1.She lived deep in the forest in a tiny cottage and sold herbal remedies for a living. Folks living in the town nearby called her Bloody Mary, and said she was a witch. None dared cross the old crone for fear that their cows would go dry, their food-stores rot away before winter, their children take sick of fever, or any number of terrible things that an angry witch could do to her neighbors.
Then the little girls in the village began to disappear, one by one. No one could find out where they had gone. Grief-stricken families searched the woods, the local buildings, and all the houses and barns, but there was no sign of the missing girls. A few brave souls even went to Bloody Mary's home in the woods to see if the witch had taken the girls, but she denied any knowledge of the disappearances. Still, it was noted that her haggard appearance had changed. She looked younger, more attractive. The neighbors were suspicious, but they could find no proof that the witch had taken their young ones.
Then came the night when the daughter of the miller rose from her bed and walked outside, following an enchanted sound no one else could hear. The miller's wife had a toothache and was sitting up in the kitchen treating the tooth with an herbal remedy when her daughter left the house. She screamed for her husband and followed the girl out of the door. The miller came running in his nightshirt. Together, they tried to restrain the girl, but she kept breaking away from them and heading out of town.
The desperate cries of the miller and his wife woke the neighbors. They came to assist the frantic couple. Suddenly, a sharp-eyed farmer gave a shout and pointed towards a strange light at the edge of the woods. A few townsmen followed him out into the field and saw Bloody Mary standing beside a large oak tree, holding a magic wand that was pointed towards the miller's house. She was glowing with an unearthly light as she set her evil spell upon the miller's daughter.
The townsmen grabbed their guns and their pitchforks and ran toward the witch. When she heard the commotion, Bloody Mary broke off her spell and fled back into the woods. The far-sighted farmer had loaded his gun with silver bullets in case the witch ever came after his daughter. Now he took aim and shot at her. The bullet hit Bloody Mary in the hip and she fell to the ground. The angry townsmen leapt upon her and carried her back into the field, where they built a huge bonfire and burned her at the stake.
As she burned, Bloody Mary screamed a curse at the villagers. If anyone mentioned her name aloud before a mirror, she would send her spirit to revenge herself upon them for her terrible death. When she was dead, the villagers went to the house in the wood and found the unmarked graves of the little girls the evil witch had murdered. She had used their blood to make her young again.
From that day to this, anyone foolish enough to chant Bloody Mary's name three times before a darkened mirror will summon the vengeful spirit of the witch. It is said that she will tear their bodies to pieces and rip their souls from their mutilated bodies. The souls of these unfortunate ones will burn in torment as Bloody Mary once was burned, and they will be trapped forever in the mirror.
The Bloodstain
2.The Phelps place was an old, abandoned property with a monstrous, decrepit Victorian house that was supposed to be haunted. It should have been a good resting place for the local deer hunters, but they would not go near it. A few that tried came away before midnight with tales of ghostly thumping noises, gasps, moans, and a terrible wet bloodstain that appeared on the floor of the front porch and could not be wiped away.
Phelps was an Englishman who had purchased land some 20 miles off the Mendocino coast in the 1880s. He had built a huge, fancy Victorian house all covered with gingerbread trimmings and surrounded by lovely gardens. When everything was arranged to his liking, he sent out party invitations to everyone within messenger range. It was the biggest social event of the year, with music and dancing and huge amounts of food. Sawhorse tables were set up with refreshments, and drinks were set out on the front porch. People came from miles around. The only one missing was old man McInturf's son-in-law. They had had a terrible fight that afternoon, and the boy had stalked off in a rage, threatening to get even with the old man.
Around midnight, the musicians took a recess and old man McInturf went out on the front porch with some friends. Suddenly there came the thunder of hooves rushing up the lane. A cloaked figure rode towards the lantern-lit porch. McInturf put down his drink. "That will be my son-in-law," he told his friends as he went down the steps. The cloaked figure stopped his horse just outside the pool of lantern-light. There was a sharp movement and two loud shots from a gun. Old man McInturf staggered backwards, shot in the throat and the chest. The cloaked man wheeled his horse and fled down the lane as friends ran to the assistance of the old man.
