Eels Blogs

Hallowe'en tonight. When the dead rises and roam the earth. The Ancient Celts also believed that the door between this world and the next world opens and the 'little people' have their party and race around the world, generally having a riot. I thought I might tell you a ghost story, er, my third one I think. The last one, if I recall, was about my experience with Black Aggie in the infamous Chelsea Hotel.

My next story takes place in NZ, 2000. (Before I go on, this story will be done in two parts.) I was just backpacking around the place, mainly in the South Island. I like the Kiwis. Very down to earth people that I just fitted in. The landscape blew my mind, though I've seen the French Alps, the Rockies, and a few other famous mountains. I've stood on the edge of the Great Salt Plains of Arizona (sp?), and the Great Sandy Desert but this landscape was stunning. Wild forest racing up to meet the the base of the towering mountains, razing rivers, and lashing seas. It was all here. I was on a fifteen day walking tour through the forest. Man, you had to be fit and I was at that stage very bloody fit. Eventually the tour ended and thankfully we all departed (but not without me decking the f**king Pommy prick for being a right upper class twat who never worked in his life and has mummsy and daddy paying for his f**king world trip. He boasted about it and me being working class and worked hard to do what I've done, I had to deck the prick and did it felt good).

I won't name the town I ended up in but I will say this: it was a hole. I thought Narrendra was bad, man this town poos all over that town as being the most boring city I've been in. I found the YHA which was an old stable. Stunning building but on the wrong side of the track, if you get my gist.

   Anyway, I arrived at the YHA and as I was climbing the steps, there was this bloke standing there. he was dressed in a collarless shirt, braces holding his dark pants up, a cloth cap, and wore glasses. He looked pale. He was dressed like a stablehand. I said g'day but he said nothing. 'Rude prick,' I muttered as I entered the YHA. It was a grand looking place with a high, dark ceiling and a staircase winding up to the three floors above, and a staircase leading down somewhere ( which I'll get to  later) and a long .counter which serves as the front reception desk. I rang the bell but no answer. I did it for a few min utes until I got sick of pressing the damned thing so I assumed that there was no one about so I left my gear behind the desk and wandered upstairs. It was the second floor when I saw a woman dresed in what looked to me was an uniform of some sort but in a dull grey. I saw her disappear into one of the rooms. I went to that room and knocked on the door and waited. No answer. I didn't hear a cleaner going so maybe she's in the bathroom, so I knocked LOUDER! No answer. F**k me, is she deaf? So I tried to open the door but it was locked. Wrong room? I tried the next room and the next room and so forth but they were all locked.

     "This is weird, man," I muttred as I hurried back downstairs. There was someone there so I signed, not saying anything and then explored the nightlife (hahahaahahaha nightlife. Man, that town was dead. And that was a Friday night. The best thing I saw in that night was a sheep wandering up the street and some of the locals getting excited when they saw it...were they licking their lips, I don't remember) The next day I found where that other staircase led to. The TV room. It was a cold, cement dudgeon. A ripped settee with stuffing spewing out of it and a scruffed leather chair. Sitting in the chair was a young woman with long dark hair, wearing a 1970s plaid shirt and flared jeans, and sandels. very groovy but very outdated. I don't recall her face. Now, here's the weird bit. I said to her, since the TY wasn't on, may I switch it on. I turned my back for, say ten seconds, and turned around to say something but...the chair was empty. I would've heard her getting up. I would heard her walking across the floor. What happen to her? A man came down the stairs and looked at me as I looked at him.

    "Hey mate," I asked. "Did ya see some chick walking up those stairs?'

    'Nein,' he replied. 'I saw no fraulien coming up stairs. You okay,?' He asked before staring goose stepping around the room. I left quickly as I could.

I was leaving the next day anyway so as I booked out I happened to turn to the owner and said something about the girl in the basement. The owner went pale and asked me to follow her to the main office. (I was half hoping she was going give me a root). She looked at me and asked me to tell her what I saw. I told her what I saw and she nodded.

      "I'm impressed, Snapper," she said. "First, I have no idea who that man you saw but that's new to me. The grey woman? Oh, that's our ghostly maid. She's fine. Harmless. The girl in the basement? Well, she died in that chair in 1978 of a smack overdose. You're one of the very few who actually got to see her. In fact," she leaned closer. "You're the only one who saw all three ghosts."

Uh huh! Last thing you really wanna hear. You're a f**king ghost whisper. But things only got stranger after this. Tune in to the next ghostly adventures of Snapper. The next one isn't exactly a ghost story but a strange story that invloves two women who are not quite there...and why the f**k they glung onto me, I would like to bloody know...

                                                   Happy Hallowe'en

By the way, who's that standing behind you?