Years had past since then, leaving the chapel to decay over time, however that did not mean that the chapel was forgotten about entirely; rumours of a ghostly apparition that haunted the forest and ruins at night had began to surface in the nearby towns surrounding the massacre of over one-hundred people that one fateful night sixty years ago, leaving sceptics to wonder how true the stories were. People would travel there from all over Britain in the hopes of catching a glimpse of this apparition, but never had they come across it until someone, claiming to be a powerful sceptic, took photos of the phantom, claiming that she was in fact a shriek who screamed with enough force to render him deaf for numerous days.
This very story caused more and more curious enthusiasts to appear before the chapel, where they would gather around the empty grave of the fiancé that the ghost had apparently lost, her and his body having never been found.
It was on one shrill and feverous night that the chapel had found itself alive with eager ghost hunters, forcing Evelyn to seek refuge underground in the dark and moist cellar underneath the chapel. From the window the woman could hear the numerous fanatics talking amongst themselves, some discussed their business like reasons for being here whilst others informed them that they simply came here once a year for fun.
Around the other side another ground had been trying to break into the sealed off chapel, the metal clippers in their hands snapping open the thick iron chains which kept the doors shut.
"Has anyone ever been in the chapel?" one asked, gazing around at the decaying ruins and graffiti clad bricks which lay strewn across the unkempt ground.
"After the building started falling apart no one was allowed in here, but we got permission from the council to shoot our programme here." another replied, pushing open the door and coughing for a moment as the dust scattered through the air when the wind got into the building.
Giving his camera man the thumbs up the man began to introduce themselves, the show and then where they were before heading inside with his small crew following. A medically trained official had been selected to come with them as well, in case the building collapsed and someone got injured. Putting on their torches the group looked around at the empty building, the walls had been stripped for copper and any paint that had not been ruined by water damage was chipping away.
"Spooky." said one of their guests, his eyes lolling from left to right as they stuck close to the group. In the main hall, where masses and ceremonies would have once taken place, the windows were smashed and the wooden furniture and decorations were rotting. In the centre of the room there was a single chair sitting amongst the destruction, the moon casting down upon it as it faced them ominously.
On the walls there were numerous names and carvings etched into it, informing them that groups of teenagers had in fact broken into here at some point.
"No sign of any paranormal activity." the presenter uttered into his microphone, not that he really expected to see anything of the sort. Stopping they looked through the darkness towards a moving lump, one of the far more nervous members of the group cautiously flashing their torch over it only for everyone to settle when they realised it was nothing more than a discarded curtain caught in a minor updraft from a crack in the wall near by.
Looking around the presenter pondered where to go next as he explained the history behind the building, and why it had been abandoned so long ago. His head turning as he motioned towards the door leading into the back of the chapel.
Opening the door the group flashed their torches down the dark and narrow corridor, their brows sweating as they followed the presenter down it. Unlike the other places they had been before this chapel held a certain presence which caused even the presenter to feel a sense of foreboding nausea. Above them the wooden support beams had been creaking, some dripping with moisture from where the rain had gotten in.
"I certainly wouldn't want to come here alone." his guest admitted, flinching when they stepped on something and felt it ooze out across the floor underneath them. "Ugh, I just stepped in something nasty." he whispered, stopping to wipe his foot while the others carried on down the hallway.
When he finally stopped wiping his foot the man sighed, his face flattening when he found he was alone.
"They could have at least waited." he protested gently, turning to look back the way he had came in thought before turning away again. It was at that point that he stiffened, his eyes shuddering as he stared at the wall in front of him. He could have sworn he saw a face in the corner of the corridor by the door, just underneath the broken old table sitting there. Hesitantly he moved his eyes to the corner of his lids, and then, slowly, turned his head. Gulping he gazed at the corner of the room again, the face sitting there looking at him remained motionless however, causing him to wonder if it was in fact just a broken statue or a painting.
Turning towards it the man however decided better than to go look at it when a pair of hands came out of the shadows and the woman began to move forward, at that point his eyes widened and he swiftly turned on his heel to run down the corridor shouting bloody murder. Further up the corridor the group had stopped when they had heard a scream, all eyes boring into the door which had slowly shut behind them before they all jumped when their missing group member came bursting through the door and slammed it shut behind him.
Shocked to say the least the camera turned to face him as he looked at them in panic.
"G-Ghost, saw the ghost!" he gasped, his brow sweating and his face in a panicked fluster.
"You say the ghost?" the presenter asked, shooing him from the door before looking at the camera. Allowing for an intense pause the man slowly opened the door, the camera focusing in on the corridor as it slowly came into vision. Gulping everyone waited to see what was on the other side, the tension in the room simmering until it was still once more when they found the hallway empty.
"It's gone." the presenter surmised, pondering what the man could have seen whilst still being glad he had saw something. It made for great television when everyone was freaking out.
Turning back to what they had been concentrating on before everyone looked towards a corner of the room, where the presenter had been trying to contact the phantom he claimed was hunched over and hiding there. Hearing something behind herself the medic turned to look around, her eyes flicking from the open door to the door they had not been through yet. Heading over to the door she had not noticed that the cameraman had been ordered to turn and look at her, while she simply continued to lift her hand up and place it onto the icy handle of the door.
Along her arm she could feel an eerie wind crawling up her skin from between the cracks in the door, her eyes nervously flickering as she creaked down the handle and began to step backwards to allow the door to open. On the inside she gazed at the staircase, the uncomfortable darkness which veiled the contents of whatever was down the stairs causing her to shift further away from the door and let the presenter get in front of her with a torch.
