasoned that to continue would only lead to frightening consequences; and not knowing the full nature of his quarry, decided to abandon the chase in favour of returning home for more help.
As dawn broke, the two brothers, along with a small group of villagers, slowly entered the graveyard. Under the glow of the flickering lanterns they carried they filed silently past row upon row of ageing gravestones and in turning off the main path, wearily moved into the oldest part of the churchyard.
Before them, stood the age-old rusted iron gates of the largest vaults. "This is the one," said Edward, "he went down there!" Pushing against the gates quickly revealed that the chain holding them fast had several links that were well loosened. As he undid the chains, the great gates groaned open, turning to the others asked, "Who will come with us?"
As the party of men now stared down at the moss-covered steps that disappeared into the yawning darkness, the simple countrymen paused, their senses filled with the dank smell of death - three of the men finally stepped forward. With the glow of lanterns flickering across their faces, five men fearfully began the descent down, only to be met at the base of these steps by a solid, iron-glad door.
Handing his lantern to one of the men, Michael put his full weight to it and at first pressure, the great wooden seal groaned open; and as they moved ever forward, deeper into the subterranean chamber, found the stench of rotting flesh almost unbearable. And breaking their self-imposed silence coughed and spluttered forcing cloths into their nostrils.
About the floor lay skeletons to which clung tattered scraps of decaying flesh and hair. All had been gruesomely mangled; for the entire chamber was littered with human remains and shattered, splintered coffins. Yet in the midst of this entire destruction there lay one undamaged coffin, its lid propped up to one side. As the men approached, their eyes we're filled with the image of a corpse - tall, shrivelled and mummified - but a complete man. His teeth were long and curved, and at the corners of its mouth there trickled fresh blood.
Like men in a dream, they stumbled back out of the vault, dropping to the damp grass, where they, on recovery, told their story.
Three hours later and in broad daylight, now joined by dozens of villagers, they returned to the churchyard, to descend once more into the tomb and carry out the ritualistic ceremony that would end the curse.
Edward slowly and cautiously advanced towards the creatures resting place, unsure of what might happen, quietly searched the stone floor for a wooded splinter. Having found a suitable shard, steeled himself for the grisly task. Ever so slowly, Edward raised the stake above his head. Then, and without warning, the beast's eyes flickered open. Edward let out a scream as he drove the splinter into the creatures heart. The creatue instantly lifted its head as it roared out in pain.
Fearing the monster may strike back at his brother, Michael thrust his flaming torch into the shrivelled face, it's high-pitched death screams echoed throughout the lurid chamber. With all his might, Edward drove the remainder of the stake through the creature's body, stopping with a dull thud as it struck the base of the coffin. Slowly, the wizened figure lost its grip on immortality, and as the men looked on; it gave one final death rattle before falling still - lifeless.
Wiping the sweat mixed with splattered blood from his face, Edward and the other men stood awe-struck at the spectacle laid before them. Then with a final finishing stroke, severed the beast's head sending it crashing to the floor, the sounds of cracking bone and flesh filling the men's ears with an absolution.
All the men now trembled in a wild exultation as they now set light to all that would burn, making sure that nothing but ash would remain of the vampire and its lair. Driven back by the advancing flames, the men retreated and upon reaching the entrance, felt the roar of heat filled with deafening sounds of crackling timber.
Then with one final groan, that great oak door was closed for the last time; and as smoke mixed with the mornings mist, a great calmness and resolution swept over those who watched, for finally they had rid themselves of the Croglin vampire and it's centuries old curse.
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