Season 4 Episode 1: Alone With Everybody (RERUN)

the house was everything they had ever dreamed of. Little did they know that, in truth, it would soon become the place of their worst nightmares. This is Unexplained Season four, episode one alone with everybody. Oh, and I have a message from the other Richard mc clean smith. I don't know who he thinks I am getting me to do this, but for what it's worth, he wants you to know that the first episode of Unexplained TV will be released next Tuesday, December third. You can find him at YouTube

dot com forward slash Unexplained pod check it out. At the northern edge of the beguiling Brecon Beacons in Cumbrie, under the shadow of penny Fan to the south and the Black Mountains to the east. That sits a large stone house, long and narrow with its rickety roof and

jumbled patchwork of brick. It lies at the intersection of two winding lanes, surrounded by a thick ring of oak, alder and witch elm, hidden from prying eyes by the holly, the hawthorn, and the ash from the front ivy pause green edily at its northern flanks, almost as if it were trying to drag it down and into the ground, while from the back the way the earth rises up into a rugged clearing of thick scrub. It'd be forgiven

for thinking it was part way to succeeding. Its name is heel Fannock, or in English road to the Peaks, a reference to the hills and mountains that overshadow it. An entry point of sorts, or perhaps a gateway, as some might say. Constructed in the nineteen fifties, like a repurposed limb grafted onto the remnants of an old barn, it is comprised largely of stone taken from what was

left at the old sixteenth century manor house. The lichen covered ruins, of which can still be found hidden deeper amongst the trees at the very back of the garden. It is May nineteen eighty nine, and all is quiet save for the distant chatter of skylarks. While high above light, tufts of cloud in the bright spring sky draw shadows across the roof. They drift lazily from front to back, east to west, slipping down onto the thick grass before

heading into the trees and disappearing somewhere beyond. Inside, silence reigns as dust mots float through soft beams of light. Spiders twitch in dark corners. The barn door creaks up above, a large crow comes to rest on the chimney pot, digging its beak into its feathers as it breams. When suddenly its head jerks up, the eyes alert to something rustling in the undergrowth. Moments later, something else, far more ominous,

is heard, the faint sound of an approaching vehicle. With a strained squawk, the crow spreads its iridescent wings and launches into the air, rising away and over the tree tops before it too disappears somewhere beyond. Back down below, he old fannok sits quiet and still as the sound of the engine draws ever nearer, until finally a car turns into the front drive and pulls up outside the house.

Silence returns for the briefest of moments before the front doors swing open and its excitable passengers spill out into the warm spring air. You're listening to Unexplained and I'm Richard mc lean smith. Thirty year old Liz was first to exit, followed by her partner, Bill, thirteen years her senior, from the other side of the car, a big smile

spreading across her face as she caught his eye. Fourteen year old Lawrence, Bill's son from a previous marriage, was the last to get out, slowly extricating himself from the back seat. Liz, her pregnancy bump just beginning to show above her waist, paused to take it all in as Bill and Lawrence set about unloading their things. It was even more beautiful than she remembered, She thought, the perfect place to raise their baby and begin afresh, free from

the distractions of the past. For Bill, it was the sheer remoteness of the place and the large studio space above the barn that had first appealed a gifted and renowned artist of predominantly surrealist pop art peace Pie Bill had become increasingly frustrated with how much his time was being taken up with his more commercial endeavors, creating decorative boxes and other pieces for the casual consumer. He old Fannock, he hoped would be a chance to rediscover the true

artist inside him. For most in similar circumstances, it is easy to become distracted by the excitement of a move, to become wrapped up in the accompanying sense of optimism it often brings. It is also easy, when in such a state, not to notice things that at the time might otherwise have seemed a little off kilter. The receipt for six pounds sixty six that Bill found shortly after moving in taken from the last meal the couple eight before arriving at the house, for example, or the sixty

six pounds sixty grocery bill would incur shortly after. There were certainly no signs of anything untoward that first summer, as the family settled into their new lives, bringing a whole host of life to join them in their new adventure, from cats, to goats and even a pig. Named Lucinda, and with a steady run of orders for Bill's work coming in, it wasn't long before he was finally able to dedicate some time to his more personal and fulfilling work.