At this moment in time he seemed to be the calmest of the lot, his wrist bending as he began to point the torch down the staircase. Flicking it back and forth and then up and down to try get a good look around the room the man, and his group, jumped out of their skin and felt their stomachs churn when he flashed his light over someone's face, only for them to have vanished when he flicked it back towards that side of the staircase in shock.
"Is that her?" one of them asked.
"That's the ghost…" the man answered, now certain what he had seen earlier was real.
"Evelyn Milnathort?" the presenter enquired, unable to push himself to go near the first step at the top of the staircase.
There was no response given however, leaving the group to quietly glance at each other and then press for him to go down the stairs as the cameraman tried to get a better angle. Hearing something behind himself he blinked and turned with the camera in hand, the corner which had once been empty filled by a woman who was hunched over there.
Nervously the cameraman examined her decaying wedding dress, while the presenter and the rest of the group had wandered down the stairs.
"Evelyn?" he dared to enquire, gazing upon her nervously.
"Please leave." she murmured, staring at the wall opposite to the one she was pressed against.
"I, uh…" he cameraman spoke, not quite sure if he wanted to tempt fate and call for the group to come back. As the wind began to pick up outside the ethereal white bride turned her head up towards the man, her eyes dull and lifeless.
"I simply want peace, why do the living constantly come here to remind me of Thomas?" she asked, her expression turning dangerously away from its previously angelic state.
"Frank!" the cameraman finally called, backing off as she stood up.
Hearing the group running up the stairs the cameraman took his eyes off of her, his head turning back to find that she was now gone again.
"What?" Frank asked, looking around as he moved out of the way to let everyone else back out into the open air.
"Some sick bastard dragged a dead deer into the cellar. It looks like it was hit by a car, too." the medic groaned, being the last to leave the room with a hanky covering her nose and mouth.
"The ghost was just here." the cameraman explained, trying to figure out where she could have gone.
Frowning Frank glanced around too, whoever was playing tricks on them was certainly very good at it.
"Did you speak to it?" he asked curiously.
"She wanted us to leave. She also said something about a 'Thomas'." the cameraman explained, shifting the camera further up onto his shoulder.
"Let's see if we can't find more paranormal activity in the main room." Frank stated, leading his group towards the door which had shut over again. Opening it and leading them down the corridor the group gathered near a broken pew and began to discuss their findings to the camera, while the cameraman concentrated on them by panning the camera back and forth; but only up until something started crawling up from behind one of the alter tables in the background.
"F-Frank…" the cameraman stammered, pointing at something behind him.
Confused the man turned, stiffening when the ghost that kept popping up here and there stood behind the alter staring at them.
"Evelyn?" he asked, hoping to finally converse with the spirit. If that was indeed what it was.
"I told you to leave." she stated, her line of sight passing through them.
"I would like to ask you some questions." he requested, not at all scared of her after having finally seen this 'ghost' that had been scaring the rest of his crew. Evelyn remained deathly silent at that point, causing him to continue. "Who is Thomas?" he asked delicately, her soft, elfin features shifting.
"Frank… I don't think she wants to talk." the man whispered, ready to do what he was told and get the hell out of her chapel.
"Ghosts cannot hurt you." he simply answered, still waiting on a response.
Tensing the group scattered when she suddenly grabbed a rusting candleholder and threw it at them.
"B-But a poltergeist can!" the cameraman stammered, trying his best to keep the camera on her.
"I was willing to let you be on my show, but throwing things at me is the last straw. Don't you know who I am?" Frank snapped, not about to take this kind of treatment from some woman in a costume. Picking up the alter this time the group's eyes widened, this was no ordinary woman.
"Frank, for goodness sake, let's just leave!" the medic shouted, not about to tarnish her records by telling the board of health that the cause of injury had been an inexplicitly angry ghost.
Frank however remained as stubborn as before and refused to move, arguing openly that it was obviously a lightweight prop made to look like solid oak. Finally the others decided to leave him to his own devices when she started floating through the air, the table being thrown across the room to smash against a wall.
"Get out!" she shrieked, causing him to cover his ears and the others to jump as they made their way to the exit.
It was around that time that the man finally decided to leave, his hands clutching at the back of his head as various things continued to be thrown across the room, the woman's screaming dissipating into the distance as he made his way outside. The other groups of people had come around to the front upon hearing the disturbance, curiously asking the group who were already outside what on earth was going on in there.
As days turned to weeks the footage that had been shot had gone viral, causing more and more people to demand access to the inside of the chapel, and with that Evelyn was pushed back more and more into the confinements of her cellar, until finally she could do no more to keep them away and was forced to leave the sanctity of the place she had died and remained in for numerous years. By night the woman wandered the forests in search of somewhere new to live, and by day she found garden sheds and other dark places to hide from the sunlight until it was safe.
With only a small jar on a chain around her neck, with dirt from the graveyard she had left inside, the woman found herself lost and uncertain of where she would end up now that she had lost the only place she could call home. The towns she wandered through at dusk looked nothing like they did sixty years ago, and as she wandered the streets she grew to understand that even day to day life had left her behind.
Wandering the outskirts of London, where she dared not go, Evelyn paused amongst the trees to look upon a large estate. The windows were black and the large courtyard was silent, on the roof of the house the woman could see people stood there overlooking the long winding road which lead away and out into the farmlands. Curiously she gazed upon it in wonder, her head slowly turning to look up at the skyline which was beginning to brighten. Turning her gaze back towards the house she began to turn to mist, her body separating as she drifted up towards the house undetected and crept in through a gap in one of the windows.
Inside she remained in her fog like state and tried to find somewhere to hide for the night, her spectral body spiralling up a pillar when she hit into it and continued going upwards until she began to take shape on the tops of a book shelf which was hidden by the beams of the ceiling. Here she could not be seen, here the light could not reach her.