Meet Zilpha, a woman in her mid forties. She has just taken a bunch of tourists on an evening stroll around the English town of York. It’s what is popularly known as a “ghost walk”.
York is considered by many to be the most haunted city in England, if not the entire world. Many people have made claims of experiencing the supernatural. In fact, two members of her recent tour shared their experiences with the others.
They claimed to have witnessed ghostly activity many years ago. It was at a location where the tour stopped as Zilpha gave her memorized account of previous ghostly sightings. Their narrative diminished her role, resulting in a sense of jealousy as the tourists gravitated around two real-life witnesses.
Ghostly sightings are something she has never witnessed for herself. Zilpha craves a personal experience to share with others. Having her own ghost story to share with paying customers would certainly heighten the experience of her “ghost walk” tour.
Tonight, she will finally get to experience what she has longed to witness. But the ghost she will soon see will be like no other. Zilpa is about to take her own private “ghost walk” through… The Twilight Zone.
Zilpha said goodbye to the last of the lingering tourists. Then she was left alone. The tour was over; it was time to call it a night.
She stood there in her matching plaid skirt and light wool jacket covering her favorite red shirt. She wore nylons and low heels, generating a few appreciative glances at her legs from some of the blokes. Even with the chilly night air, she loved dressing up for the males in her tours.
The breeze made her pull her coat a little tighter around herself. It was time to get inside for the night. Time to go warm herself with a cup of hot tea.
She heard an unexpected sound from somewhere behind her. Zilpha whirled to look. “Hello? Is someone there?”
She saw nothing – no, wait! A shadow? She peered intently. What was she looking at?
It appeared to be the shadow of a human. She looked in the direction of the light that should have been capturing the individual. But there was no one standing there.
“Hello?”
She took a couple of uncertain steps in that direction. She hadn’t thought she’d left anyone behind. Had someone slipped away from her group unnoticed?
It was always a possibility. The ghost tours were rather informal. Folks had to keep up, and some of them tended to lag behind, gawking at something that interested them.
She looked around to confirm she was alone. Then she looked back at the shadow. But it was gone.
That was odd…
Zilpha walked over toward where she’d seen the shadow. She found herself standing on the corner. Then she looked down the street.
She thought she saw someone standing all alone. Was it a woman? Was she alone?
“Miss? Are you lost?”
The woman appeared to duck inside a doorway. Zilpha’s curiosity was piqued. “Miss?” she called out again, her heels clattering on the cobblestone street.
She reached the doorway where she was sure the woman had ducked inside. But no one was there.
Her heart skipped a beat. In all her time as tour guide for the “ghost walks” of York, she had yet to see one for herself. Was tonight finally going to be that night?
She heard the sound of clattering heels down another street. It made her strangely curious. So she walked to the end of the block.
When she got there, Zilpha looked in both directions. She saw no one – no, wait! There was another shadow!
A moment later it was gone. She suddenly became suspicious. Was Petey playing games with her?
“Not funny, Petey! Go home to your flat, you old sod!” He’d visited a couple of her previous “ghost walks” and had tried to play on her imagination.
She heard a female voice cry out in horror. She turned in the direction of the cry. “Miss? Miss, are you all right? Is anyone out there?”
She rushed down the street in the direction of the cries. Her heels clattered much too noisily for her piece of mind. Maybe she shouldn’t be attracting attention to herself?
She rounded another corner. That’s when Zilpha froze, gasping in horror. There was a faint shadow along the side of one building. It was clearly the silhouette of a woman swaying back and forth in midair, dangling from a noose.
Zilpha’s hand rose up, covering her mouth as she stifled a gasp. She turned in the direction of the light. There was nothing there. And now the shadow was gone as well!
She stood there trembling, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind wanted to run away with her. Was she finally experiencing a ghostly sighting in York?
It was late, well past her time to go home. The night air was chilly. What did she think she was doing, chasing ghosts at this hour?
She suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Zilpha turned to look. This time she saw the shadows of two men approaching.
She gasped as she whirled in the direction of the illumination. She saw nothing. She called out in hopeful desperation, “Petey, you arsehole! Stop playing games!”
She heard that female voice cry out again. Zilpha whirled to look, her heart beating fast. It had come from that direction.
She heard the sound of heels rushing along on cobblestone. Then she heard another cry. Maybe it was something much more dangerous than a ghost.
