4.10 | A Den of Nightmares: The Ancient Ram Inn's Demonic Denizens

What secrets do the ancient walls of the Ram Inn hold? Join us as we recount the chilling night that John Humphreys first encountered a malevolent force that dragged him from his bed, marking the beginning of a lifelong battle with the supernatural. Discover the eerie history of the Ancient Ram Inn, a place where ancient pagan burial grounds and dark rituals intertwine with tragic spirits and spectral monks, creating a haunting tapestry that challenges our understanding of the past and the present.

As we explore the sacred rituals of ancient pagans unearthed during a renovation in 1997, we uncover how these powerful ceremonies and the redirection of natural streams may have awakened long-dormant spirits. From the sorrowful presence of a woman accused of witchcraft in the Witch's Room to the gentle attempts of young Rosie to connect with the living, we paint a vivid picture of the spirits that still roam the halls of this haunted inn. The tales of spectral monks, a high priestess, and a Roman centurion in the Bishop's Room add layers to the inn's haunted reputation.

John Humphreys' harrowing encounters with an incubus and succubus, as well as his unwavering dedication to preserving the inn despite relentless supernatural activity, underscore the profound impact of past energies on our present lives. As we contemplate the interconnectedness of our experiences and the lasting energy we leave behind, the Ancient Ram Inn serves as a poignant reminder of how the echoes of history shape our world. Tune in to reflect on the blurred lines between our world and the next and challenge yourself to listen to the echoes of the past.

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Transcript

Speaker 1: 1:07

It was supposed to be just another night, one more unremarkable night in the endless parade that makes up a life. But for John Humphreys that night was a live wire, a jagged thing that would slice deep and leave scars that no amount of time could ever smooth over. John was the kind of man who saw potential in the forgotten, in the crumbling corners of history that most would tear down and forget. He had bought the ancient Ram Inn in 1968, not just to save it from the wrecking ball but to restore it, to breathe life back into the old bones of the place. But on that first night it wasn't the stillness of a long, abandoned building that greeted him. It was something far more twisted, something with teeth.

Speaker 1: 2:03

He had settled into bed, pulling the covers up against the damp, unforgiving cold that seemed to seep out of the very walls. The stone was rough-hewn and ancient, holding onto the centuries like a grudge, and the darkness pressed in, thick and almost tangible. He shifted under the covers trying to find a spot that didn't feel like it was digging into his bones, but the unease of the new place gnawed at him. Time ticked by, the silence becoming a weight on his chest. The silence becoming a weight on his chest. He could hear the house settling around him, timbers creaking, the wind rattling the old windows. But there was something else too, something just out of sight, just out of reach, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. And then it hit him like a freight train in the night A grip, cold as the grave clamped down on his arm with a force that sent him bolt upright. He barely had time to react before he was yanked out of bed and dragged across the rough wooden floor, his body scraping against the boards, as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll in the hands of something that wasn't quite human. Panic set in his heart, pounding in his chest like a drum, breath catching in his throat as he tried to make sense of what was happening. But there was no making sense of it. There was only the terror, the realization that something was in the room with him. There was only the terror, the realization that something was in the room with him, something he couldn't see but could feel all the same, dark and malevolent and filled with an anger that he could taste like copper on his tongue. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over the grip released, leaving him sprawled on the floor gasping for breath.

Speaker 1: 4:01

In the silence that followed, john lay there, heart thudding in his ears, every nerve alive with fear. This wasn't a bad dream, wasn't the product of a tired mind. No, this was real, too real. The ancient Ram Inn was alive, pulsing with something dark and ancient, something that had reached out of the past and grabbed hold of him, refusing to let go. This was just the beginning, and whatever it was, it wasn't done with him. Yet what is it that makes the ancient Ram Inn one of the most haunted places in England? Is it the blood-soaked history etched into its walls? Or is there something else, something older, something that still lurks in the shadows waiting?

