12 minute read
THE REINCARNATION OF NICKY ALAN: She came, she saw, she was born again
Robert remembered the history, but not the exact location of the murder on the beach. The screams continued, Robert now seriously spooked considered swimming in the sea with his rods to his immediate left, to avoid going back down the harbour alone and confronting the source of the screams. “If anything appeared, I would be straight in the sea!” he explained to me. In all, the screams started and continued for around 40 minutes… Rob was packed up and gone by 11pm.
Knowing I was the author of the book, he emailed me his nights terror, the next day Friday 25th September 2020. I confirmed to him that this area was the location for the horrible murder of Janet Cornfoot, murdered by the people of Pittenweem in 1705, it was exactly where the distressing cries were coming from.
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It’s 1980s hot summer and where better to take the kids but the seaside. Pittenween where the old natural harbour holds a sandy grain fit for any child’s magnificent sandcastle. Mother left her 5-year-old to dig away as she warmed her bare feet in the hot sands. Suddenly they were not alone. A woman in bad dirty rags was standing not ten feet from her, smiling, and gesturing with her hand at the child’s efforts of a sandcastle. The mother politely smiled at the strange woman looked at her child then back towards the frail woman in rags…but she was gone! Immediately vanished! This was indeed instant as she was nowhere to be seen, no one was around and clear views for over 100 yards each way showed no woman in rags! Then it struck…. the woman had left no footprints in the sand…nothing, not even where she had been standing. The woman asked her child “did she see the lady standing there” to which she replied, “she seemed nice yes”!
It was a conundrum of mystery for the next couple of decades. Then she read THE WEEM WITCH and the chapter on Janet Cornfoot and her horrible death and where exactly it took place! It hit home, exactly where she had seen the strange lady, as memories returned of the strange day on the beach with her daughter, it could now all make sense, had she seen the ghost of a murdered Witch called Janet Cornfoot? And are her ghostly screams a lament of a bad day many years past that even today the Pittenweem church does not want to talk about today!
Hearing Robert’s story, I went to the old harbour with my good friend Roger Wilson. We arrived and stayed in the harbour area at the low tide till dusk came and although now pitch dark it remained peaceful and calm. We remained for several hours and left, we took a multitude of photos and in one a figure is seen, sitting at the extreme low tide on inaccessible rocks, strangely watching us … the figure of a woman.
As a footnote, Janet was killed around 11 pm after 5 hours torture on the beach, the exact same time that our fisherman heard the screams!
Leonard
Do you want to know if your ancestors may have been accused, tried and/or killed for Witchcraft? Leonard has access to certain historic records that others don’t. Send us your surname (or maiden name) to thelowdownonwitches@hauntedmagazine.co.uk
and we’ll let you know if your bloodline shows any traces of Witchcraft running through your veins. You never know.
TIME AFTER TIME…
The Reincarnation of Nicky Alan
had been told throughout the years
Ithrough meditation that we have many lives down here so that we can enjoy ‘human experiences’ as a contrast to the sublime existence of being a spirit up in Heaven. But do we really? Do we cling on to the fact that we all are immortal and come back down to earth in a different body, a different existence as we fear one life is too final? Months after being retired as a Police Detective I was to get the answer in the form of my first spirit guide introducing himself…
I was sunbathing in my back garden. It was a glorious summer’s day in 2003. My mind was at rest listening to the bird song in the garden. I was totally relaxed and feeling completely calm. I decided to do a little meditation. I suddenly felt exceptionally cold and realised I was in a cave. I could smell the damp moist soil on the cave floor and heard the incessant tap tapping of a water source somewhere nearby, dripping onto the rocks. I started to try and open my eyes, but realised that this was an important meditation as I heard a voice say, “It is time
that I introduced myself, I am Julianus, I will show you how we met and that I have been responsible for you ever since.”
Now when I say ‘heard a voice’ it’s a bit different from human hearing. Sometimes they are discarnate, in the ether, like a proper human voice. The majority for me are in my head. It’s like a loud insistent thought that you know is not your own. I can sense the tone and accent easily, a bit like when I channel through spirit people during readings, or the angel realms. They all have a different energy and power, the angel realms are like a startling command, it’s quite amazing. Well, this voice was melodic and velvety with a slight Italian accent. I fell in love with the energy of this stranger’s voice immediately. I was intoxicated with each word. The rocks at the entrance of the cave then started to drag open. I walked out and found myself in a very hot climate looking out at a beautiful landscape lined with Cypress trees.
I asked, “Where are we?”
He replied,
“Trastevere, Rome.”
“What is the year?” I asked.
“1452”
“Why am I here?”
“This is where we shared a life together, your name was Mary.” I then felt a massive whoosh as if I was lifted into the air and found myself outside a stunning church with white pillars fronting the entrance. I looked up and saw the name of the church, ST CECILIAS. This man I recognised as the man who had been sitting in my shack for years in dreams and meditations took my hand and said, “You were welcomed here in the House of Mary Magdalena in this year.” I looked into his bright blue eyes and wanted to cry, the care and love that exuded from them was indescribable. He then took me through to a courtyard and led me through an archway to the left. He pointed to the arch and said,
“Here I write the word of the lord. My prophecies will remain here intact forever.”
We then came out through the arch and were standing by a tomb, St Cecilia’s tomb.
“This was your home, Mary.”