By September, Lizz and Bill were married, and the following month, as if to top it all off, her waters broke. Despite some initial complications, come November, the couple welcomed new arrival, Ben into their dream home. Life, as they say, couldn't have been more sweet. But all that was about to change. It was one afternoon in mid November when Liz stepped out of the house for some fresh air. As a sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves in the trees.

She was struck for the first time by just how quiet it usually was out there, as if no birds ever seemed to alight in the garden. Perhaps it was just the drawing inn of the nights, or how winter had stripped the leaves from some of the larger trees, leaving her and the house feeling a little more exposed than usual. But as Liz watched the pale sun drop below the horizon, sending majestic crepuscular rays shooting white gold across the sky. It wasn't a sense of wonder that

she felt, but dread. Early. With all the family laying fast asleep, baby Ben begins to twitch in his cot, kicking out with both legs, with his hands squeezed up into little fists, and his face beginning to redden and scrunch up. Finally, his mouth opens wide and he begins to cry. Liz, having woken, instantly switched on the light and gathered Ben from the cot as she prepared to feed him. A weary Bill pulled back the covers and

headed toward the toilet downstairs. He had just started to pee when an unexpected noise startled him, a loud, hammering sound that seemed to be moving along the corridor above like heavy footsteps. Bill froze as the apparent footsteps near the top of the stairs for coming to a sudden stop. Assuming it to be his son, Lawrence, Bill headed back up stairs, only to find the corridor completely empty and

Lawrence's bedroom door now closed. He switched off the light and returned to his own bedroom, where he found Liz quietly placing Ben back into his cot. Bill asked if she'd heard anything too, but to his surprise, she hadn't heard a thing. He poked his head back into the hall, switched on the light, and stood watch for a moment, keeping his eyes trained on the studio door at the far end. Hearing and seeing nothing, he switched off the

light and returned to bed. The following morning, Bill and Liz were stunned to receive an exorbitant electricity bill from Swayleck, the South Wales Electricity Board, which was almost four times what they had been expecting. That afternoon, as she sat down on the bed to feed Ben, Liz couldn't stop thinking about the extortionate invoice and what Bill had said the previous night that he'd heard something moving about the house.

Although it was true that she hadn't heard anything herself, there was something that she hadn't mentioned that recently in her private moments, she had begun to feel as though something was watching her. Just then, the studio door at the far end of the house slammed shut with a bank, startling Liz. Momentarily thinking it was nothing, she returned to feeding her baby when a second closer door slam shut,

startling her again. It must be Lawrence, she thought, with ann with her eyes now trained on her own door. Liz jumped again when the sound of a third door being slammed was heard, this time leaving her utterly frozen in fear, for although the noise seemed to have come from inside her own room, the door hadn't moved an inch. Bill, who had heard the bangs from downstairs, burst in moments later to find a scared and confused Liz struggling to

comprehend what had just happened. Convinced it had something to do with Lawrence, she demanded that Bill tell him to pack it in, but Bill didn't understand Lawrence hadn't been home for over an hour. Bill called the electricity board at the first opportunity to dispute their invoice, eventually forcing them to send an electrician round to monitor the meter. Unfortunately, they found nothing wrong with it, though they couldn't say exactly how the family were racking up such a large bill.

Something in that house was draining the electricity one way or another. It was about the same time that Bill started noticing a foul smell emanating from somewhere in the kitchen, as if something putrid had been set on fire. A plumber was duly called to locate the source of it, but found nothing untoward. As winter approached, life at the house,

superficially at least, carried on as normal. However, though the couple had yet to acknowledge it to each other, both had the sense that something of the atmosphere in their home had re shifted. A few days later, Bill received a disappointing phone call from a major client. They were terribly sorry, they said, but they would have to cancel their order. Conscious of the unwieldy electricity bill still hanging over their heads, Bill tried to remain upbeat. After all,

he still had another large order to fulfill. Later that afternoon, they canceled too. As the holiday season approached, Bill and Liz, with their newborn son and Lawrence, who they felt was becoming increasingly withdrawn, found themselves in the grip of a very domestic sense of uncertainty. For by now Liz and Lawrence were noticing those footsteps too, and the occasional eruptions of the inexplicable putrid stench that continued to plague their home.

