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The Trapped Evil
Now Lanreath is a beautiful little village. There is a grand and ancient church. There is a green. There is a pub. There is even a museum of rural life. And there are the ghosts.
The ghost that brought Ghosthunter to Lanreath in Cornwall is now securely kept locked up but in its day it was one of the most notorious and active spirits in the county. There are many here who still dread that it should ever get loose.
The story began back in the 18th centruy when the vicar of Lanreath was an elderly widower of untidy habits, but some personal wealth. He was, therefore, the ideal target for local matrons with daughters to be married off. In time the vicar chose one such young girl, who was admirably trained in domestic skills and could be counted on to keep a tidy house and minister to the sick.
Then a handsome young curate arrived. Before long village gossip had it that the young wife and the young curate had taken to each other rather too warmly. The old vicar, it was said, was being betrayed under his own roof.
Gossip turned to deep suspicion when the vicar suddenly died. He had been dining with his wife and curate when he realised there was no wine to hand. The vicar headed for the cellar, but fell down the steep stone steps and broke his neck. Did he fall or was he pushed?
The suspicions of the village were enough to drive the young widow back home, but the curate stayed on to minister to the parish until a new vicar arrived. He even officiated over the funeral of the man he was suspected of killing.
And the very day after the funeral, the trouble began.
A huge jet-black cockerel arrived in the village. Nobody knew where it had come from. And it was bigger than any cockerel anyone had even known. It was also downright evil. It hung about the churchyard and the vicarage. It would burst into raw-edged screaching whenever the curate came into view, puffing its feathers and flapping about in a fit of fury. If anyone approached the bird, they were driven back by a frantic onslaught of pecking beak and tearing claws which drew blood and inflicted pain. Soon the bird grew bold enough to attack anyone it could reach.
There could be little doubt. This was the spirit of the murdered vicar come back to wreak his revenge.
Finally, the villagers had had enough. They gathered together with nets and sticks, determined to capture the cockerel. They cornered the bird against the churchyard wall and threw their nets. But the bird flapped into the air and escaped through the open window of the Punch Bowl Inn. It flew across the bar and into the oven by the fire. The quick-witted kitchen maid slammed the oven door shut, trapping the irate bird. And there it has remained ever since. None dares open the oven door in case the vengeful spirit trapped within breaks loose and plagues the village once again.
Debbie, the landlady of the Punch Bowl, welcomed Ghosthunter warmly when he called. She has been at the pub for about 18 months and knows all about the legend of the Black Cockerel. She happily pointed out the oven door, now firmly locked shut.
"Have you ever been tempted to open the oven and see what's inside?" asked Ghosthunter.
"No!" said Debbie most firmly. "Not after all that trouble we had last summer." What trouble? "Why with the door in the corner there." She pointed to a door in the corner of the main bar."It's meant to lead to a tunnel that descends down to the church vault. Some of the village lads wanted to explore the tunnel. They came over with torches one evening and I opened the door for them. They went down and found the tunnel went for some distance deeper and deeper, but was blocked by a fall. They said they would come back a few days later with shovels and props to clear the blockage and get further down the tunnel."
Debbie stopped and eyed the door carefully.
"Then the trouble began. Stuff was moved around in here. You know, glasses and furniture and stuff. Then I was hoovering one day and the hoover just stoppped. It had been switched off at the wall, but nobody else was in here. Then one of the staff heard voices even though the room was empty and locked at the time. I wasn't having that. I locked that door and blocked it up with that heavy wooden settle" Ghosthunter had been wondering why a heavy seat was placed across the door. "Things quietened down after that. I'm not opening that door again, I can tell you," continued Debbie firmly. "And I'm not taking chances with the oven either!"
Duty done, Ghosthunter relaxed into a fine chair in the bar to enjoy a pint of local cider and a healthy helping of deliciously fishy Trawler Pie from the impressive menu on offer. But his eyes kept wandering back to the two locked doors.
What does lurk there?
To find Lanreath, take the B3359 from Looe north towards Bodmin and Liskeard. After about 7 miles alane to the left is signposted Lanreath. The village lies about a mile off the main road. The Punch Bowl pub stands in the centre of the village, opposite the Church. Head for the Church tower and you can't miss it.
