THE ISOLATED INVESTIGATOR

THE ISOLATION MEMOIRS OF A GHOST HUNTER

with Hubert Hobux

Hubert’s “Supernatural” Shielding

Day 103: Paranormally Grateful of the courage of our frontline Key Workers…

Typically of me, I spend most of my working life in lowly jobs that if I were working still I would be now classed as a “key worker” one of the many heroic people who have been on the frontline for many, many months, protecting us and continue to do so. Instead I’m sat twiddling thumbs at the haunted bungalow... waiting for the lock down to be fully lifted so that the inn I nearly started working at reopens & wonders “if we actually need that old, decrepit shirker after all?”

Alas I live too far from any hospital to volunteer service, (lengthy train rides would be required) ... I contemplated helping at a close enough nursing home, but they have wisely taken isolation to the extreme and will not let strangers through the door at all, at the moment...

My sister actually does work in a care home, miles away from me in the old town of where we were brought up … and has done for years so she can officially be declared a ‘front line’ heroine in this war against Coronavirus, I think! .. She, also, “has the gift of seeing” and the Care Home she works at has hosted some of the strongest paranormal activity I have ever heard of ‘to boot! ‘

Obviously I can’t name the establishment as it has had a lengthy history of caring for the infirm... and will maintain that role for a good while to come hopefully... but I may be able to abstrusely relate some of the weirdness that has ensued there during her tenure as carer...

The place was built in 1894 and became known locally as the “Civil Service rest home” as the Government had requisitioned the private residence for a convalescent home during world war two, there afterwards reserving the patient occupancy for those retired from that genteel profession; until they sold the establishment for private nursing use in the 1960s that is.. and the bedrooms were finally opened to anyone who could afford round the clock care... the home never seemed to have a haunted reputation... until quite recently, when further management changes to the running of the place had to be implemented (the reasons of which I will not speak), and this drastically recent paranormal dust storm seemed to have been unleashed in the vacuum of that...

As with many similar health care facility buildings, the haunting started with the night shifts, many of the long Hubert’s “Supernatural” Shielding term residential clients were well loved but extremely aged, nature ran its due course and all of a sudden, familiar old faces were being missed in the roost, one by one they were quickly dropping off the perch.... resulting in several rooms standing empty for quite a while, and when a well-respected staff manager tragically died unexpectedly, team moral heavily dipped.... but the provision of care was paramount, and the night staff diligently sat in their station watching over their steadily declining ‘wards’...

The reports started filtering down that most nights, the carers would frequently hear sobbing on the top corridor... heart wrenching sounds of despair... they would check each and every room to see who needed comforting, and mostly found all the elderly patients soundly sleeping.... yes that did involve entering the unoccupied rooms, in case some stray confused resident had found themselves in one by mistake... but the vacant rooms were devoid of life every time... strangely there was one empty room in particular that was having issues with a seemingly faulty “call button “, the bell had started ringing for attention several times a week.. mostly in the early hours of the morning.... the carers always double checked, though they knew full well no one would be in there... and the Maintenance man could never find any fault on the system....

Noticeably the electrical wiring in the building started playing up on a regular basis, plug sockets faltered, lights flickered, electricians were always in attendance... searching for faults but finding none... “they were frankly baffled... “ and highly disconcerted one day when an unidentifiable “green slime” started appearing around the electrical fittings, all about the same time that that particular empty room had had its errant call button removed.... and had developed a very eerie feel!

The whole building was beginning to whiff of earthy decay... surveyors were brought in to check for rising damp, but the staff were whispering that there were more of the grave than the fungus about the odious odour! Disembodied footsteps were heard in the corridors, television sets would turn themselves on and off and all of a sudden... something invisible that brought an air of caution with it had decamped in the dark cellars, no member of staff would go down there alone they had decided, though none of them could put their finger on just why not exactly! The resident bookings started to improve with a change of care home executive and the Home was just about at full capacity again, though several of the old folk were not happy in that ‘particular bedroom’, and there were a

Hubert’s “Supernatural” Shielding number of new supervisory changes, as the new echelon of management personnel, didn’t seem all that au fait with the environment....

My sister loves the place still, she just gets on with her own duties and slews off all the weirdness with typical good grace... having said that... even she though, was taken aback by the following incident that was witnessed by at least five, completely perplexed staff one bright, bustling Saturday afternoon. They were sat having a tea break in the kitchen when the back door to the home suddenly threw itself open on a windless day! There was nobody near the door, but as the chef got up to close it, he started retching as he was engulfed by a foul stench they all described as a mixture of bodily sweat and sewage... then *that smell*, actually began to move through the kitchen, just like a filthy old tramp had walked in, all of the witnesses were able to follow the direction of the miasmatic cloud of energy by sense of smell alone.. they all followed it as the entity dissipated “solidly”, into and around the lounge, then floated along the lower corridors, headed up the stairs, flitted in and out of some open rooms, turned about, descended the stairs.... *flung open* the front door, with as much ease as it had the back... and the smell dispersed out into the fresh air having caused much alarm to the gathered care givers ... who were exceedingly relieved the thing had removed itself! They hadn’t a clue who the ghostly visitor was or why it had visited... but the more sensitive amongst the staff felt they had experienced a brush with something potently ancient... Seems it never returned again after that episode was never observed, or smelt anyway?

After that curious incident, the haunting relented a little, perhaps the smelly entity had come to collect a lingering energy and took it away? The cellar is still a place to avoid apparently, and the odd television will still flicker on when no one is expecting it too ...but as in all these unknown circumstances, the activity fluctuates... a nice manager that all the staff liked moved in and that probably helped settle the vibes somewhat.. I did enquire the possibilities of doing a paranormal investigation but of course, it’s a no go... the place still protective of old residents whether living or not... at least with my sister and the dedicated carers there... the place is held in goodly safe hands!

With Thanks to all Carers and NHS Staff for their total devotion to duty....

Hubert X

HUBERT HOBUX, the mild-mannered ghost hunter has been in isolation since MidMarch, confined to his humble abode, shielded away from public life he has started to write his ramblings, his recollections, his musings, his spooky shenanigans and his memories of his paranormal activities from the past and the present. Now that certain restrictions are being eased and relaxed, we asked Hubert to send some of his memories of ghost hunting to us for use in the magazine. He never emails them to us, he has them delivered by a chap on a horse, written in ink (we’d guess via a quill) and rolled up in ageing parchment.