Paranormal Investigations: No Situation Too Strange Read Online Free Page A
Author: EH Walter
If I got him some protection maybe I could convince Bob to leave me in peace.
Oak Hill was a beautiful park, full of a variety of trees which meant the park was a wash of colours at all times of year. It got its name from the fact it had once been covered with oak trees, there were still some left although their ancestors had long since been felled to build Saint Albans Abbey.
Grey squirrels were plentiful, as were enormous black ravens, footballers, joggers and people with children or dogs. It was a popular place and I was not sure how I was going to manage to stand on a bridge and ask for a troll without someone hearing me and thinking I came from the 'extra care living’ home opposite.
The park was such a size it took me some time to reach the first bridge. I hung about it uncertainly, leaning on the railing pretending I was enjoying the view when in fact I was trying to peer underneath to ascertain whether there was a troll beneath. There was nothing to see other than a brownish trickle of water ebbing over rocks, detritus and weeds.
I waited until a mother with a pushchair and a fox terrier passed before leaning as far over the railing as I could and whispering:
"Hello, is there a troll there?"
I straightened quickly as a red setter came bounding by and I smiled as his balding, middle aged owner followed. As they disappeared round the corner I leant over again and said a little louder:
"Hello! Is there a troll there?"
"Alright, alright - heard you the first time," came a deep rasping voice from the space underneath the bridge.
As I watched, the top of a violet coloured head covered with sparse dark hair appeared. As the head looked up at me I saw perhaps the ugliest thing I had ever seen in my life.
"What you looking at?" he asked as I took in his full form, "Never seen a troll before?"
"Er... no actually."
He must have been about five foot tall. He obviously had to crouch to fit under the bridge and was uncurling himself as he came out to meet me. His arms were far too long for his body and he had enormous, knobbly elbows. In one over-large hand he held a dirty wooden club. His knees were bowed as if he had a very bad case of rickets - or had lived under a small bridge for a long period of time, I guess. It was his face that unsettled me - it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. His dark eyes were bulbous and too close together, over them was a dark unibrow that could have done with some serious attention from a set of tweezers. His nose sprouted awkwardly out from his face, twisting at the end as if he'd broken it a few times. He had rubbery lips and a seriously nasty overbite. Imagine this in your head and then add dark pustules to decorate his key features. That was the troll before me.
"What do you want then?" he rasped, cutting straight to the chase.
"I was wondering whether you would consider being a bodyguard for a... a man being pursued by fairies?"
The bulging eyes stared at me without blinking. "Nah," he said, "I've got something on. It’s bingo night."
He gave a sniff then he swung the club over his shoulder and began to bend his knees to fit back under the bridge.
"Won't you reconsider?" I asked.
He looked up at me. "Trevor does shit like that, tell him Graham sent you."
Then he disappeared back under the bridge.
"Where do I find Trevor?" I asked a little too loudly and a jogger in phosphorescent yellow gave me a very strange look. "Where is that dog?" I added pathetically to cover my embarrassment, "Oh Trevor!"
A squirrel nibbling at an acorn paused long enough to give me a funny look and then continued gnawing.
As Graham the troll didn't seem to want to help me, I decided the only logical thing to do was to try the next bridge and ask for Trevor there.
I walked over Graham's bridge (would I ever think of the park in the same way again?) and around the corner to the other side of the park. The next bridge was at the far end of
Oak Hill was a beautiful park, full of a variety of trees which meant the park was a wash of colours at all times of year. It got its name from the fact it had once been covered with oak trees, there were still some left although their ancestors had long since been felled to build Saint Albans Abbey.
Grey squirrels were plentiful, as were enormous black ravens, footballers, joggers and people with children or dogs. It was a popular place and I was not sure how I was going to manage to stand on a bridge and ask for a troll without someone hearing me and thinking I came from the 'extra care living’ home opposite.
The park was such a size it took me some time to reach the first bridge. I hung about it uncertainly, leaning on the railing pretending I was enjoying the view when in fact I was trying to peer underneath to ascertain whether there was a troll beneath. There was nothing to see other than a brownish trickle of water ebbing over rocks, detritus and weeds.
I waited until a mother with a pushchair and a fox terrier passed before leaning as far over the railing as I could and whispering:
"Hello, is there a troll there?"
I straightened quickly as a red setter came bounding by and I smiled as his balding, middle aged owner followed. As they disappeared round the corner I leant over again and said a little louder:
"Hello! Is there a troll there?"
"Alright, alright - heard you the first time," came a deep rasping voice from the space underneath the bridge.
As I watched, the top of a violet coloured head covered with sparse dark hair appeared. As the head looked up at me I saw perhaps the ugliest thing I had ever seen in my life.
"What you looking at?" he asked as I took in his full form, "Never seen a troll before?"
"Er... no actually."
He must have been about five foot tall. He obviously had to crouch to fit under the bridge and was uncurling himself as he came out to meet me. His arms were far too long for his body and he had enormous, knobbly elbows. In one over-large hand he held a dirty wooden club. His knees were bowed as if he had a very bad case of rickets - or had lived under a small bridge for a long period of time, I guess. It was his face that unsettled me - it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. His dark eyes were bulbous and too close together, over them was a dark unibrow that could have done with some serious attention from a set of tweezers. His nose sprouted awkwardly out from his face, twisting at the end as if he'd broken it a few times. He had rubbery lips and a seriously nasty overbite. Imagine this in your head and then add dark pustules to decorate his key features. That was the troll before me.
"What do you want then?" he rasped, cutting straight to the chase.
"I was wondering whether you would consider being a bodyguard for a... a man being pursued by fairies?"
The bulging eyes stared at me without blinking. "Nah," he said, "I've got something on. It’s bingo night."
He gave a sniff then he swung the club over his shoulder and began to bend his knees to fit back under the bridge.
"Won't you reconsider?" I asked.
He looked up at me. "Trevor does shit like that, tell him Graham sent you."
Then he disappeared back under the bridge.
"Where do I find Trevor?" I asked a little too loudly and a jogger in phosphorescent yellow gave me a very strange look. "Where is that dog?" I added pathetically to cover my embarrassment, "Oh Trevor!"
A squirrel nibbling at an acorn paused long enough to give me a funny look and then continued gnawing.
As Graham the troll didn't seem to want to help me, I decided the only logical thing to do was to try the next bridge and ask for Trevor there.
I walked over Graham's bridge (would I ever think of the park in the same way again?) and around the corner to the other side of the park. The next bridge was at the far end of
Readers choose
David Louis Edelman
Steve Burrows
Stella Newman
Tish Wilder
Lucy Ellmann
Mark Henrikson
Robert Kanigel
Nikki Rae
Kara Jimenez
Jennifer Chiaverini