They laid McInturf down on the porch. He was bleeding heavily and they were afraid to move him much. There was some talk of fetching the doctor, but everyone knew it was too late. So much blood was pouring from the old man's wounds that it formed a pool underneath his head. McInturf coughed, once, twice; a hideous, gurgling, strangling sound that wrenched at the hearts of all who heard it. Then he died.
McInturf's body was laid out on the sofa, and the once-merry guests left in stricken silence. The servants came and wiped the red-brown bloodstain off the floorboards. The next day, a wagon was brought to the front of the house and McInturf's body was carried out onto the porch. As the men stepped across the place where McInturf had died, blood began to pool around their boots, forming a wet stain in exactly the pattern that had been wiped up by the servants the night before. The men gasped in fear. One of them staggered and almost dropped the body. They hurriedly laid McInturf in the back of the wagon, and a pale Phelps ordered the servants to clean up the fresh bloodstain.
From that day forward, the Phelps could not keep that part of the porch clean. Every few weeks, the damp bloodstain would reappear. They tried repainting the porch a few times, but the bloodstain would always leak through. In the county jail, McInturf's son-in-law died of a blood clot in the brain. A few months later, one of the Phelps servants went mad after seeing a "terrible sight" that made his head feel like it was going to exploded. Folks started saying the house was being haunted by the ghost of McInturf, seeking revenge. The property was resold several times but each resident was driven out by the terrible, gasping ghost of McInturf reliving his last moments and by the bloodstain that could not be removed from the porch. The house was eventually abandoned.
Black Aggie
3.When Felix Agnus put up the life-sized shrouded bronze statue of a grieving angel, seated on a pedestal, in the Agnus family plot in the Druid Ridge Cemetery, he had no idea what he had started. The statue was a rather eerie figure by day, frozen in a moment of grief and terrible pain. At night, the figure was almost unbelievably creepy; the shroud over its head obscuring the face until you were up close to it. There was a living air about the grieving angel, as if its arms could really reach out and grab you if you weren't careful.
It didn't take long for rumors to sweep through the town and surrounding countryside. They said that the statue - nicknamed Black Aggie - was haunted by the spirit of a mistreated wife who lay beneath her feet. The statue's eyes would glow red at the stroke of midnight, and any living person who returned the statues gaze would instantly be struck blind. Any pregnant woman who passed through her shadow would miscarry. If you sat on her lap at night, the statue would come to life and crush you to death in her dark embrace. If you spoke Black Aggie's name three times at midnight in front of a dark mirror, the evil angel would appear and pull you down to hell. They also said that spirits of the dead would rise from their graves on dark nights to gather around the statue at night.
People began visiting the cemetery just to see the statue, and it was then that the local fraternity decided to make the statue of Grief part of their initiation rites. "Black Aggie" sitting, where candidates for membership had to spend the night crouched beneath the statue with their backs to the grave of General Agnus, became popular.
One dark night, two fraternity members accompanied new hopeful to the cemetery and watched while he took his place underneath the creepy statue. The clouds had obscured the moon that night, and the whole area surrounding the dark statue was filled with a sense of anger and malice. It felt as if a storm were brewing in that part of the cemetery, and to their chagrin, the two fraternity members noticed that h.appy- haha. shadows seemed to be clustering around the body of the frightened fraternity candidate crouching in front of the statue.
What had been a funny initiation rite suddenly took on an air of danger. One of the fraternity brothers stepped forward in alarm to call out to the initiate. As he did, the statue above the boy stirred ominously. The two fraternity brothers froze in shock as the shrouded head turned toward the new candidate. They saw the gleam of glowing red eyes beneath the concealing hood as the statue's arms reached out toward the cowering boy.
