My husband and I had been married for nearly a year and had been living with my dad and grandma since my mom had passed. We needed a little time to ourselves and with the weatherman saying the weekend would be great, we decided to take a trip to Mystic, Connecticut. We hadn’t planned on spending the night, but decided to pack a bag just in case.
We took off from Long Island and encountered horrendous traffic due to work on the Miannis bridge which had collapsed weeks earlier. Despite the traffic, we were having a good time just being away, talking and knowing that we had nothing to do but relax.
The only problem was that we had expected to arrive in Mystic by lunch and when we finally arrived in Mystic, it was nearly three in the afternoon. We knew then that we would have to stay overnight if we were going to be able to see the seaport and any other sights.
Being young and naive, we didn’t realize just what an attraction Mystic was on a beautiful summer day. After calls to about half a dozen hotels, we were still without a room for the night. We were driving around, trying to find a place for the night and ended up at a Howard Johnson’s, hoping for the best.
Unfortunately, there were no vacancies at the HoJo’s either, but the clerk was a nice young man who suggested a small place on the lake that had a number of cottages for rent. It was right down the road and he thought that they might have vacancies.
We took the short trip down the country lane. Before us was a beautiful blue lake where some small boats were moored by a dock. To the left was a small building that was clearly an office for the cottages. To the right were 5 or 6 cottages nestled in a horseshoe shape in the woods.
I can remember feeling uneasy as we pulled further down the lane, parked and walked into the office. At the time I thought that my unease had to do with the fact that it was already close to four and that I was tired and hungry.
Just as the young man had thoguht, there were vacancies. The blonde woman behind the desk was very cheery and smiley. A kind of cheery and smiley that unnerved me for some reason. Again I wrote off my unease with the clerk to it being time for a break.
We dropped our small bag with the overnight things in the cottage and went off to dinner in Mystic. Because it was early, we were able to get a table at the Seaman’s Inne, a delightful and romantic restaurant along the Mystic River. Afterward, we strolled through town for a couple of hours, seeing as many sights as we could before heading back to our cottage.
I didn’t realize as we went back to the cottage that I was starting to feel uneasy again. The cottage was actually quite nice and big enough for a number of people. There was a large first floor with a kitchenette, living room area and a bedroom. Above the bedroom was a loft space where there was another sleeping area. The kitchen and bathroom both had home made soaps available for use and in general, the place was kept very nicely. Despite that, I was uncomfortable.
We watched a little TV to relax and then went to sleep, tired from the trip and walking around.
Hours later, something woke me.
I opened my eyes and realized that beyond the edge of the loft, something was hanging. Plus, there was loud chanting going on, as if for a Black Mass. Fear gripped me and my heart was pounding in my chest.
I closed my eyes, convinced that I was still asleep and dreaming. Taking a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes again, but something was still swinging in the air beyond the loft and the chanting hadn’t stopped. The fear from earlier was still as strong and as I focused on the swinging object, I realized it was a man dressed in Puritan garb.
He had a noose around his neck and was hanging from the ceiling.
I fought to wake up, but realized that I was already awake since when I looked around, I could see everything around me quite clearly. I pinched myself and felt it. I glanced at my hubby who was in bed beside me, sleeping soundly even though I was more afraid than I had ever been and even though I could still see the hanging Puritan man and the chanting seemed to have grown stronger.
Panic gripped me. Something was telling me that we had to leave. I knew that if we didn’t leave the cottage we would die. I don’t know why I believed that, but I did. I felt as if there was something evil there that intended to hurt us.
I woke my hubby and said that we had to go home. He thought I was crazy since it was one in the morning and our drive back to Long Island would take at least 4 hours or so thanks to all the Miannis bridgework.
I wouldn’t take no for an answer. In fact, even while he was trying to find out what was wrong – I couldn’t get out anything other than “We have to leave” since I still heard the chanting, but could no longer see the man — I was up and getting dressed.
He gave in and started to pack.
I grabbed the keys and said that I would be waiting in the car. I couldn’t stand to spend another minute in the cabin, still hearing the chant although it was starting to fade. The sensation of evil and danger hadn’t dissipated, however.
I told my husband not to take anything from the cottage, not even a matchbook (We used to collect them from where ever we went). He looked at me as if I was crazy and maybe I was at that point. I was crazy with fear.
I rushed to the car, opened the door and locked myself in, certain that I couldn’t go back into the cabin and as certain that we were still in danger.
When my husband came out, I unlocked so he could get in, but then immediately locked the car back up. We pulled away from the cottage and up the country lane, but I still couldn’t relax. As we drove down the lane toward the highway, I still felt as if something was chasing us and it wasn’t until we were close to the highway that the chanting in my head — which had been gradually growing lower until it was just a buzz in my head — disappeared and with it some calm returned.
I was silent for nearly another hour as was my husband, but then he finally asked what had happened.
When I told him, he believed me. He knew I wasn’t the kind prone to flights of fancy or hysteria. He believed that I had made a connection with something. Of course, being Scientist Guy, he wanted me to research it when we got home. He wanted to find out if I had tapped into something that had happened in the spot where those cottages were located.
I knew for sure I would never do that. I drove the name of those cottages out of my brain, afraid to know that it was possible to connect with something so evil, because that was the one thing that I knew — something evil had been there.
I’ve had other experiences, some good and some odd. This night was like no other and I hope I never ever repeat it. The night upset me so that it’s hard for me to stay anywhere old. Now if I walk into a place and get an uneasy sensation, I heed that feeling.
I wish I had the first time.