Speaker 1: 4:53

I'm Jeremy Haig, and this is when walls can talk. Throughout the ages, man has repeated the same earnest saying more of a question, really, or perhaps even a plea if these walls could talk, but what if they do, and always have? Perhaps their stories, memories and messages are all around us. If only we would take the moment to listen. On this podcast, we reinvestigate legends and tales of the past and allow the echoes of their lessons to live on once again, informing us, educating us and sharing new and unique insight into the inner workings of the paranormal and spiritual world. Will you dare to listen?

Speaker 1: 5:56

This is when Walls Can Talk the podcast Ghosts. They reach out to us in ways that crawl under our skin and lodge themselves in the dark corners of our minds. We don't just see them. We sense them fleeting and half-glimpsed in the periphery of our vision. We hear them in the whispers that slip through the cracks in the night and sometimes, if we're truly unlucky, we can feel the icy brush of their touch, a touch that can freeze your soul in place. Our journey through the haunted places of the world has led us to some of the most spine-chilling spirits and supernatural entities that spit in the face of death itself. The lights flicker just for a moment, but long enough to send a shiver down your spine. You try to shrug it off, but the air grows cold and deep down. You know the truth You're not alone, not anymore.

Speaker 1: 7:12

Watton Under Edge, a sleepy village tucked away in the Codswolds, seems like the kind of place where nothing bad could ever happen. Rolling hills and postcard-perfect cottages paint the scene of an idyllic English countryside, but looks can deceive. Beneath that peaceful facade lies something much older, much darker. This land has secrets much darker. This land has secrets, secrets immersed deep in the soil, where the roots of ancient trees have entangled themselves with the bones of the forgotten.

Speaker 1: 7:48

Long before the ancient Ram Inn was even a whisper in someone's mind, this ground was sacred to a people who saw the world in ways we can barely understand. They worshipped the earth as a living, breathing entity, and they believed that death was not an end but a transformation. The dead weren't just buried, they were returned to the earth like seeds meant to grow into something new. The rituals of these ancient pagans were solemn, powerful affairs, conducted under the watchful eye of the moon and carried out with a reverence that made the very air hum with energy. It's hard to imagine what an ancient ritual like this might have felt like, but I imagine a funeral ceremony under a sky littered with stars, the moon casting long shadows over a landscape shrouded in mist. The scent of burning herbs fills the air and rhythmic chanting echoes through the night. As the tribe gathers to bid farewell to one of their own, the body, adorned with sacred symbols, is laid to rest in the earth a final loving act. For these people, the ground was a cradle, a sacred place that would hold and protect the soul as it moved into the next world. To disturb such a sight would be to court disaster, to tear open the veil between the living and the dead, unleashing something that was meant to stay concealed.

Speaker 1: 9:24

Centuries passed and the world outside the ancient ram inn changed A slow, relentless march of time that turned empires to dust and made the ancient new again. But not here. Here, in this forgotten corner of the Codswolds, the ground held onto its secrets, clutching them close beneath layers of earth and stone. That is until 1997, when the slow churn of time was violently interrupted by the clatter of hammers and the groan of floorboards being torn apart. It started as a simple renovation, a facelift for a building that had seen better days. But what the workers unearthed beneath those creaking floorboards was anything but simple Skeletal remains, brittle and pale, lay tangled in the dirt.

Speaker 1: 10:19

Their bones, the last whispers of lives long forgotten. You can almost feel the cold, quiet horror that must have settled over the room like a shroud, as the realization dawned on them they had disturbed something ancient, something that had been at peace for millennia. In that moment, the sanctity of the burial ground was shattered, the thin veil between the past and present torn wide open. For those who believe in the old ways, in the power that lingers in places touched by death, the connection between that disturbance and the surge in paranormal activity that followed is undeniable. These bones, once cradled by the earth, had been exposed. Their rest disturbed, and with that disturbance came the reawakening of energies. Long dormant Spirits that had slept undisturbed for centuries were suddenly yanked back into our world, their unrest growing like a storm, gathering strength At the ancient Ram Inn.

Speaker 1: 11:28

This isn't just a theory. It's a battle between the living and the dead, a place where ancient rituals and modern life collide in the most unsettling of ways. A place where the past isn modern life collide in the most unsettling of ways. A place where the past isn't content to stay out of sight. But was it just the bones that stirred these spirits to life, or is there something deeper, something even darker at play, an ancient force that few have ever truly understood? Perhaps To answer that we need to go back Way, way back to the beginning.