In the sun I looked to the crypt and saw the outline of my habit in silhouette form. It had a square shape. He then said,
“I have someone for you to meet.”
A man approached me with the most beautiful thick wavy hair. His face just represented total serenity and love. He took my hands and said,
“Mary, I am Nicholas, I preside over you and the men in this space. I am here to protect you.” I saw the letter V in my head.
He placed a kiss on my forehead, I could feel the emotion spread through me like an unknown heat. His love was infinite. He looked up to the sky and said, “Come we must make haste, Ava Mary is upon us!” He gently led me towards the church where I heard the most stunning chanting. I was then ‘back in the room’ as they say. I was wide awake and crying my eyes out. It was one of the most beautiful things that I had ever experienced in my life. Once I had blown my nose the next thing, as any ex-Detective would do, was hit the Google button! It was a weird experience because every time I tried to google St Cecilia’s I would get to a link but then the computer would go down or the internet was lost. I sensed that perhaps it wasn’t the right time. To be honest I was a little scared that my miracle introduction was just my imagination. I didn’t want to discover that it didn’t exist. Silly me! But there came a time when I realised, being a spiritual ambassador wouldn’t just work on my word only. I needed proof that he and I existed, so that I could challenge the sceptics with my evidence. I decided to get a ticket to Rome. I was terrified as if I went there and none of this existed, it would seriously give my faith a huge kick in the balls. I needed to know though, Julianus hadn’t left me alone since that fateful day, so I needed to know that he was real and not a figment of my imagination. I got to the hotel, dumped my suitcase and went outside to hail a taxi. I cannot tell you the fear that smashed through me as I got into the taxi and asked the driver,
“Can you take me to St Cecilia’s church,
Trastevere?” he just said “Si.”
My heart was beating out of my mouth as he drove straight into a square and stopped. I looked up and let out a gasp mixed with a sob. I was in St Cecilia’s Square and was looking up to the familiar church frontage with the white pillars and ‘St Cecilia’ written as bold as anything across the rendering.
I walked through the courtyard in a daze looking at everything I had seen years before in my meditation. I touched the familiar fountain, a ruin now, but remembered it flowing vibrantly with water.
Instant memories kept hitting my mind with every sight that I took in.
I could see the gated area to my left that I knew led to St Cecilia’s crypt and the archway that had Julianus’ writing etched into it. I was exceptionally frustrated as the gate was locked. I then walked into the church and saw a bust of a monk. It was a St Franciscan monk, which I later discovered did a Sabbatical in a cave prior to serving God. That explained the cave then! I went on to discover that Julianus was here in 1452 and did write words of prophecy in the arch that led to the house of Mary Magdalena. Nuns were welcomed into the church here in 1452 where they were allowed to reside with the monks.
It was simply staggering. I was standing in a place that I knew so well, 600 years later!
To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. Now I knew why I was always completely at peace in churches despite not being religious. I had to have incense burning all of the time at home as well. I just couldn’t stop crying as I touched the walls of this sacred space wondering if I had touched the same places hundreds of years ago. I also learned that “Ava Mary” was what they called the Ave Maria prayer in that time, that was chanted at sunset hence why Nicholas looked up to the sky. ‘Nicholas,’ I thought, ‘I now need to find Nicholas.’ Reluctantly I left the church and headed straight for the Vatican. If you have ever been to the Vatican you will know it’s like a house for giants. It is colossal with thousands of people wandering around everywhere. Well, I knew it like the back of my hand even though I had never been to it in this life. I went straight over to a guide and asked quite impatiently,
“Where is Pope Nicholas V crypt from 1452 please?”
The guide looked into his guidebook.
“No, he is not here, Signorina”
“Yes he is! Look again,” I said, frustration lacing my words.
“No Signorina there is nothing here.”
“Oh don’t worry!” I said abruptly, which was quite out of character for me.
I then turn around like a woman possessed and walk towards this concrete opening with complete confidence and bounced down the stairs frantically. The second crypt on the right, I threw my body over and sobbed like a baby. I had nuns coming up to me asking if I was ok! I then looked down to the plaque and saw ‘Pope Nicholas V’. From his details I saw that he did cover the Trastevere diocese during 1452. Don’t even ask me why I was so emotional, I felt like I was mourning the loss of a family member. I was so amazed and humbled at the same time. Previous incarnations, soul guides and everything I had ever seen since a child was real, this was never a figment of my imagination. I had proved it to myself. After what seemed like a lifetime, I reluctantly pulled myself away from his crypt and went back up to the main hallways. Amazingly the same guide came running towards me. “Signorina,” he smiled, “My apologies. How did you know of his crypt? It is in no guidebook, but I asked one of the oldest guides here and he told me it was indeed down below in the crypt room!” I had no words to answer him, I just smiled.
“You are a special lady, come with me!”
The next thing, he was guiding me towards this small shop in the Vatican.
“Go buy two phials.”
Without questioning him I went into the shop and picked two small bottles. At the till the lady gave me my change. I looked at the coins and said,
“This is unusual, you have given me a gold coin in my change!”
“It should not be here, it is the Vatican’s currency,” She frowned looking confused.
She was obviously in two minds as to whether it should be given to a member of public. She hesitated but then made her decision, “Well it was obviously meant for you, take it!” I thanked her enthusiastically, wow one of the Popes special gold coins! I then gave the two phials to the guide and he spoke in Italian on his radio.
