BLACK AGGIE

A Maryland Ghost Story

When Felix Agnus put up the life-sized shrouded bronze statue of a grieving angel, seated on a pedestal, in the Agnus family plot in the Druid Ridge Cemetery, he had no idea what he had started. The statue was a rather eerie figure by day, frozen in a moment of grief and terrible pain. At night, the figure was almost unbelievably creepy; the shroud over its head obscuring the face until you were up close to it. There was a living air about the grieving angel, as if its arms could really reach out and grab you if you weren't careful.

It didn't take long for rumors to sweep through the town and surrounding countryside. They said that the statue -nicknamed Black Aggie - was haunted by the spirit of a mistreated wife who lay beneath her feet. The statue's eyes would glow red at the stroke of midnight, and any living person who returned the statues gaze would instantly be struck blind. Any pregnant woman who passed through her shadow would miscarry. If you sat on her lap at night, the statue would come to life and crush you to death in her dark embrace. If you spoke Black Aggie's name three times at midnight in front of a dark mirror, the evil angel would appear and pull you down to hell. They also said that spirits of the dead would rise from their graves on dark nights to gather around the statue at night.

People began visiting the cemetery just to see the statue, and it was then that the local fraternity decided to make the statue of Grief part of their initiation rites. "Black Aggie" sitting, where candidates for membership had to spend the night crouched beneath the statue with their backs to the grave of General Agnus, became popular.

One dark night, two fraternity members accompanied new hopeful to the cemetery and watched while he took his place underneath the creepy statue. The clouds had obscured the moon that night, and the whole area surrounding the dark statue was filled with a sense of anger and malice. It felt as if a storm were brewing in that part of the cemetery, and to their chagrin, the two fraternity members noticed that gray shadows seemed to be clustering around the body of the frightened fraternity candidate crouching in front of the statue.

What had been a funny initiation rite suddenly took on an air of danger. One of the fraternity brothers stepped forward in alarm to call out to the initiate. As he did, the statue above the boy stirred ominously. The two fraternity brothers froze in shock as the shrouded head turned toward the new candidate. They saw the gleam of glowing red eyes beneath the concealing hood as the statue's arms reached out toward the cowering boy.

With shouts of alarm, the fraternity brothers leapt forward to rescue the new initiate. But it was too late. The initiate gave one horrified yell, and then his body disappeared into the embrace of the dark angel. The fraternity brothers skidded to a halt as the statue thoughtfully rested its glowing eyes upon them. With gasps of terror, the boys fled from the cemetery before the statue could grab them too.

Hearing the screams, a night watchman hurried to the Agnus plot. To his chagrin, he discovered the body of a young man lying at the foot of the statue. The young man had apparently died of fright.

The disruption caused by the statue grew so acute that the Agnus family finally donated it to the Smithsonian museum in Washington D.C.. The grieving angel sat for many years in storage there, never again to plague the citizens visiting the Druid Hill Park Cemetery.

THE CURSE OF AMEN-RA

MUST READ,(one of my best read stories)

The Princess of Amen-Ra lived some 1,500 years before Christ. When she died, she was laid in an ornate wooden coffin and buried deep in a vault at Luxor, on the banks of the Nile.

In the late 1890s, 4 rich young Englishmen visiting the excavations at Luxor were invited to buy an exquisitely fashioned mummy case containing the remains of Princess of Amen-Ra. They drew lots. The man who won paid several thousand pounds and had the coffin taken to his hotel. A few hours later,he was seen walking out towards the desert. He never returned. The next day, one of the remaining 3 men was shot by an Egyptian servant accidentally. His arm was so severely wounded it had to be amputated. The third man in the foursome found on his return home that the bank holding his entire savings had failed. The fourth guy suffered a severe illness, lost his job and was reduced to selling matches in the street.

Nevertheless, the coffin reached England (causing other misfortunes along the way), where it was bought by a London businessman. After 3 of his family members had been injured in a road accident and his house damaged by fire, the businessman donated it to the British Museum. As the coffin was being unloaded from a truck in the museum courtyard, the truck suddenly went into reverse and trapped a passerby. Then as the casket was being lifted up the stairs by 2 workmen, 1 fell and broke his leg. The other, apparently in perfect health, died unaccountably two days later.

Once the Princess was installed in the Egyptian Room, trouble really started. The Museum's night watchmen frequently heard frantic hammering and sobbing from the coffin. Other exhibits in the room were also often hurled about at night. One watchman died on duty; making the other watchmen wanting to quit. Cleaners refused to go near the Princess too. When a visitor derisively flicked a dustcloth at the face painted on the coffin, his child died of measles soon afterwards. Finally, the authorities had the mummy carried down to the basement figuring it could not do any harm down there. Within a week,one of the helpers was seriously ill, and the supervisor of the move was found dead on his desk.

