As Quiet As The Grave

I think the county of Worcestershire is one of the nicest counties in England. Also one of the most mysterious counties, it is well endowed with small sleepy villages that seem lost in a time warp all of there own. It is as if time itself has passed them by, I suppose that is what makes England the tops when it comes to folklore, sprites, ghosts and things that go bump in the night.
 
I recently had the pleasure to visit the county, and stayed in a small village that nestled by the banks of the River Severn. It is the sort of village that one can drive past without knowing it is there. As I was pre warned I was already looking out for it, I was going south of Worcester, heading towards the small town of Upton-on-Severn, I had booked in advance into a old inn, that I was assured was full of old world charm and not to be missed.
 
The purpose of my visit was to find some information about my past. I knew nothing of my parents relations and this trip was to try to fill that gap in my knowledge and family history. I had learned my Grandmother had lived there but had suddenly disappeared many years ago at the age of 24, so this was hopefully a trip of discovery.
 
I booked into the inn the mist was settling down as I arrived adding to the thrill of the setting I found myself in. On entering the inn, I was greeted by a cheery tubby gent who introduced himself as the landlord and asked if I was the guest he was expecting. I assured him I was the Jenny Wize he was expecting.
 
Over dinner, I asked if he knew of my missing relation, a Miss Alice who lived down the road in Quay lane. I thought for a minute the smile disappeared from his face, perhaps he was just thinking, he shook his head saying he knew of no one by that name. As I looked up, he was staring down at me the sort of stare that seems to penetrate my very being. I finished the meal, slipping on my denim jacket, I ventured out into the night air, the mist now was quite thick, I made my way down Quay lane towards the river. My Grandmother used to live in the last house on the right near the River Severn.
 
The house seemed to appear out of the mist, standing in front of the house were two ladies, both dressed in what I would call old fashioned clothes, the first one rather younger smiled and asked my business. I explained that I was looking for a long lost relation called Alice; the Lady smiled and asked if I had looked at the graveyard at the rear of the church, she stated that most of the old graves were at the rear of the church. I thanked them for their advise and set back up the lane towards a second lane called Bowling Green, this in turn led to the rear of the church, I wandered around for a while.
 
The mist grew thicker, and the air seemed to be a lot cooler but it was a sweet smell in the air, a smell resembling chloroform, the smell seemed to linger in the air around the graveyard. I do not know what happened next but I found myself wandering down some stone steps, I seemed to be dressed in a monks habit it was all white, my hands seemed bound together, but there was no panic in me at all. In front and behind me were some, I presumed male figures, also dressed in monks habit, only their habits where a dark colour, almost black but not quite 
 
The leading figure had an old fashioned lantern that cast shadows of the ghostly figures on the underground walls. In my mind, I could hear a ghostly chant as we progressed under the graveyard; I heard a slight rumble behind me as a stone slab closed over the entrance we had just entered by. The passage way led in to a larger chamber, a stone sarcophagus was in the centre of the room, and I was made to stand on a round stone next to the sarcophagus. My white robes were removed and dropped to the floor; my naked body glistened in the shimming light from the lit torches positioned in the surrounding walls. I do not know why, but I seemed to know what was expected of me, no commands were spoken.

One monk removed the cords from my wrists, my arms hung by my side. Now two monks glided over, one holding a silver dish, the other monk removed a scoopful of a thickish paste from the dish, he eased my lower jaw down, I lifted my tongue up and the paste was deposited below my tongue, then gently pressing my tongue into the paste which seemed to set quite quick.
 
A tube was now inserted over my tongue and down my throat; I choked a little as the tube slid in. A tear came from the corner of my eye. It was impossible to resist, it was as if I knew what was required on me. A tool was now inserted in the top of my mouth and it ground the two front teeth away so when the jaw was closed the tube could protrude easily. Now more of the paste was placed in the jaw on top of my tongue, now the monk closed my jaw, the excess paste squeezed through gaps in my teeth, he held my jaw closed for a few minutes till the paste set solid sealing my mouth closed.
 
Now each nostril was sealed with the paste so now I was relying totally on the tube to breathe. My whole body now was being painted with a clear liquid, this had a three fold purpose firstly to kill all bacteria, remove all hair and thirdly to put a solid rigid coat over the body. After a few coats of the clear liquid I was held quite rigid, I was aware of my breathing rattling up and down the tube. Now I was being bandaged from head to toe, soon I was coated in bandage from top to bottom, and again the bandages were coated in additional layers of resin liquid till I was totally sealed in.
 
I suppose I resembled an Egyptian mummy, I was low lifted bodily in to the sarcophagus, my breathing quickened considerably as panic set in. Now my breathing tube was now connected to a second tube, this now took over my breathing whether I liked it or not,
 
It is a really strange feeling to have your rate of breathing controlled by a third party, the sarcophagus was now pumped full of resin totally entombing me, the stone lid was slid in place and all was quiet as death itself.  
 
 
 
 

27.04.05