Episode Details

Good  evening, it's Spooky Boo from Sandcastle. Tonight I have for you three very spooky tales from the creepypasta library. Get my spooky stories on my website or sign up for commercial free Patreon at scarystorytime.com. Now, let's begin.Story Number OneAcross the Moorsby William F. HarveyOriginal StoryIt really was most unfortunate. Peggy had a temperature of nearly a hundred, and a pain in her side, and Mrs. Workington Bancroft knew that it was appendicitis. But there was no one whom she could send for the doctor.James had gone with the jaunting-car to meet her husband who had at last managed to get away for a week’s shooting. Adolph, she had sent to the Evershams, only half an hour before, with a note for Lady Eva. The cook could not manage to walk, even if dinner could be served without her. Kate, as usual, was not to be trusted. There remained Miss Craig.“Of course, you must see that Peggy is really ill,” said she, as the governess came into the room, in answer to her summons. “The difficulty is, that there is absolutely no one whom I can send for the doctor.” Mrs. Workington Bancroft paused; she was always willing that those beneath her should have the privilege of offering the services which it was her right to command.“So, perhaps, Miss Craig,” she went on, “you would not mind walking over to Tebbits’ Farm. I hear there is a Liverpool doctor staying there. Of course I know nothing about him, but we must take the risk, and I expect he’ll be only too glad to be earning something during his holiday. It’s nearly four miles, I know, and I’d never dream of asking you if it was not that I dread appendicitis so.”“Very well,” said Miss Craig, “I suppose I must go; but I don’t know the way.”“Oh you can’t miss it,” said Mrs. Workington Bancroft, in her anxiety temporarily forgiving the obvious unwillingness of her governess’ consent.“You follow the road across the moor for two miles, until you come to Redman’s Cross. You turn to the left there, and follow a rough path that leads through a larch plantation. And Tebbits’ farm lies just below you in the valley.”“And take Pontiff with you,” she added, as the girl left the room. “There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of, but I expect you’ll feel happier with the dog.”“Well, miss,” said the cook, when Miss Craig went into the kitchen to get her boots, which had been drying by the fire; “of course she knows best, but I don’t think it’s right after all that’s happened for the mistress to send you across the moors on a night like this. It’s not as if the doctor could do anything for Miss Margaret if you do bring him. Every child is like that once in a while. He’ll only say put her to bed, and she’s there already.”“I don’t see what there is to be afraid of, cook,” said Miss Craig as she laced her boots, “unless you believe in ghosts.”“I’m not so sure about that. Anyhow I don’t like sleeping in a bed where the sheets are too short for you to pull them over your head. But don’t you be frightened, Miss. It’s my belief that their bark is worse than their bite.”But though Miss Craig amused herself for some minutes by trying to imagine the bark of a ghost (a thing altogether different from the classical ghostly bark), she did not feel entirely at her ease.She was naturally nervous, and living as she did in the hinterland of the servants’ hall, she had heard vague details of true stories that were only myths in the drawing-room.The very name of Redman’s Cross sent a shiver through her; it must have been the place where that horrid murder was committed. She had forgotten the tale, though she remembered the name.Her first disaster came soon enough.Pontiff, who was naturally slow-witted, took more than five minutes to find out that it was only the governess he was escorting, but once the discovery had been