This true account was kindly submitted by a person who's identity shall remain private.

It was about 12 years ago, I was working as a dj at the time working in several pubs in town (Birmingham). I had a lot of time on my hands, so I went to work as a labourer with a friend of mine who was a builder.
He got a contract to do a refurb on an old jewelery finishers in Henley-in -Arden. The building had had many uses over the years but started life as a mill in the 1800's (?). On the ground floor, you could see the scoremarks on the wall where the massive mill wheel had turned for years.
It was a simple enough job, we had to gut the building first of all, removing all the door frames, stud partitioning etc. So we set to work..... This was in mid November so we had dark mornings, dark evenings etc. After gutting the top floor in a week or so, we had to order some supplies and tools etc, to continue. One afternoon, whilst waiting for the builders merchant to deliver and with a bit of time on our hands we started to further investigate the building and came to realise that the inside and outside of the building didn't match up. From the outside, you could see the shape of the building but once inside, there was a sizeable area to which there was no possible access, as if a large room had been sealed up. Very strange in a commercial building, obviously, the more space available, the more value to the company.
We skirted around the internal perimiter wall and went to the room above the mystery room but could find no access. We decided to pull up the floor boards in the room above but only met rubble. We then took a "Kango" hammer ( a mini version of a road drill ) to the wall down stairs to see if we could get in. Still no joy, after breaking a hole about 2' sq, we again just met old rubble.
We decided to leave it at that, if the owners wanted to waste floor space, that was their business, we thought we'd mention it to them and hopefully get another few months work clearing it out if they wanted.
Work carried on gutting and to get the job moving a bit quicker, we brought in another labourer, a friend of mine. Who would work on days when I was otherwise tied up.
A few days later, the builder went out to cost another job, leaving me in the building on my own, a dark, cold, miserable November afternoon. My aim was to prise out the remaining door frames on the ground floor. The last frame was next to the hole we had punched in the internal wall, while working next to the hole, with nothing much on my mind except getting finished before the builder returned, I suddenly had the most inexplicable terror come over me. The hairs were standing up on the back of my neck and the only thing I could think to do was to get away from the hole. I can't explain the dread I suddenly felt. It was as if the most malicious pair of eyes were boring into me. I had to put my tools down, job unfinished and get away from the hole.
I went upstairs and had a cigarette and a cuppa from my trusty flask and tried to chill. I knew that under no circumstances could I go back to the doorway next to the hole whilst alone in the building.
The builder duely returned about half an hour later and I couldn't help but tell him what had happened.
He then told me that for the last couple of days, he'd had complaints from the owner about us leaving the lights on, on the ground floor. He had said, he knew full well the lights had been turned off each time we left. Also, the preceeding weekend, he had come in to find all the radiator caps he'd fitted had been loosened and the downstairs was flooded. He hadn't said anything to me, just thinking it was a coincidence.
That evening, I saw the other labourer and told him what had happened, he went white as a sheet and told me he'd had the same feeling whilst working near the hole and he too had to get away from it.
Not long afterwards, the owner of the building went bust and paid us what he owed for our work done. We shut down the site and I'm pleased to say, never went back.

The building is still there and must have been put to other use. I've no idea who owns it now but I'm still intrigued as to what is was in that sealed up room. I've no wish to ever go back there but I've always felt some further investigating would prove interesting. Although none of us actually saw anything, we were all convinced that something unpleasant lurked in that building!!.


The following story was kindly sent to us from John.

When I was about thirteen myself and two friends went to Pat Collins fun fair, which was next to Aston parish church. On leaving the fair we all decided to take a short cut through the park, as we all lived around Potter's Hill it would be quicker to get home as we were rather late than our parents allowed us out til that time. The park used to be secured by a perimiter fence around 5 foot high. Needless to say my one friend climbed over and my other friend had to give me a footie over the fence, as I was a rather large child still clutching my toffee apple. We made our way up a slight embankment, when we reached the top what came towards us I can only describe as a shape shifting cloud. I t came straight at us, needless to say we ran back to the fence and amazingly I was the first one over unaided. I remember getting home telling my mother, getting a clip around the ear for being late, also another one for making up this story, but we all know what we had seen that night and we cannot have all seen the same thing, unless it was real!


The following stories, have kindly been sent to us by Jenny.

Paranormal happenings are a regular feature in my life. I went to the RAF Air Museum at Cosford a couple of years ago. Whilst passing in front of the large black bomber I suddenly had difficulty in breathing and felt dizzy and faint. Once I left the hanger I was fine. When I got home I found this link. Which stated that the bomber I was standing in front of when I began to feel unwell was actually haunted!!!

Around 1973 I was playing in the Adventure playground in the village of Albrighton. I was with my best friend. We were sitting on top of a large concrete pipe, chatting. It was late afternoon. Suddenly my eyes were drawn to the churchyard next to the playground. I saw a slow moving swirling green tinted mist that hovered over a head stone. The head stone was in the shape of an open book. After a few minutes the mist moved away and headed down the slope towards some overgrowth! and disappeared from my sight. My friend and I stopped talking and ran away as fast as we could, all without speaking to each other. When we got outside The Red House, we paused to get our breath and both asked what the other had seen. We had both seen the same thing!!

Around 1980 I was with a group of friends late one summer evening. It was around midnight and we were in the churchyard of St Martin's Church in Hereford. We were sitting around chatting when my eye was drawn to a moving object. This object was about waist height, white and shaped like a rounded head stone! No features. It smoothly glided sideways in a crab like movement and vanished into an extremely large hedge. No-one else had seen it. I went to look in daylight and in the exact same spot the "thing" had disappeared is a small grave, hidden under the hedge. The hedge was closely trimmed and there was no space in the dense foliage for someone to have gone into or through the hedge.

Around 1986 I was living in a two roomed, downstairs, council flat in Hereford. One night I woke up to see a slim man, dressed in a black polo neck top and trousers, aged about 40-50, with dark hair in a side parting, walking through my bedroom. He came through the wall from my living room, which was the same wall for my bedroom. He crossed my bedroom and went out the wall behind me into my garden. He did not look at me and seemed oblivious of me. I lived in that flat for six years and never saw him again.

We have a ghost in our home where we live now. Many little things have happened over the seven years we have lived here. We have smelled perfume, heard a child's running footsteps, the kettle came on by itself once, light bulbs are always popping, we get lots of orbs on photos taken in our house. Last week I heard a man's voice saying "it's the boys". I was alone in the house. Last year, my small son hung his hat up at school on his peg. It vanished from the peg. All the children were asked if anyone had moved the hat! No-one said they had. The classroom teachers hunted every where for this hat. In the end we accepted it had been lost. A few months later I took down the carrier bag where I keep my son's hats. I hunted through various gloves, hats and scarves and found, to my total amazement, the missing hat! My son could not have brought this home without my knowledge and I certainly did not bring it home and no-one had dropped it off at our house. I can only suppose that our friendly ghost had brought it home safely for us!

When I was having my son I had a long difficult labour. I felt sure that my nan was with me. I also heard beautiful singing and commented on it to my husband, thinking it must be a radio. He could not hear the singing. It sounded to me like I imagine a choir of angels would sound like with soaring, harmonising voices. It was wonderful.