Speaker 1: 12:12

The year was 1145. In those days, the village of Wanton-under-Edge was, like many others, scattered across medieval England, a place where life moved to the rhythm of the seasons and the church cast its long shadow over the daily lives of its people. It was in this year that construction began on St Mary's Church, an ambitious project that would stand as a testament to the faith and dedication of its builders. But churches don't rise from the ground by prayer alone. They require sweat, muscle and the steady hands of skilled masons. To house these workers, a simple building was erected nearby what would one day become the ancient Ram Inn.

Speaker 1: 13:00

There's a lesser-known tale whispered among the locals, one that ties this ancient building to one of the most significant voyages in history the journey of the Mayflower. According to legend, some of the timbers that once held up the roof of the ancient Ram Inn were later used in the construction of the Mayflower, the ship that would carry the pilgrims to, were later used in the construction of the Mayflower, the ship that would carry the pilgrims to the New World in 1620. It's a story that blurs the line between fact and folklore, but whether it's true or not, the thought of those timbers, born from a place steeped in such darkness, becoming part of a vessel that symbolized hope and freedom is a tantalizing paradox. But the builders who laid the first stones of St Mary's Church had no idea of the land's deeper history. They couldn't have known that the ground they had chosen had its own past, one that reached back far beyond the church, to a time when the earth was worshipped as a living entity. To make way for their new edifice, streams that once flowed freely across the property were diverted. A minor inconvenience perhaps to men focused on their holy mission. But to those who understand the ancient ways, the spiritual significance of water cannot be understated. Water is a conduit, a battery, a vessel for spiritual energy, and by redirecting it they may have disturbed something primal, something that had lain dormant for centuries.

Speaker 1: 14:38

When the Masons finished their work on St Mary's, the building that had sheltered them was left behind. But instead of falling into disrepair, it found a new purpose. It became a residence for the priests of the church, a place meant to be a haven of peace and solitude. Yet peace proved elusive. The land beneath them had been altered, its energies disrupted, and there were whispers, even then, that the priests were not alone.

Speaker 1: 15:10

As the years rolled on, the building's purpose shifted like the tides evolving with each new chapter of its long history. What began as a humble residence for priests, men of faith seeking peace and solitude, transformed into an inn, a public house that opened its doors to weary travelers, wary locals and those looking for a refuge from the dangers lurking on the roads. But with this new life came new stories, tales that clung to the walls like shadows, stories of strange occurrences that began to stain the inn's reputation. The ancient Ram Inn, once a sanctuary for the living, now seemed to cradle something else entirely, something that defied the ordinary, something that twisted the air with an uneasy tension. And so the ancient Ram Inn began to gather its legends unto itself, one unsettling tale at a time.

Speaker 1: 17:34

But what was it about this place that seemed to draw the darkness like a moth to the flame? Was it the consequences of disturbing the earth, of redirecting the natural flow of energy? Or was there something more, something deeper at play, a convergence of forces perhaps, that turned this building into a siren song for the supernatural? We've already uncovered how the ancient Ram Inn's history became tangled up with the disturbed ground beneath it, how the diverted streams and unearthed bones released something that refuses to rest. But what if that's just the surface? What if there's something deeper, something older than the stones themselves? Beneath the ancient ram inn lies a force, something invisible yet powerful, a network that has connected sacred sites for millennia, mystical pathways of energy that might just hold the key to understanding the relentless hauntings that have gripped this place for centuries.

Speaker 1: 18:41

Ley lines Straight invisible paths that crisscross the earth, stitching together sacred sites and ancient monuments like a quilt of energy. Some dismiss them as fanciful, the product of an overactive imagination, seeing patterns where there are none, but for others, ley lines are far more they are the veins through which the earth's spiritual energy flows, linking places of power across vast distances. Here's the thing the ancient Ram Inn is believed to sit at the intersection of two of these lines, lines that some say connected directly to Stonehenge and the Great Pyramids. The concept of ley lines is rooted in the beliefs of our ancestors, those who walked this earth long before history had a name. They believed these lines held the power to shape the physical world, that they were charged with energies that could amplify spiritual experiences. Ancient civilizations didn't just stumble upon these sites, they sought them out, building their monuments, temples and burial grounds along these lines, hoping to harness the power flowing beneath their feet. And the ancient Ram Inn, unknowingly or not, was built at a crossroads of the spiritual network, a place already sacred to pagans, who once called this land home.