With shouts of alarm, the fraternity brothers leapt forward to rescue the new initiate. But it was too late. The initiate gave one horrified yell, and then his body disappeared into the embrace of the dark angel. The fraternity brothers skidded to a halt as the statue thoughtfully rested its glowing eyes upon them. With gasps of terror, the boys fled from the cemetery before the statue could grab them too.
Hearing the screams, a night watchman hurried to the Agnus plot. To his chagrin, he discovered the body of a young man lying at the foot of the statue. The young man had apparently died of fright.
The disruption caused by the statue grew so acute that the Agnus family finally donated it to the Smithsonian museum in Washington D.C.. The grieving angel sat for many years in storage there, never again to plague the citizens visiting the Druid Hill Park Cemetery.
The Express Train to Hell
4.For days, a ragged old man had hung around the Newark Central Station. The stationmaster kept running him off, but night after night he would return. He kept accosting people, shouting: "It's coming for me! It's coming!" Whenever anyone asked him what was coming for him, he would just clutch his head and cry: "I done wrong! I killed a man that cheated me at cards, and now I'm going to pay!"
The stationmaster finally took the man aside and threatened to call the police if he did not cease and desist. The old man rolled his eyes and replied: "The Express Train for Hell is coming for my soul! You've got to help me." He broke away from the stationmaster and ran for the door. The time was two minutes to midnight. At that moment, new sound introduced itself. A long whistle blew, once, twice. The stationmaster was startled. The next train wasn't due until 12:05.
The old tramp started screaming when he heard the whistle. The stationmaster could hear the roar and chug of a steam train, approaching fast. Approaching too fast to stop at the station. The old man was standing at the edge of the platform, staring down the tracks in frozen terror. The stationmaster ran forward and grabbed hold of the old tramp to pull him out of harm's way.
The train whistle sounded again. A warm rush of air blew against everyone near the platform and the stationmaster heard the roar of an invisible train passing directly in front of him. He heard the hiss of the steam and the screech of flanges against iron rails; he felt the wind whipping our hair and faces, but he saw nothing.
Beneath his grip, the old tramp gave a terrible wail. Then he vanished, leaving the stationmaster empty-handed. The roar of the invisible train faded into the distance and then ceased. The stationmaster glanced at the station clock. It was midnight.
The stationmaster stared blankly at the tracks. Around him, the waiting passengers and other bystanders were gasping and murmuring in fright. "Good lord, he was right," the stationmaster murmured to himself. "It did come for him." He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweating, bald head with it.
A trembling man standing nearby approached the stationmaster: "Sir, what was that?" he asked. "Son, I believe that was the Express Train to Hell," said the stationmaster. He shook his head and that seemed to bring him to his senses. "Why don't you go back into the station and pour yourself a drink?" he suggested to the trembling man.
He pushed the man through the station door and then turned to address the dazed and frightened passengers. "Nothing to worry about folks," he said. "It was just an express train passing through. The next train will be here in five minutes." The stationmaster's reassuring manner calmed everyone. People turned away from the empty tracks and settled back into their seats, whispering to each other about the strange events that had just taken place.
Then the stationmaster went into his office, closed the door, and poured himself a stiff drink to calm his nerves. "Well, that's one for the books," he muttered aloud. "I wonder if I should put it on the schedule; 12 am-Express Train to Hell."
Shaking his head, he fortified himself with one more brandy and then went back to work.
The White House Ghosts
5. It is said that Lincoln's ghost haunts the White House. He appears in the room where the Lincoln bed is kept. Harry Truman once responded to a 3 o'clock knock on his door and found no one there. He attributed the knock to Lincoln.
Lincoln is said to return to the White House when the security of the country is at risk. He strides up and down the second floor hallway, raps at doors, and stands by certain windows with his hands clasped behind his back. One staff member claimed to have seen Lincoln sitting on his bed pulling on his boots.