But most of all, they couldn't escape that unmistakable, skin crawling sensation that something else was in there with them. After sharing a first Christmas together in their new home, not least for the benefit of Lawrence and their baby's son. Bill and Liz agreed to not let the disappointments of the last few months and the increasingly strange events, get the better of them. It wouldn't be long, however, before

they were being challenged again. Early in the new year, Liz entered the barn overjoyed to find their goat Lulu had given birth to two kids, but when she neared them, her excitement turned to horror. Though one kid seemed bright and healthy, the other lay completely still, its tiny glassy eyes fixed and rolled back into its head. The mother had crushed it with her hind legs shortly after it was borne. Not long after that, Lucinda the pig was

found rushing about the barn, screaming wildly. A few days later, she was diagnosed with a rare disease for which there was no cure. The devastated family had no option but to have her put down. Liz tried her best not to overthink it all, to put it down to unfortunate coincidence, but when Bill's orders started drying up too, she couldn't ignore it any more. Picking up the phone one morning,

she took a deep breath and died. A few moments later, Bridget Buscombe, the previous resident of hio Fannok, answered the call. After introducing herself, Liz, cautious not to sound too odd, proceeded to ask Bridget about her time living in the house. She was disappointed, however, to learn that she had only fond memories of her experiences there. But as the pair were just saying their goodbyes, Liz sensed a slight pause from Bridget's end. Actually, she said, Finally, there was one thing, yes,

replied Liz. Once, when she had been lying alone, reading in bed, with her husband away on business, she became aware of a very gentle creaking sound. Looking across to the other side of the room, she was astonished to see her antique spinning wheel slowly turning of its owner call. She had stared at it utterly perplexed for a number of seconds before eventually rising from the bed and jamming it with a piece of paper. She knew it, thought Liz.

They hadn't been imagining it after all. As if in response to Lizzie's renewed conviction that something untoward was occurring in their home, the strange activity intensified, and in early March they finally agreed to seek help. A priest was found to bless the house, and although he didn't notice anything himself, the family were reassured by his lack of judgment and determination to help, and in the days that followed the house seemed lighter and more spacious than it

had done in months. One morning, after Bill had driven into town to run some errand Liz took Ben for a walk. When she returned, for the first time she could remember, Liz felt pleased to see the house, smiling warmly at the sight of her husband in one of the top floor windows as she made her way up the driveway with Ben. But then her smile dropped. Bill's car was not in the driveway, meaning it wasn't her husband. Standing at the window, with her breath quickening, Liz forced

herself to look up again. There staring back at her from inside the house was the gaunt face of an elderly woman she didn't recognize. A moment later it was gone. Left terrified at the recent turn of events, but unable to afford a move elsewhere, the couple turned their attention to the history of the local area in the hope that they might uncover something to help understand what seemed

to be stalking their home. Soon after, a builder, responding to a hopeful article placed by Bill in the local paper, got in touch. There was something he thought the couple should know. The man, as he went on to explain, had helped build the house in the nineteen fifties. At some point during construction, he and his co workers were gathering stones from the ruins of the old manor House when they came across a set of old, smashed up

headstones in amongst the rubble. Could it be, he wondered, that the house had in fact been built on the site of the old manor houses burial ground. One afternoon in the spring of nineteen ninety, Bill was upstairs working in his studio when Liz, who was just finishing cleaning up in the kitchen, had the sudden urge to check on their baby. With a rising sense of panic, Liz

hurried to the bedroom. Rushing through the door, she looked up in horror to find sitting in the chair opposite the crib the same elderly woman she had seen looking at her from the window a second later, she was gone. The next morning, Bill woke in agony to find both his hands strangely dry, the skin red and cracking all

over them. The sudden affliction left him unable to paint for weeks on end, But just as the increasingly oppressive atmosphere in the house was threatening to overcome them, the mood was lifted when the couple learned that Liz was pregnant again. The joyous revelation left them more determined than ever to find an end to their problems. Local spiritualist Ray Williams was recommended to the couple, having apparently succeeded

in helping other parishioners in similar situations to themselves. Arriving one bright April morning along with two colleagues, he swiftly set about examining each room of the house for any sign of psychical disturbance. Within minutes, Williams was in no doubt that something dark had found its way into the property. A few days later, with Liz and the children staying at her mother's in the nearby village of Cowbridge, Bill arrived at the property to meet with the three men again.