By now, the papers had heard of it. A journalist photographer took a picture of the mummy case and when he developed it, the painting on the coffin was of a horrifying, human face. The photographer was said to have gone home then, locked his bedroom door and shot himself. Soon afterwards, the museum sold the mummy to a private collector. After continual misfortune (and deaths), the owner banished it to the attic.

A well known authority on the occult, Madame Helena Blavatsky, visited the premises. Upon entry, she was seized with a shivering fit and searched the house for the source of an evil influence of incredible intensity; She finally came to the attic and found the mummy case. "Can you exorcise this evil spirit?" Asked the owner. "There is no such thing as exorcism. Evil remains evil forever. Nothing can be done about it. I implore you to get rid of this evil as soon as possible." she replied.

But no British museum would take the mummy; the fact that almost 20 people had met with misfortune, disaster or death from handling the casket, in barely 10 years, was now well known. Eventually, a hardheaded American archaeologist (who dismissed the happenings as quirks of circumstance), paid a handsome price for the mummy and arranged for its removal to New York. In April 1912, the new owner escorted its treasure aboard a sparkling, new White Star liner about to make its maiden voyage to New York.

On the night of April 14, amid scenes of unprecedented horror, the Princess of Amen-Ra accompanied 1,500 passengers to their deaths at the bottom of the Atlantic. The name of the ship was of course, the H.M.S TITANIC

TAP, TAP, TAP

Jessica was the neighborhoods most common babysitter. Everyone trusted her and she was used for the job often. The Jacksons, who she had babysat for in the past, were going out on their anniversary. They asked Jessica to babysit until around midnight. She accepted. Although usually she didn't like the idea of being home alone so late, she knew the Jacksons and she loved their kids. So the parents left and gave her the number to call if their were any problems. First, Jess fed the two kids and allowed them to stay up for a little while. At about 9:30pm, Jessica put the baby in the crib, and the four year old in her bed. Jessica decided to go watch TV in the living room for awhile. Until about 10:00pm, she was peacefully watching the television when she began to feel a little tired. The Jacksons had told her they didn't mind if she took a nap, as long as the kids were already in bed. Jessica pulled out a blanket and curled up on the couch. Five minutes passed and she suddenly heard loud footsteps kicking up the gravel on the side of the house. Her heart pounded, for she was an easily scared person. The steps approached the window she was lying directly under... Suddenly, he heard loud banging sounds on the window. "BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!" They went on for ten minutes, causing Jessica to freeze in place. She tried to figure out what the sound was, but she knew there weren't any trees or bushes anywhere near the window to be hitting it. Although the blinds were closed, she didn't want to lean up and look at the window. The banging began to get softer and softer. "Tap, tap, tap." Then it stopped. Jessica sat completely still, still frozen from fear. She glanced up at the clock..10:35pm. She shivered, wishing the parents would come home. Jessica was dead-tired. She was scared to death to fall asleep, but her eyes kept closing, she couldn't help it. Finally, at about 1pm, she was awoken by Mrs. Jackson. "We're back now." She said. "Oh how was dinner?" Jess asked. "It was wonderful." "Um, Mrs. Jackson?" Jess asked kind of embarrassed to be asking an adult something like this considering she was fourteen years old. "Yes dear?" "Would you and Mr. Jackson mind looking out that window? I heard some creepy noises while you were gone and I just wanted to know if you could check it out for me." "Of course." She answered as Mr. Jackson came in greeting Jessica. "Hey Jess, how was it?" "Oh the kids were great." Jess replied. "Honey," Mrs. Jackson said, "could you pull up the blinds please?" Mr. Jackson walked over without question, and pulled on the string. Mrs. Jackson screamed. The window was covered in blood! It was smeared and looked as if someone was trying to wash the window with it. All three of them looked down, and below the window was a body. Just a simple man in a suit, clutching his throat, which was covered in blood. He had a desperate look on his face, and his stomach was filled with stab wounds. As it turns out, the man was robbed and stabbed just down the street, and he ran to the house to get help. But since Jessica was too scared, she didn't move. He couldn't yell since his throat had been cut, so he banged on the first window he found because there was a light on. The light Jessica had left on. In the end, he died from massive blood loss and because he was hurt so badly, he became weaker, turning his pounding on the window for help into a light "tap, tap, tap..."