A bodyguard to President Harrison was kept awake many nights trying to protect the president from mysterious footsteps he heard in the hall. He grew so tired and worried; he finally attended a séance to beg President Lincoln to stop so he could get enough sleep to properly protect the president!
Abigail Adam's ghost was seen drifting through the closed doors of the East Room to hang the laundry during the Taft administration.
A gardener claims to have spoken to the ghost of Dolly Madison, who reproved him for trying to remove the rose bushes she had planted over a hundred years ago.
In the 1930's Andrew Jackson's ghost could be heard laughing in the Rose room.
In 1952, extensive repairs were done to the second floor of the White House. Since then, the ghosts have not walked so actively.
Articles
What Are Ghosts?
We have all been raised with ghosts in our lives. Cartoons, stories & Legends, Halloween, and deceased relatives that we wonder about. We all die so it's part of our heritage, no matter what culture that is. We know as far back as man has been writing symbols on walls that we've contemplated spirits from another realm.
Ghosts are more than deceased people. If they were just that, there would be nothing to talk about. Crossing over to the next dimension doesn't make you a ghost. Ịt's when you come back and let your presence be known among the living. They move an object, provide a fleeting glance, come to us in our dreams, and whisper to us though we may not be able to see them. They are souls that have something to show, do or say to us.
What are ghosts?Why do they come back? What is so compelling to them that they are not in final rest where they are in the afterlife? I think there are many reasons. For some, it's unfinished business. For others, it's pure love. They simply don't want to let go. Something strong exists within them to want to come back to this realm to hold dear, expose or endure something strong to them. I think it applies to the living as well. Why do we cling to thoughts of those that have passed, even to those that are still living? I guarantee you it's for many of the same reasons they do. Just because we leave this dimension doesn't mean we stop being human in our thoughts and desires. What we are here is what we take with us. The same love, fear, and desires don't cease when we do.
I think ghosts are just those souls strong enough to break through the dimensions to express their will or cling to some past. There are several ways they can do this. One of the most common are those that have just recently crossed over. Their energy is still strong enough that it's possible for them to be seen and even communicated with just a few hours or days after their departure. One might call this their etheric presence. It fades shortly after the physical perishes but it too diminishes quickly, like an aura that no longer has a host.
Equal to the pull of love is anguish. More than not, a ghost is a person whose life ended abruptly and sometimes violently. This can be known as a haunting because they are haunted by a life now gone. The haunting is from their thoughts and their presence become testimony to that.
If you think about it, ghosts are just you and I. What will become of us when we move on? Will we come back? Will we want to? I guess we'll find out.
What Is the Difference Between Ghostsand Angels / Demons?
If we adhere to theory -- ghosts are deceased humans, while demons and angels are not of earthly origin. Both are known to have stronger powers than your average ghost. You'll find a demon more apt to move objects and possess the human body, just as you'll find an angel more awe inspiring and willing to help the suffering human condition than a ghost.
ghosts and angels demons Why would a demon be stronger than a ghost, or deceased human? Depending on our beliefs, we can understand why angels, blessed with powers from higher dimensions are maybe stronger than deceased humans, but why a demon? In fact, why either entity since we too are of the same cosmic fabric? If I had an answer it would be "experience" or that they have been in that realm for so much longer. When we cross over, that is relatively new territory for many souls. For demons and angels, this is their long endured habitat and home. The demon is cunning and the angel enlightened. Really, you can think of it as a good/bad adult (demon/angel) dealing with an inexperienced child (ghost). They hold the experience we lack and are full of tricks (demons), or miracles (angels) of which either inspire or frighten us. Ị also think miracles and tricks are inherent in us too, but they are more readily accessible and producible by these beings because this is what they have been doing for many life-times. I think our abilities and faults are a microcosm of theirs.
With this said, it doesn't mean that ghosts cannot be the very thing angels and demons are. An entity, once human, can descend or ascend into either characteristic. A child, once loved on earth, can come back and lift the spirits (literally) of those most dear to it and be called an angel. A person who has crossed over from irreparably painful circumstances can spiral into negativity and do demonic things.
