Paranormal Survivor: The Curse of the Witch

Owning property near haunted land can be a lot worse than just a financial burden.
I pushed the branches and leaves aside, to reveal an elaborate headstone with a pentagram above the name...

Photo credit: flickr/EnriqueMendez

I’ve always had a deep love for nature and the outdoors, so I was thrilled when we moved to the country. My husband – Ron – had inherited the property after his grandmother passed away several months earlier. The property sat on over ten acres – with at least three acres covered in thick brush and a dense forest.

We thought it was odd when his parents declined our invitation to the housewarming party, saying they were sick.

Ron had been talking to them on the phone for ten minutes before he invited them, and they’d seemed perfectly fine.

Everyone else was eager to attend and we spent several days cleaning up and preparing for the party.

That is, until they turned up! Every friend and family member advised that they felt strange once they arrived.

My brother brought a friend along, who happened to be a medium and she was terribly agitated when they came in.

She muttered something and I pulled her aside to ask what she’d said, but she was very nervous and shaking badly.

The medium blurted, “This land is cursed!”

I was shocked when she advised both of us to sell the property and take whatever price was offered.

Then she begged my brother to take her home and they were soon followed by our other guests, who were all freaked.

Ron and I stood in the kitchen, looking at all the food and laughing at the medium’s absurd statement.

We had never felt anything creepy and we wondered if it was an elaborate hoax to get us to sell at a cheap price.

It wasn’t until two days later, when I was taking our two corgi’s for a walk, when my hair on my neck prickled.

I was surprised when both dogs started growling, before racing all the way back to the house, leaving me alone.

Something told me to keep going, even though I was shaking with fear. Then I saw a headstone under some bushes.

I pushed the branches and leaves aside, to reveal an elaborate headstone with a pentagram above the name.

For the sake of privacy and a strong sense of fear – as we still live on the property – I’ll keep the name a secret.

There’s a good reason why we stayed, which I’ll explain later. What happened next still gives me the creeps.

I decided to cover the headstone back up and when I stood, a strong feeling of being watched came over me.

Slowly turning around, I was shocked to see a hunched figure several feet away – watching me intently.

It seemed to be an old woman totally dressed in black, which included a fedora hat, a heavy coat and a wool shawl.

I thought it was odd that she was dressed for winter, as we were in the middle of a summer heat wave in August.

Normally I’d say hello and ask if she was lost but I sensed that this was not a normal woman or a normal situation.

She suddenly, angrily yelled out a sentence in a foreign language, then she turned around and raced into the forest.

Against my impulsion to follow her, I hastily made my way back home and decided to keep the event to myself.

Ron saw that something was wrong so I pretended to be sick, going to bed early and falling into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, when he went out into to chop wood, I called my mother in law to see if she knew anything.

At first, she was hesitant but I soon had her talking. I learned that I wasn’t the only one to have seen the old woman.

She told me that the old woman was a witch.

Apparently the witch had lived on the property decades before Ron’s grandparents even bought the property!

It dawned on me that the witch was dead and that I’d stumbled across her grave the previous day.

Ron’s mother went on to say that she’d never been happy growing up on the property, seeing as it was cursed.

When I pressed for more information she suddenly closed up and told me that I needed to get a Priest!

Then I remembered the medium, so I called my brother but he said that she refused to have anything to do with him.

Even an intensive internet search yielded zero information, so I tried to forget it, until I saw her again.

It was later that same evening when I was doing the washing and noticed something outside, under the oak tree.

The dogs were going crazy – barking and growling – but they wouldn’t come outside with me, so I went alone.

Ron was snoring in his armchair and I was brave enough to investigate on my own, even though I was afraid.

I approached the oak tree, yelling “Who’s there?” with the broom in my hand. I saw a shadow behind the tree.

As I raced around I slammed into the woman, who was very much flesh and blood, not a ghost – or so I thought.

Her glistening, black eyes shone out from under the brim of her hat and she shrieked so loud – I thought I was dying.

Then she snatched the broom from my hands, threw it into the bushes behind her and pointed a bony finger at me.

I put my hands up defensively and cried out, “Please don’t curse me!” Then she cackled and her eyes flashed red.

A searing bolt of pain went through my head, much worse than any migraine I’d suffered before that night.

I dropped to the ground as I writhed around in terrifying agony, barely noticing that she was dragging me away.

I felt the bumps of the ground along with sticks and stones, finally realizing that she was dragging me to the forest.

Even though I was in intolerable pain, I screamed and did my best to fight and escape, but she was powerful.

I pleaded with her but she wouldn’t listen, until finally she stopped – right in front of her tombstone in the bushes!

Somehow I knew that she was going to take me to the underworld, so I kicked and fought hard enough to break free.

I stood up and she grabbed my wrists as she muttered an evil spell, through gritted and gnashing teeth.

I saw that her teeth were like jagged rocks and her eyes were still glowing red – like coals in an unholy fire.

I continued to plead, “Please, please, I didn’t mean any harm. What do you want?!” She stopped and stared intently.

I felt many roots coming out of the ground, creeping up my ankles to my knees. Now I was crying uncontrollably.

She leaned forward and said in broken English, “Forest is mine. You no come here no more. Is MINE!”

Pointing her bony finger hard into my breastbone, I realized what had to be done. I nodded furiously.

“Okay, I will, I promise!” I meant it and I kept my promise. I also convinced Ron to do the same – to this day.

The curse is like a coiled snake, waiting for anyone to step foot in the forest where the witch resides, waiting to drag any trespasser into the Underworld.

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