Josh_00
To give some context, my family on my mother's side is from Northumberland, in the North of England. Now, Northumberland is a beautiful place, fields and woodland as far as the eye can see. However, being one of the oldest inhabited parts of the country,  it's  filled with dark, sinister history.

As a child, I grew up on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, a small but beautiful island that connects to the mainland by a road, or causeway,  that is only passable for a few hours a day, the rest of which it is covered by the cold, icy waters of the North Sea. This makes for a feeling of great isolation and loneliness whenever on the island, as the majority of the time, you're trapped there.

As you can imagine, such an island is hardly the land of opportunity, so when I was 16 I moved to the mainland with my uncle Adrian to work at his garage, as well as to study at Newcastle University, not too far from where he lives. I'm 18 now, and this all happened last November when I went home to visit my parents on the island. I set off at around 8pm, 3 hours later than I should have since I was working late on some car repairs, which meant that by the time I arrived an hour later at the causeway to the island, the road was already covered in a fine layer of crisp cold water. My 01 Vauxhall Corsa is hardly an off-roader, but still I thought I could make it across with relative ease.

This was a terrible idea, as not even half way across up the road the water was nearly up to my doors. There was no way I was going to make it across. Fortunately, there are raised structures, almost like treehouses, dotted down the road just for occasions like these. I pulled up to the nearest one, emptied my car of anything valuable, climbed the tall structure and waited out the tide.

The chilling November air froze me to my very core, whilst the tidal sound a few feet below me kept me constantly on edge. In just 15 minutes my car was completely enveloped, whilst a thick fog had crept over, which coupled with the inky darkness of the night sky, rendered seeing anything further than 20 feet away impossible.

So there I was, stuck essentially in the North Sea with a half empty bottle of water, a phone with no signal, a thick coat and a torch I'd taken from the boot of my car.

The tide wouldn't subside until morning, meaning I had a good 8 hours stuck up there.

Hardly the best situation, made twenty times as terrifying when I begun hearing strange groaning, almost creaking sounds coming from beneath. The sound was all encompassing, it stretched all around me, as if the ocean itself was crying out in pain. I was petrified, for a moment I thought maybe a whale had beached itself, so I peaked over the low fence of my temporary home, only to be met by the glaring gaze of a horrifying humanoid figure with piercing, glossed over eyes that seemed to swallow up all the light they were taking in from my torch.

Only the torso of the creature was visible, the rest of it was submerged in the frosty waters, whilst its arms were grasping the damp wooden ladder I'd climbed myself. I let out a scream of pure fright, as once again my ears were filled with the horrendous groaning as the creature slowly began ascending the ladder.

I frantically kicked at its head before mercilessly caving in its skull with my heavy metal torch. After several blows the creature released its grip on the ladder and slipped back below the surface into the murky waters. I didn't sleep at all that night, instead I kept my eyes open for that disgusting creature, and my ears open for its petrifying screeches.

The hours until sunrise felt like an eternity, but eventually the warm red glow of the sun crept over the horizon. Only when the tide had fully subsided did I feel safe to cautiously climb down the ladder and to my car. No surprises, it didn't start. I walked up the causeway until I had enough signal to call my father and ask him to come and pick me up, and that I'd explain on the way home what had happened. He was horrified by my story, even asking if I'd taken any drugs before hand.

Of course, I hadn't.  

Northumberland truly is England at its  best, breathtakingly beautiful and a far cry from the cities so many miles away. However be warned, its history is filled with Druids and other such religious activity, and many others report supernatural goings on, but for anybody here or even abroad, it's definitely worth a visit. Click image for larger version - Name: 646594E0-F4B8-412F-8C01-33AF1BD72D28.jpeg, Views: 5, Size: 205.42 KB
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