We can surmise that to be demonic or angelic, versus ghostly, is an advanced stage of positive or negative, while a ghost is more inexperienced and neutral. In time, we too will be angelic or demonic, depending on the path our soul takes.
The Tower of London, dating back over 900 years, is known as one of the most haunted places in Britain. In 1078, the first stone section of the tower was built and commissioned by William the Conqueror. It slowly morphed over time with additional structures and towers being added. Like Alcatraz, much human suffering went on within the cold stone walls including executions, imprisonment and torture. It wasn't just reserved for the lowly criminal but for the famous and powerful as well. Social stature mattered not for the Tower of London!
One recorded haunting from the 19th century was from a Crown Jewel keeper E. L. Swifte. He and his family were having dinner in the Martin Tower when his alarmed wife spotted a moving object. Both he and his wife witnessed what looked to be a cylindrical object, resembling that of a lab tube, filled with blue bubbling fluid. Tube or not, the wife claimed it tried to grab her (not sure how a tube with no hands would do that but it gave the wife that impression). The tube seemed to be an apparition as Swifte tried to throw a chair at it but it went straight through it. Ịt then vanished into thin air.
The Tower of London Of the famous that haunt the Tower, there are reports that the headless ghost of Anne Boleyn meanders the eerie corridors of the White Tower. She was one of two wives that were ordered for execution by husband, Henry VIII; the other being Catherine Howard. Anne is also spotted in the Chapel of Saint Peter ad Vincula where she watches over her own grave under the altar. Catherine on the other hand can be heard screaming behind the door of the room she was kept in before her execution.
Other famous ghosts are Thomas A. Becket who struck down the Traitor's Gate with a crucifix, witnessed by a priest. People have also seen 12-year-old King Edward V and his 9-year-old brother Richard Duke of York in the Bloody Tower still wearing the white gowns they were imprisoned in.
Foggy figures, soldiers, and 16-year-old Lady Jane Grey haunt the battlements of the Tower of London. Whole squads of soldiers have been seen marching the grounds.
This place has no shortage of ghosts as you can see! These famous rumors intrigued the BBC and they teamed up with paranormal investigators to try and capture some of these ghostly images using special cameras that convert night-time into day and infra-red light, aka "black cameras". They also used temperature gauges, and other devices to prove or disprove some of these haunting claims. Though they could disprove much of what seemed odd about the Tower, there were still 10% of their experiences that baffled them. They also came away with "wonderful" images including unusual orbs of light. They claimed they were much less skeptical after their investigation.
The final interesting tidbit about the Tower of London is that there are always ravens present at the Tower. It is legend that if the ravens were ever to leave the tower, England would perish!
The Winchester Mystery House
The Winchester Mystery House is one of the most famous haunted houses in America with enough of a following to-date for daily public tours. The house, now a historical landmark, is located in San Jose California and building started in 1883 and didn't end until Sarah's Winchester's death, 38 years later in 1922. So why so long and to the tune of 5.5 million dollars? Because ghosts told her to do so!
Winchester House Sarah was the heiress to the Winchester Rifle fortune. She originally lived in New Haven and prior to moving to California lost both her only child Annie and then her husband John. Deeply grieving, she turned to a medium for solace and information. The medium told her that her husband was present and that there was a curse on the family which took his life and their daughter's because of the many people who died from the Winchester gun. He then told her that the only way to prevent her own death was to move west and build a house for the spirits. But there was a catch to this plan. Ịf she stopped working on the house, the curse would take her life. So Sarah did exactly that. She left her home in New Haven and headed to California (under ghost guidance) where she bought a large parcel of land and started construction on her Victorian home. While she lived in the ever growing behemoth, she continued her séances to her husband and other spirits. She had a bell tower added and would ring it to summon the spirits at night, and ring it again to dismiss them. It was said that she built a séance room in the middle of the house and would enter it alone to conduct her communications.