After letting them in, he waited in the kitchen as they carefully made their way around the house, blessing each room. A short time later, while Bill went through his mail, he heard a cry coming from the back of the house. Racing outside to investigate, he found one of the men doubled over in pain, claiming it had come on as soon as he approached the window to the downstairs bathroom. Returning to the house, the men made a bee line for the small area between the bottom of the stairs

and the restroom downstairs. Convinced it was where the malicious activity was centering, Bill explained with amazement that indeed, it was the exact spot where most of the strange events seemed to occur. With their investigation completed, the men relayed their findings to Bill, stating that they had felt the presence of four entities in total, three being an elderly woman and two young men, whom they had now successfully banished from the house. However, there was one other, far

darker and clearly not of this world. It was their opinion that, unlike the three other entities, it had not originated at the sight of the property, but had in fact arrived with Bill and may have been following him for the past. Twenty years. Later, in an effort to provide protection for the family, one of the men returned to construct a psychic wall of protection around the house.

Finding a spot on the kitchen floor, he carefully outlined a pentacle with chalk, before placing incense at each point. As the perfumed smoke drifted and dispersed into the room, quietly, he implored any spirit to vacate the immediately. Twenty minutes later he was gone, leaving Bill alone to rack his brains for any reason as to why a malicious entity might have attached itself to him. And then it came

to him Alex Sanders. Back in his early twenties, when Bill was trying to make a name for himself as an aspiring artist in London, he was introduced to a man named Alex Sanders, the self styled King of the Witches. The controversial Sanders had at one time been a follower of renowned Wiccan practitioner Gerald Gardner, before splitting from his

teachings to pursue his own interpretations of ceremonial magic. Having at one point been informed of Bill's ambitions, Sanders offered to initiate him into his coven in an effort to aid his development as an artist. With nothing to lose and curious to know more, Bill accepted his invitation. However, no sooner had Bill begun the series of initiation rituals than he had a change of heart and pulled out

of it. Could it be? He wondered that his failure to complete the initiation had opened some kind of gateway, allowing something unsavory to come through and attach itself to him. Either way, when the family moved back to the house that summer, they found that whatever the spiritualists had done appeared to have worked. Gone was the heavy, oppressive atmosphere, those strange noises and noxious smells. Despite the apparent cleansing

of Iyolfannock. However, Bill, growing increasingly worried about the impact it was all having on Lawrence, was unwilling to take any more chances. After consulting with his ex wife, it was arranged to have Lawrence take a room at a nearby boarding house. Though Bill was relieved that his oldest son could now get on with life away from the Mayhem, it was a further hit to the family finances. As if things weren't complicated enough, a nationwide recession had all

but done for his regular stream of income. In July, they were forced to sell the car, and being unable to pay the phone bill, their line was cut off. With a number of friends and family having found it difficult to sympathize with their recent plight, having no experience of what it was they had been through, the family could scarcely have felt more isolated that summer of nineteen ninety.

The trees that surrounded the house seemed to loom higher than ever, the rising hills of the beacons taller and more foreboding, and it wasn't long before Bill and Liz were hearing those footsteps again. Bill deftly wiped away the paint with the cloth and tried once more, this time taking extra care as he dipped the brush before again attempting to correct the line from the upper thigh to the knee. He stood back to get a better look and was immediately disappointed. Damn it, he thought, as he

grudgingly wiped the paint away again. Though the weeks since the house had been exercised in July had been comparatively calm, the family's financial situation was becoming increasingly desperate. Things appeared to be looking up, however, when Bill was commissioned out of the blue by his neighbour Susanna, to paint a

portrait of her favorite horse, Echo. Bill wasn't entirely sure if it had been out of sympathy or genuine interest, but either way he was grateful not only for the money, but also the chance to finally put his mind at rest and move on from the stress of the previous year.