“Miss? “Love, I’m over here! Where are you? Let me help you!”
She heard footsteps coming in her direction. She turned to see two gruff looking men in heavy coats bearing down on her. A moment later they simply vanished, disappearing right before her very eyes. That’s when Zilpha turned and ran, her heart pounding a mile a minute.
She heard another cry. Instinctively she ran off in that direction. Was there a woman in trouble?
She skidded to a stop when she spotted a familiar looking shadow against a building. It was the silhouette of that same woman hanging in midair. She was sure of it!
She gasped in alarm as she looked toward the light, afraid of what she would see making the shadow. But once more, there was nothing there. Was her mind playing tricks on her?
She heard a cry from somewhere down an adjacent street. Instinctively she rushed to take a look. This time she saw a shadow of a woman, trailed by two shapes that appeared to be following her.
What if the woman had been in her tour group? Wasn’t she supposed to keep an eye on the ladies under her care? Didn’t that also include protecting them, if possible?
She rushed down the street. But the shadows and images were gone. She stopped and looked all around, her heart pounding in her chest.
Where had they gone?
She was in a familiar part of her tour. Her chase was taking her deeper into the narrow streets. It was odd there was no one else out at this hour.
She suddenly felt all alone. She was also becoming more than a little frightened. Then she heard steps coming toward her.
She turned and saw the shadows of those same two men. For some reason, she sensed they were up to no good. Instinctively she ducked into a doorway.
The sound of footsteps ceased as though they had stopped. Then she heard a strangled cry from somewhere up ahead. Zilpha looked behind her, making sure the men weren’t there before rushing down the street.
Her heels clattered noisily. They were fine for taking people around York to look at spooky old buildings with a unique history. Now she wished she’d worn something much quieter.
She rounded a corner and stopped in horror, staring at another shadow. A woman was kicking in midair. Her hands clawed at the noose around her neck.
Zilpha could actually hear gasping sounds. Someone was really hanging. She rushed forward to see what she could do.
“MISS??”
Then she saw nothing. There was nothing there. Bloody hell!
Petey! Surely this had to be Petey’s doing!
“You bloody wanker! Petey, you’re scaring me!”
She heard the footsteps of those two men behind her. Zilpha let out a cry. Then she rushed down the street, searching for a place to hide.
She’d always wanted to catch a glimpse of a ghost. But this was too much! She would settle for being back home in her nice, warm flat watching a scary movie on the telly with a nice cup of hot tea in her hand.
She ducked into a darkened doorway, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart. She panted heavily for breath, certain she could be heard.
She waited anxiously for several minutes. Then she peeked out of her hiding place and looked all around. The street was deserted; there was only a light breeze.
She cautiously stepped out, breathing a sigh of relief. Then she heard a cry followed by a choking, gurgling sound. It sounded like it was coming from around the corner.
Zilpha crept forward, her heart beating fast. She couldn’t help wondering what the devil was making her move toward the sound instead of away in the opposite direction. Her breath caught in her throat as she reached the edge of the building.
She hesitantly looked around the corner. A woman in a skirt, coat and heels was hanging from a noose at the end of a signpost protruding out of a storefront. She was clawing at the coil around her neck, grunting in breathless agony as her legs kicked.
Those two gruff men she’d seen earlier were standing right there. They were laughing at her as they watched. Surely they were the ones responsible for stringing up the poor, unfortunate lass.
Zilpha’s eyes flew open in horror, her mind screaming at the sight before her. But what could she do about it? Would they also hang her if they caught her spying on them?
She covered her mouth with her hands, stifling the urge to scream. Then she ducked back around the corner. She stood there frozen with shock, struggling to process what she’d just witnessed.
Her heard hammered in her chest as her breath caught in her throat. She’d witnessed something she probably shouldn’t have. There was no telling what would happen if those murderous blokes caught up to her.
A moment later she heard those familiar footsteps coming up from behind as though coming toward her. An instant later she saw their shadows illuminated by a lamppost. How the devil had they gotten behind her?
Zilpha’s eyes flew open in horror. She peeked around the corner at the gruesome scene she’d previously witnessed. But the location was now deserted.
She blinked in surprise. There were no men… no noose… no dangling, kicking woman. Zilpha shook her head in astonishment.
