Board Thread:Off Topic/@comment-24077689-20131216231955/@comment-5269370-20131219124149

I actually wrote a pasta loosely based around an urban legend which has circulated my town for years.

The original story was that a market house, used for traveling British salesmen to sell their produce, was ransacked and the goods were stolen, with the market house eventually becoming abandoned. Over the years, it became desolate, deteriorated, and had an eerie presence off of it.

The legend had it that it was now occupied by a banshee who for one week every year, around Easter, would give everyone in out town strange dreams, remarkably changing weather, and drive the animals crazy. Children my age used to also say they could hear cackling from the house and that if you threw a stone through the top right window, that the same stone would be thrown back at you a few seconds later.

Creepy stuff!