A True Case of Ghostly Possession

It all happened on the remote island where I live. One afternoon, my husband and I heard loud music coming from the empty house next door. The house had been empty for a while, but it used to be the long term abode of a Scottish man who died of cancer a few years previously, however, he regularly revisited his old haunt (scuse the pun) as a noisy ghost. Here’s a little back story for context.

Whenever a new tenant moved into his old house, when they went to work, we would hear the sound of furniture being moved around when there was no-one home!

This happened on several occasions and with two different tenants. Our only conclusion was that our old Scottish neighbour wasn’t happy about having new people in his house. He was quite a character when he was alive, and he seemed quite active as a ghost.

So, in 2021, when the property had been empty for a few years, we heard loud music being played. My husband went to investigate and arrived back a little creeped out. He said, when peering through the bedroom window, there was a man sitting in a chair but his visage kept changing; he was so unnerved at experiencing this that he didn’t want anything more to do with it.

Unable to bear the mystery, and get to the bottom of who was playing loud music, I went around. I arrived at the window and a man’s face immediately glanced back, it made me jump! He struggled to open the window and then asked if he could help me. Bemused, as he wasn’t one of the council workers, I asked him if he’d just moved in. It appeared he had, and after a lengthy conversation at the window, it turned out that he had arrived with only a small bag with a few of his clothes and not one stick of furniture! (Strange that my husband saw him sitting in a chair). Estranged from his wife, he upped and left, and because it was during Covid, the council had nowhere else to place him but our remote island.

Jokingly, I mentioned that it must be the old Scottish guy playing the music as he seemed unaware of any loud music playing, and we swapped a couple of ghost stories amidst plenty of nervous chuckles. I offered him a spare chair and promised to bring it round later that day.

Arriving later, I could still hear the music playing, but again, he swore he had no idea where it was coming from. Very odd. The following day we chatted some more in his house, and I promised to rally round the community to get him something to sleep on etc. He said I didn’t have to worry about knocking, just walk in anytime, which I wouldn’t do, even with someone I knew well.

Remaining in the house that day, the only other person to meet him at the door was the ex-nurse who gave him a single bed in pieces to assemble but I was the only other person to have met him face to face (this is key to the story).

People had left bits and pieces for him in his porch but he didn’t seem to bring them in. The recycling bins were still in his front room and it seemed that he’d confined himself to the bedroom that was right next to our front room. Luckily, the music seemed to have stopped and we thought no more of it. He knew where we were if he needed anything, my husband said I should leave him alone, that he might want some space.

The next day, me and my husband were busy with jobs and the idea came to me that he might not have any money for food and there were some local Covid funds available for those in need. Against my husband’s wishes to not bother him, I went round to offer him these funds. My husband was still creeped out by him, whereas I thought he was just a bit self-obsessed.

At his front door, I could hear the loud music playing again, it was obvious that it was coming from his house. I knocked but no answer. He’d previously said I could go in, so I opened the front door and shouted a greeting, but no reply, I figured no-one would have heard me over that racket! I went into the hall and called again, no answer. His car was at the top of the road so he wasn’t out. I felt nervous and the more I called and received no answer, I got all creeped out too! But something compelled me to continue. Reaching his living room, it was empty, apart from the large recycling bins still sitting there like unwelcome lodgers!

The music was coming from the bedroom and I wasn’t sure whether I should go in or not; all sorts of unpalatable scenarios filled my head, particularly a scene from ‘Silence of the Lambs’ where Jodie Foster is in the serial killers house, armed with a gun … but I was too obsessed about offering him the funds.

There he was, seemingly asleep in the tub chair that I’d given him. The music was coming from a mobile phone on the windowsill, playing very loud Motown; so he was lying about not hearing the music then? I called his name, no answer. Should I leave? Surely this was impinging on his privacy? I felt compelled to try and wake him. After several attempts, I could tell that he was unconscious.

Luckily, it was Friday and the man who empties the rubbish bins was a First Responder, and between us both, resuscitation was attempted. The air ambulance was called and I cleared up his small amount of belongings to the corner of the room, switched off his mobile phone and decided to wait outside to direct the ambulance. Other First Responders turned up and hung around outside to see if they could help too. One said she found an empty bottle of alcohol in the kitchen, so I wonder if he came to the island to commit suicide?

I directed the air crew to the property, and by that point, more people turned up. One was a neighbour, a young man in his twenties, fit and active, who had not long moved onto the island. He asked if he could help and I suggested he hang around just in case. Rather than being a nosy spectator, there was nothing more I could do, so I left them to it and went indoors.

Here’s the spooky part you’ve been waiting for…

The man was in hospital for about a week before coming home and the young man decided to knock on his door a few days later, to see if he could help him in any way. What he told me, I will never forget, and bear in mind that he had never met the man before… here goes… ready?

Apparently, he’d offered to help carry out the man on a stretcher that required four strong people to carry him, due to his size. I was bemused because my new neighbour was short and slender. The young man said, with wide eyes:

'But Avalina, he wasn’t the same man we carried out on the stretcher!!’

He explained that a blanket had been placed over him, it covered his rather large girth, complete with a pot belly stomach, but my new neighbour didn’t have a pot belly, he was more the size of a teenager!

The young man was visibly disturbed and bade me not tell anyone. Chuckling, I asked the colour of the man’s hair, I knew what he was going to say, that it was ginger… So spooky, because my new neighbour didn’t have any hair, in fact, his head was shaved, BUT, the person who did once have ginger hair was my dead Scottish neighbour, who would’ve taken four people to lift him due to his size, complete with pot belly!

We both agreed that my old neighbour had possessed this man; maybe he’d been waiting all along for the right bodily receptacle to receive him, maybe his face changing that my husband witnessed was all the different souls he was carrying around.

Eventually, my new neighbour left the island, desperate to make up with his wife. I looked him up on Facebook a few months later and he had recently retaken his marriage vows, but he wasn’t dressed in a conventional suit but in full Scottish regalia, with one foot raised on a chair! Bear in mind, he was not Scottish! This could be a red herring as many couples who marry on the Shetland Islands seem to have the man dressed in a kilt, but this was more than a kilt, he had a sash and a proud pose showing off his long socks!

The young man no longer lives on the island, but when he was moving, we spoke in hushed tones about that spooky encounter, a story that maybe one day he will tell his grandchildren.

(Picture made using the WomboDream app)