The mental stability of Sarah was in question because of the very odd design of the house. Doors were joined to windows, numerous staircases with 13 steps each that often led no where but the ceiling, doors opened to brick walls, double-layered skylights, double-back hallways, doors that dropped off to the landscaping below, upside-down stair posts and so on. Sarah claimed that these oddities were to confuse the bad spirits that had used the Winchester gun to kill. No one ever figured out her fascination with 13; the steps totaling 13, the 13th bathroom having 13 windows, 13 drain holes in the kitchen sink, most windows had 13 panes of glass, there were 13 cupolas in the greenhouse, the walls had 13 panes and the list goes on.
Some of the current haunting evidence include pages turning on their own, organs playing by themselves, banging doors, voices, dancing spots of light, cold spots and actual sightings of "fog like" people.
Haunted Hotel Room 310
This is the true story of a haunted hotel room in Oregon. The hotel owners have tried to hush up the story for fear that noone will visit their establishment, but the name of it is The Oregon Caves Chateau.
A woman was driving back to her home in California from Washington to California. It was late evening and snowhad begun to fall before she finally reached the little Oregon town where she planed tospend the night. Tired and ready for a hot meal and a goodnight’s sleep, she stopped at the first place she came upon. It was an old hotel on the main street. The lobby had a musty odor. The seedy clerk behind the desk signed herin. Her room was on the third floor -Room 310.
An elderly bellhop helped herwith her luggage. As soon as the door was opened, a blast of hot air struck the woman full in the face. With the hot air came something else, something she could not define but that filled her with dread. It was heavy and depressing, she explained, “with the strong scent of theevil.“ She felt as if she was about to faint. All she said was, “It’s awfully hot.”
Haunted Hotel Room 310
This is a genuine photo of the haunted hotel room in question. Room 310.
The bellhop tinkered with the radiator knobs. Then he opened the window and left. The room began to cool off, but the feeling of despair and dread grew stronger. It centered on the open square of black window space. The terror seemed to speak in her mind. She thought she could sense a voice whispering to her. Compelling her to do something terrible. “Go to the window,” it said. “Throw yourself out!”
She couldn’t seem to resist the urge to jump out the window to what she knew would be certain death. She clawed at the bedsheets, trying to restrain herself from walking towards the open window. Terrified, the woman eventually summoned the strength and crawled out of the room. She rushed down to the lobby and shouted to the staff that she couldn’t stay another minute.
She explained, “I was sure that if I stayed the night, I’d be dead by morning.” She was prepared to sacrifice the money she’d already paid just to leave, but when she went, the clerk never asked what was wrong or if she wished to try another room. He returned the full cash amount to her.
She checked into another hotel and had planned to be on her way early the next morning. Instead she decided to stay over a day and look into the history of the old hotel to see if she could discover the reason for her terrifying experience there. She visited the local library to makea few inquiries. An elderly librarian satbehind the desk. “I’m just wondering,” the woman said tentatively. “Did anything shocking ever happen in the old hotel?” The librarian looked at her strangely. “How did you come upon that bit of history?”she asked. “It took the hotel a long time to squash the story.” The librarian went on to tell what had happened.
One evening back in 1948 a couple checked into the hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Oscar Smith. The next morning hotel employees found the youngwoman’s body lying on the sidewalk outside the hotel beneath Room 310. The man who had registered as her husband had disappeared. “At first it was ruled suicide,” the librarian concluded. “But thenthey pried open her fist and found itclutched a handful of dark curly hair, not her own. So they made a search for the murderer. But he was never found . . . “By the way,” the librarian suddenly added,”isn’t that a coincidence! It all happened on November 5th, forty years ago yesterday. “
Poveglia is a haunted island near Venice, Italy. It’s darkened shores are strewn with polished human bones and it is supposed to be so scary that no tourists are ever allowed to set foot on it.
