I was ten years old, growing up in Liverpool, England. I was a pretty normal child with a good set of friends and a loving family.
My Dad had been taken to hospital for an operation on his legs. My mum and me went up every day to see him, and the medical staff used to let us stay most of the day.
Of course, being a ten year old tomboy, being in a hospital ward visiting bored me after the first couple of hours. I was restless. I wanted to explore, to go on "expeditions" as I said to my Dad, so off I went, exploring the hospital.
I came across a chapel. Now if you know Liverpool, you'll know that the Royal Liverpool University Hospital has a huge chapel, with a wind pipe organ. I had found it! Treasure! Just like Indiana Jones, who was my hero, I wanted to explore its secrets. My ten year old imagination was overcome with possibilities. The organ held a secret passage that would only open if you played the right tune, I told myself.
Excitedly, I sat down at the enormous instrument, and sheepishly pressed a few keys. I heard a giggle, and turned around to see what looked like a homeless man sitting on the pews. I eyed him, and panicked. I apologised, then ran.
The next day, I went back to the chapel and saw the homeless guy in the pews again. I went in, as he looked kind. We chatted and he seemed to understand my boredom. My childlike conversation was limited to things I liked and disliked.
After a short while, he asked me did I want to play the wind pipe organ again. I jumped at the chance, and he taught me how to play Frere Jacques!
This continued for a few days until one day I went down to the chapel to meet "Benny" (as I called him as he never told me his name, though I asked, but when I said Benny, he told me he didn't mind me calling him bit that name. I was a kid, I thought nothing more of it.)
I distinctly and specifically remember always running through the corridor to get there quicker, but on this day, I slowed down to a slow walk as I came close to the chapel threshold. I stood rigid still for some reason, and never stepped over. Benny was there... But Benny "felt" weird. And then I saw it...
His face started to twist into something I can only explain as evil. I was a kid, but I knew the difference between good and bad. This was more than bad. I remember thinking it was like looking into hell. (I'm not religious, nor will I ever be. That doesn't mean to say I don't believe in a creator, like an Architect of the universe as the Freemasons say. Even as a child, I had an aversion to religion. Why need the middle-man when you can "speak" direct? My own personal belief is something I'll get into another time.)
By this time, I was terrified. I turned to run, but it was like everything slowed down. It seemed the corridor got longer, I knew I was running fast, but it felt like I was moving at a snails pace. I remember screaming and at that point, everything became normal again. As I was running, I KNOW I heard the most evil laugh, ever.
I still remember that face in detail. I remember that laugh. I wonder from time to time, why it chose a chapel, and why it chose to show itself to a child.
My mother always says a hospital chapel is where there is more desperation, fear and pleading with "God" for the life of their loved one. She suggested that it's the "perfect feeding ground" for evil to bargain. It could be so, I'm not sure. The awful thing is, I know I'll face it again at some point in my life.
Incidentally, my mother was told by a "psychic" that at the age of ten I would face grave danger.
I swear this account is 100% real, honest and true. And I know each of us has our own belief system.