“But they were there!” she murmured to herself in disbelief. “I… I saw them standing there hanging her! I SAW IT!”
The sound of approaching footsteps abruptly stopped. Zilpha turned to look. Two men were standing there, eyeing her dangerously.
She let out a cry as she turned and ran. Her legs carried her down the cobblestone street, her heels clattering loudly. She had to get away!
She rounded another corner, ducking down another street. But this time there was nowhere to hide. The street was much too narrow.
In an instant she knew where she was. She was at Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate. It was only a few paces down from the actual shop that bore the same name.
She’d been down here many times before. She always showed this place to her tourists, enlightening them about its rich, colorful history. Somehow in her fright she had navigated herself back here.
Zilpha suspiciously looked all around. Had Petey been directing her down this path just for the fun of giving her a good scare? Had he arranged for her to see some specially prepared “ghosts”, just to give himself a good laugh? That bloody wanker!
She looked all around, expecting him to pop out behind her and start laughing his fool head off. Then she picked up the unnerving sound of a rope creaking from a heavy weight. It came from directly behind and above her.
She turned to look at the Arena Letting sign protruding out from the storefront. It had now picked up an additional piece of weight. She gasped in horror, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.
A woman hung from the tip of the sign, her arms dangling loosely at her sides. She was in a plaid skirt and light wool jacket with nylons and short heels.
Her eyes bugged out in frozen horror as her tongue lolled out past her lips. Fluid dripped down into a puddle upon the cobblestone street from where the poor woman’s bladder had given way.
Zilpha stared up at her doppelganger in absolute horror.
Then the poor girl fainted dead away…
—
“You ok, miss?” she heard him ask as two men helped her sit upright. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, love. You must have had a fright. Here, let us help you up.”
“Thank you,” she murmured as they helped her up onto her feet. Then she felt one of them loop a coil of rope around her neck.
“Wait! What are you…?”
She let out a cry of terror moments before she was lifted up off her feet. Her hands flew up to pry at the noose digging painfully into her neck. She gasped and grunted, wheezing for breath.
Off in the distance she heard a female voice calling out. It was a voice that sounded terribly familiar…
“You bloody wanker! Petey, you’re scaring me!”
Zilpha’s eyes flew open in horror at the realization of it all. Was SHE the one whose shadow she’d seen? Was she the one those two men had been chasing after?
She was her very own ghost!
Now she was going to find herself hanging dead at Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate!
She kicked and struggled, fighting the noose. That’s when she caught a glimpse of herself looking around the corner at her. There was a look of horror on her face.
The two men laughed at her, looking up at her appreciatively. Then the terrified woman she’d caught sight of ducked back around the corner.
She tried to find her voice to cry out. But she couldn’t push any words past her lips. “HELP ME!” her mind screamed. “COME BACK! I’M YOU! DON’T LET THEM HANG ME!”
Her eyes bugged out as her tongue poked out past her lips. She lost the ability to struggle when she was no longer able to feel her legs anymore. She finally hung limp and lifeless.
Her arms hung at her sides as she softly swayed back and forth. The rope creaked from her weight. Then her bladder released as consciousness faded away.
A few moments later her exact same likeness rounded the corner, saw her hanging there…
…and then fainted dead away…
EPILOGUE
“She was found hanging right here,” the female tour guide explained, pointing up at the sign protruding out of the storefront of Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate. “Nobody knows how she got up there. It’s another one of those mysterious York stories that cannot be explained…”
She trailed off as she saw a reflection in the window. It was a reflection of that poor woman who’d been found hanged in this very spot several weeks ago. The tour guide looked at the window in shock… and then blinked her eyes.
The reflection was gone…
“Uh… where was I?” she asked nervously, clearing her throat. “Oh yeah… moving on then…”
She herded the tourists off, only to pause when she heard a strange creaking sound from somewhere behind her. She turned around and looked up. That’s when she gasped in horror when she saw herself hanging limp from a noose.
She closed her eyes tight, unwilling to process what she’d just witnessed. Then she slowly opened them again.
Nothing was there…
She trembled as she rushed off after her tour group. Perhaps she’d had a bit too much to drink at the pub the night before…
2012; 2021 (written for “Zilpha” Feb 12 ’12; ed. Apr 20 ‘21 by riwa)