It was a fairly simple piece to complete by his standards, constructed in two parts, the first being the composition of the backdrop, which Bill had decided on himself after spending the day scouring the local countryside for the perfect setting. With that completed, he had then set about painting in the horse on top, using a recent photograph provided by his neighbour. All was going well until it came to

finishing up the back leg. No matter how many times he tried, the brush just wouldn't do what he wanted. In the end, despite countless efforts, Bill was eventually forced to admit defeat, hoping that his neighbour wouldn't notice. Thankfully, Susanna, who was clearly very fond of the animal, was delighted with his efforts, and so it was with some distress when she informed Bill a few weeks later that Echo had died. It began soon after Susanna had hung up

the painting. Watching the horse in the paddock one afternoon, she noticed he was limping and clearly in some considerable pain. A subsequent check up with the vet revealed a peculiar injury to one of its hind legs, which had caused it to swell up inexplicably. Echo's condition to deteriorated rapidly over the next few days, until one morning he simply

wandered out into the fields, keeled over and died. Having returned home after burying the animal, A devastated Susannah found herself reminiscing in front of Bill's painting when she noticed something peculiar at the precise spot where the horse had developed his injury. Bill's multiple attempts to get the leg just right had left it looking oddly swollen. Then she noticed something else that sent a sharp chill along her spine. The backdrop that Bill had randomly chosen was the precise

spot where Echo had been found dead. A few nights later, Bill and Liz were woken at home by that familiar sound like heavy footsteps lumbering about the house. The thing, it seemed was back. In August, it was the turn of Reverend Roy Matthews of the Holy Trinity Church in Abergavenny to try and put an end to the couple's troubles. Arriving with three colleagues, he immediately set about getting a feel for the property, extraordinarily without any prompting from Bill

or Liz. He also came to the unsettling conclusion that a plaintive elderly woman, as well as two young men and one other much darker and distinctly inhuman entity, were haunting their home. The couple were left a little disappointed, however, when the best the reverend could offer was to get together and pray whenever they sensed the atmosphere growing oppressive. Soon after, whilst clearing space in his studio, Bill discovered a photograph of an elderly woman hidden amongst some old furniture.

When he showed it to Liz, her face dropped in astonishment. The woman, who turned out to be Marian Hoburn, the landlord's mother and former occupant of heel Fannock, was the same ghostly figure she had been seeing in December nineteen ninety, the couple's second child, Rebecca, was born, arriving like a spark of fire to illuminate the incessant gloom. But it wasn't long before the darkness was beginning to press in

once more. Shortly after the birth, Liz had just returned to the house after taking the babies for a stroll when she sent something moving across the kitchen door, calling out for Bill. She got no reply, despite now clearly seeing the outline of a tall figure offering just inside the door. Hurriedly, she gathered up the children, and, whilst keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the figure in the kitchen,

quietly backed out of the house. A few days later, Liz and Bill packed their things and moved into Lizzie's mother's house in nearby Cowbridge. The quiet market town of Cowbridge was a welcome respite from the isolation of Hulfannog, and though money was still an issue, with demand for Bill's work struggling to pick up, it wasn't long before they felt a sense of normality being restored for a

short while. At least, it was Liz who noticed at first that sudden familiar feeling of being watched as if a wispy tendril of darkness were reaching out to them from out of the depths of the countryside. One evening, having put the children to bed, Bill, Liz and her mother were just sitting down for dinner when a weird crackle of static came through on the baby monitor. That wasn't static, thought Liz with horror. It was a voice.