Haunted Island
When the plague hit Italy in 1576, thousands of dead bodies were piling up in Venice and the stench was terrible. Something drastic had to be done.
The dead were hauled to the island and dumped in large pits or burned on huge bonfires. But as the plague became worse, people began to panic, and anybody who had symptoms of the Black Death were dragged screaming from their homes.
These living victims, including children and babies, were taken to the island of Poveglia and thrown into the pits of rotting corpses, where they were left to die in agony. As many as 160,000 tormented bodies were dumped there over the years.
The whole island is still covered in a layer of ash, the remains of all the burned bodies. Before long, local people began seeing strange things and hearing strange sounds coming from the haunted island.
Despite the ghostly goings-on, in 1922, a mental hospital was built on the haunted island. The patients immediately reported seeing the ghosts of rotting plague victims and of hearing whispers echoing off the walls. But nobody believed them because they were already regarded as demented and insane.
The hospital was run by a weird doctor who was interested in experimenting on his live patients, trying to discover what caused insanity. His methods were crude, to say the least. Lobotomies were performed using a basic hand drill or just a hammer and chisel. The crazed patients were taken to the hospital’s tower, where they were subjected to terrible tortures.
Haunted Island
After years of performing these horrible acts, the doctor himself began seeing the ghosts of harrowed plague victims. It is said they led him to the top of the bell tower, and forced him to throw himself off. As he lay writhing in agony on the ground, a fine mist swirled up around him, entered his body, and choked him to death. It is rumored that the mental patients then bricked up his body in the bell tower. There his ghost remains, haunting the empty tower for all eternity, and on a still night the bell can be heard tolling across the bay.
The Werewolf's Bride
There once was a beautiful girl engaged to a soldier who caught the eye of an evil woodsman who had sold his soul for the ability to turn himself into a wolf at will. He lay in wait for the girl when she was walking home one day and accosted her, begging her to elope with him. The maiden refused, spurning his love and crying out to her love to save her from his advances.
The girl's cries were heard by her eager fiancé, who had come searching for her when she was late returning to her parent's home. The soldier drove the woodsman away, threatening him with dire consequences if he ever approached the maiden again.
The furious woodsman lay low for a few days, waiting for his chance. It came on the girl's wedding day. She was dancing happily at her wedding reception with a group of her friends when the woodsman, in the form of a wolf, leapt upon her and dragged her away with him.
The enraged bridegroom gave chase, but the wolf and his bride had disappeared into the thick forest and were not seen again. For many days, the distraught soldier and his friends, armed with silver bullets, scoured the woods, searching for the maiden and her captor. Once the soldier thought he saw the wolf and shot at it. Upon reaching the location, he found a piece of a wolf's tail lying upon the ground. But of the wolf to which it belonged there was no sign.
After months of searching, his friends begged him to let the girl go and get on with living. But the soldier was half-mad with grief and refused to give up. And that very day, he found the cave where the werewolf lived. Within it lay the preserved body of his beloved wife. The girl had refused the werewolf's advances to the very end, and had died for it. After his murderous fury had died away, the werewolf had tenderly laid the body of the girl he had loved and had killed into a wooden coffin, where it would be safe from predators, and he came to visit her grave every day. Lying in wait for him, the soldier shot the werewolf several times as he entered the cavern, chasing him down until the maddened and dying werewolf leapt into the lake and disappeared from view. The soldier sat by the lake with his gun, staring into the rippling waters for hours as the catfish ate the bloody bits of the wolf that were floating on the surface of the water.
When his friends found him, the soldier's mind was gone. He babbled insanely about a werewolf that had been eaten by a catfish when it leapt into the water, and he sobered only long enough to lead the men to the body of his beloved before he collapsed forevermore into insanity. He died a few days later, and was buried beside his bride in a little glen where they had planned to build there house. Their grave is long forgotten, and the place where it stands is covered with daisies in the spring. But to this day, the people of the area have a prejudice against eating catfish, though no one remember why.
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