Immediately she rushed to the bedroom and switched on the light, but found only her two children fast asleep in their beds. A few days later, having heard all about Liz's troubles, a neighbor suggested she make contact with local reverend David Holmewood. Having reached out to him, Homeward arrived at Lizzie's mother's home a few days later along with his associate Anita, to discuss the couple's predicament. By the time he left at two a m. He was in no doubt as

to the source of their affliction. It was simple, he told them, you were being stalked by demons. That night, as David and Anita drove home through the narrow, winding country roads, something shot toward them from out of the dark and smashed into the windscreen with a mighty crack. The pair screamed as David slammed on the brakes and brought the car to a shuddering stop by the side of the road. Catching their breath, they looked up to

find the shattered windscreen covered in blood. Cautiously, David stepped out into the road, and there, illuminated by the glare of the head lights, he found the twitching body of a dead owl. The message was clear, he thought, stay away from the house. It was two weeks later that David and Anita were back on the road, keeping their eyes fixed on Bill's car up ahead as he led them through the winding country lanes toward their destination under

the shadowed edges of the Northern Beacons. But as they turned a corner, David was gripped by a sudden pang of anxiety, as if something were pushing down hard on his chest. Anita could only watch in terror as he struggled to keep control of the vehicle before finally bringing it to a skidding stop by the side of the road. Immediately, David reached out for Anita's hand, and there they sat, repeating the Lord's prayer over and over until they were

certain that disturbance had been lifted. Moments later, they pulled into the driveway of heel Fannock. The plan was simple to get in and out as quickly as possible, confiscating anything that could be serving as a conduit for the demonic forces which David believed were plaguing the home. From incense burners to books on the paranormal and Buddhism, all of it was thrown into a box and taken out

to the car. Upsettingly for Bill, it was largely his own artwork that was of most concern to the evangelists. It was this, above all else, that David believed to be empowering whatever demons were stalking the family. Bill could only watch with dismay as one offending article after another was removed and promptly escorted from the house. But what will you do with it all, he asked? We will

burn it, of course, came David's prompt reply. The following morning, with the help of his son, David dug a shallow pit in his garden into which all the tainted items were dumped, covered in lighter fluid, and set on fire. The pair watched as the flames jumped and licked ever higher, spitting and crackling as the fire feasted on the myriad items.

Then slowly David became aware of another sound, seeming to emanate from deep within the flames, a hideous screeching sound, as if something inside the fire were being burned alive, but it would all be in vain. Sadly, despite his best efforts, David's attempted exorcism would ultimately prove ineffective when only a few weeks later the Hauntings returned with a vengeance.

Unable to afford a move away and with all avenues seemingly exhausted, Bill and Liz had no choice but to try and learn to live with it all, and so they did, doing all they could to ignore the disembodied footsteps and strange spectral visions. As ever, Bill sought solace in his painting, and with one painting in particular, with which he was becoming increasingly immersed, a peculiar canvas of pastal colors and tubular strands that seemed to wrap and

snake around themselves. It was like nothing he had painted before. But such endeavors only ever provided fleeting moments of comfort, and by the end of nineteen ninety three, they had all but given up hope of ever escaping their horrifying ordeal. Little could they have known then that help was just around the corner. Film producer Annie mac donald had been wrestling with a documentary idea for some time regarding the exploits of apparent psychic and self styled ghost hunter Eddie Burkes.

Back in August nineteen ninety two, Burkes had achieved some notoriety after he claimed to have successfully banished the ghost of a sixteenth century courtier from the offices of the exclusive British banking Institut Coots. Incredibly, not only had Burkes been invited to locate the ghost by representatives of the bank itself, but they had also attested to his success

in removing it from their offices. When MacDonald, who also lived near the brecam Beacons, heard about the peculiar goings on at he Olfannock, she wasted little time in contacting Lissendbill with a proposition she would set them up with Burkes if they agreed to let her film his process. Though the couple were reticent at the thought of letting a documentary crew into their home, they also knew they

had nothing to lose. It was difficult to know quite what to make of the slight, bespectacled Burks when he first arrived that early March afternoon, dressed unassumingly in his dark green and Iraq. Nonetheless, lissen Bill tried to remain optimistic as they invited him, along with his friend and writer Gillian Cribbs, as well as MacDonald and her production crew into their home. Moments later, with everyone gathered around the kitchen table, Liz and Bill filled them in on

all that had happened so far. The tiredness and distress etched across the couple's faces as they talked showed just how difficult the last few years had been, while behind them, long triangular strips of wallpaper hanging limply from the wall gave the impression that even the house itself was starting to crumble from the strain. When Liz finally brought their account to an end, Burkes became suddenly distracted and asked to be taken outside to inspect the ruins of the

old manor house. With the camera operator following close behind, the group made their way into the garden through a line of trees and on to the crumbling ruins behind. Strangely, when they arrived, however, much to the operator's dismay, the camera completely shut down. The battery, despite having been almost

fully charged only minutes before, had gone completely flat. A second camera operated by MacDonald appeared unaffected, as she kept it steady on Burkes while he requested quiet from everyone, and then promptly fell into a trance. When mc donald had first traveled to meet Burkes, not long after she first informed him of the situation at Lisonbill's home, he

had also entered a trance. When he came out of it, he explained that he had been communicating with a young man whose soul he said was trapped at hee Olfanno. The man had apparently described the experience to him as like being caught in a thicket that conspired to entrap him every time he tried to escape. The young man had apparently also told Burkes that he had been murdered sometime in the nineteenth century by a sickening blow to the back of the head. Back in the garden. Burke's

voice broke the silence. The young man was with them now, he said, and was trying to tell him something. This was the place, he was saying, where he had seen something he shouldn't have, the very thing that had cost him his life. As Burkes went on to detail more about the boy's murder, Gillian noticed a look of recognition

spreading across Liz's face. As Liz explained, late during the second year of their stay at the house, she had learnt about the brutal murder of a young farm hand that occurred in the mid nineteenth century within walking distance of heieol Fannock. All this time she had wondered if it had anything to do with the strange activity in their home. Could it be she thought that this was

the young man that Burkes had been communicating with. It was a cold and misty morning in November eighteen forty eight at Coomboody Farm, a kilometer away from what would later become heieol Fannock, when farm servant Elizabeth Phillips rose just before dawn and made her way to a nearby brook to fetch some water. Approaching the entry gate to the yard, she was surprised to find seventy teen year old farm hand James Griffith suddenly appear from out of

the dark with an odd grin on his face. After muttering a brief good morning, he headed off toward the farmhouse, leaving Elizabeth to fetch the water on her own. When she returned via the gate a few minutes later, she was startled by a strange, moaning sound that seemed to rise out of nowhere. In terror, she hurried back to the house and called out for James to help her

find the source of the noise. When Elizabeth heard it again, coming from somewhere toward the back of the yard, she asked James to stay put while she went to fetch a torch. By the time she returned, however, James had disappeared after failing to find a source for the noise. It wasn't until much later in the day that Elizabeth caught sight of something lying underneath a dung heap that caused her to cry out in horror, a pair of

legs lying in a pool of blood. Having been roused by Elizabeth's screams, farmer John Powell and his son rushed to her aid. Together they pulled the body from the heap to find it was in fact another of their farm hands, the eighteen year old Thomas Edwards. Remarkably, the young man was still alive, remarkable because on picking him up to carry him inside, they discovered a four inch wide hole in the back of his head, bleeding profusely, and beneath him clearly visible on the ground the missing

pieces of his skull. Thomas clung on for a number of hours in a state of severe confusion, before eventually succumbing to his injuries. Just as Eddie Burkes had claimed, the unfortunate man had been killed by a sickening blow to the back of his head. Four months later, James Griffiths, who also went by the name of Thomas Williams, was arrested in Ipswich, some three hundred miles away, still wearing

clothes that he had stolen from Thomas Edwards. Griffiths eventually confessed that he had murdered Edwards to steal what little money he had in his possession. It was Eddie Burkes's belief, however, that Edwards had in fact stumbled upon some kind of satanic ritual and was murdered by Griffith, acting under the instructions of someone unknown to protect the identities of those who had been seen. However, no evidence has ever been

found to support this theory. Although curiously not that it suggests anything to do with the greatly misunderstood practice of Satanism. When Griffiths first confessed committing the murder, he also claimed that a woman named Jane Morgan had been the cause of it. This name was later retracted from his confession.

Once convicted of his crime, Griffiths, who had been abandoned by his family at a young age and spent most of his teenage life drifting from one job to another, was sentenced to death by hanging on Wednesday, eighteenth April eighteen forty nine. That by then eighteen years old, James Griffiths was marched to the gallows at Brecon County Jail in front of a large crowd of onlookers and hung

from his neck until death. With Liz concluding the tragic tale of the farm hands, something striking occurred to the group. Could it be that perhaps the spirits of those two young men were the same spirits that the couple had been told on two separate occasions were trapped in the property, with the landlord's mother possibly accounting for the third, that left only the fourth in human entity unaccounted for. With the group back in the kitchen, the quiet, Burkes took

a seat at the table. After confirming that the spirit of the young man he had been communicating with had now moved on, he closed his eyes and fell into another trance. Opening them again, Burke was drawn immediately to the spot near the bathroom, close to the bottom of the stairs, sensing a strange darkness was being harboured there. But there was also something else. He closed his eyes again. He could see a vision, he said outloud. A bright

cross was manifesting, bringing light into the house. Something holy, he said. Bill got up immediately from the table and appeared a moment later holding a large canvas painting. Burkes opened his eyes and looked up. Though the background was an abstract mesh of dark colors and thick brush strokes, the large white cross in the middle was unmistakable. It was just as Burkes had described. Yes, he said quietly,

that is what's been keeping you safe. Bill had painted the white cross three years previously, over the course of a few nights, the imagery having come to him completely out of the blue one evening. Burkes's friend Gillian, was instantly intrigued to know what else Bill might have unconsciously

channeled and asked to see the studio. In amongst what Gillian later described as a collection of landscapes and pop art studies, there was one painting that stood out against the rest, A strange and puzzling picture, unlike anything else in the room, comprised of a vast pastal colored mesh of tubular, tendril like things linked together in a bizarre

organic circuitry. Looking closer, Gillian noticed they were in fact vines, complete with sharp thorns, and in amongst them were what looked like internal organs, outstretched hands, and even the occasional face peering out with pained expressions as if they were screaming. Gillian was instantly reminded of Eddie Burkes's first conversation with producer Annie MacDonald. Was this, she thought, not a depiction of the imprisoned soul, as had apparently been described to

Burke's by the spirit of the deceased young man. Had he been calling out to Bill for help all this time. Although a possible identity to the apparent forth in human presence was never ascertained, Burke's was adamant he had done enough to exercise whatever it had been from Liz and Bill's home in the immediate aftermath of his trip to

the house. Once again the family felt a renewed lightness, and though they experienced a few subsequent troubles with Burke's returning in June to conduct a further exorcism, his intervention appeared to have done the trick. That following day, after Burke's second visit, the rate of electricity usage dropped for the first time since they had lived in the house. By nineteen ninety five, the family experienced no further hauntings,

and Bill's work was starting to pick up again. As for film producer Annie MacDonald, she never did quite get her film of Burke's in action, with the battery of one camera having inexplicably died as Burke's attempted communication with the spirits, McDonald's second camera appeared to be capturing it all fine. It was only when she returned home later, however,

that she had a chance to review the footage. Switching on the camera, she ran the tape forward to the point where the group made their way to the back of the garden and pressed play. With great anticipation, She watched as Burkes positioned himself by the ruins and asked for silence, then just at the moment of apparent contact, the screen went blank. She fast forwarded in desperation, but it was to no avail. The rest of the tape

was completely empty. This episode was written by Richard McLain Smith. Thank you as ever for listening to the show. Please subscribe and rate it if you haven't already done so. Unexplained will be coming to YouTube very shortly in video form, so please watch out for future developments there. You can subscribe to the channel at YouTube dot com Forward slash at Unexplained pod. You can also now find us on TikTok at TikTok dot com. Forward slash at Unexplained podcast.

Unexplained as an Avy Club Productions podcast asked created by Richard McClain smith. All other elements of the podcast, including the music, are also produced by me Richard McClain smith. Unexplained. The book and audiobook is now available to buy worldwide. You can purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Waterstones and other bookstores. Please subscribe to and rate the show wherever you get your podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've

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