Speaker 1: 20:11

But ley lines aren't just a European idea. They've appeared in cultures across the globe. In China they're called dragon lines, channels of powerful qi energy that flow through the land. Native American tribes speak of spirit lines guiding the souls of the dead to the afterlife. These ancient beliefs converge on one simple truth the earth is alive, pulsing with energy that can be harnessed, revered or, if you're not careful, disturbed. In the case of the ancient Ram Inn, the convergence of these ley lines is believed to have far-reaching effects.

Speaker 1: 20:55

Those who study the paranormal suggest these lines act as highways for spiritual energy, allowing it to flow freely between sites. This might explain why the inn has become such a magnet for supernatural energy. The energy from the ley lines could be amplifying the presence of spirits. There are theories, some old and some new, that suggest the pagans who first lived on this land didn't stumble upon it by accident. They knew about the ley lines, knew they were sacred and buried their dead along them for a reason they believed these lines connected the physical world with the spiritual realm and by placing their dead along these lines they hoped their spirits would be safely carried into the afterlife, guided by the energy flowing beneath the earth. In recent years, the inn has attracted countless paranormal investigators, drawn by its infamous reputation as one of the most haunted sites in England. Many of these investigators have encountered energy surges, witnessed phenomena that defy conventional understanding and had encounters that challenged the boundaries of reality. They speculate that the ley lines beneath the inn might be amplifying these, acting as conduits for spiritual energy and intensifying the otherworldly experiences within its walls.

Speaker 1: 22:19

And the stories, those unsettling tales from those who spent time in the ancient Ram Inn speak of such strange occurrences Sudden drops in temperature, orbs of light that dance across the rooms and that unmistakable feeling of being watched by something unseen. Some even claim to hear voices, whispers carried on the air that seem to come from nowhere. Could it be these ley lines that anchor the spirits to this place, pulling them back from wherever they rest? Now, before you think I've completely lost my marbles, there's something I need to get off my chest before we continue. Folklore and legend have a way of sinking their claws into a place, holding on tight, refusing to let go, no matter how many years pass by these tales. Well, they're like shadows creeping through time, whispered from one generation to the next, until they're etched into the very bones of the place. Fact and fiction. They're tangled up in a web that's as sticky as it is elusive.

Speaker 1: 23:30

Sure, not every ghostly apparition or twisted bit of history can be pinned down with solid proof. A lot of what we're dealing with here is cloaked in the fog of local lore, shaped by the fears and imaginations of the people who've walked these halls before us. But let's not kid ourselves. Even if just a sliver of these stories are true, the Ancient Ram Inn is no ordinary haunted house. It's a stronghold of the paranormal, and its intensity is something you can't just brush off with a skeptical wave of the hand when you start to peel back the layers, looking at the inn's deep connection to ancient peoples, the sacred ground it's perched on and the bone-chilling discoveries hidden within its walls. Literally, it's not such a stretch to believe that something otherworldly might be at play here.

Speaker 1: 24:26

I'm a believer, no doubt about it, but I'm also a researcher. I've learned not to let myself get completely swept up in the thrill of it all. There's a razor-thin line between belief and blind faith, and as someone who's seen both sides of the coin, it's my job to tread that line carefully. But don't misunderstand me. Whether it's legend, folklore or cold hard fact, whatever label you want to slap on it lore or cold hard fact, whatever label you want to slap on it, there's no denying the weight these stories carry or the darkness that clings to the ancient Ram Inn like a second skin.

Speaker 1: 25:05

Just when you think the story of the ancient Ram Inn has reached its darkest depths, when you're sure that the ancient burial grounds and disturbed energies mark the peak of its ominous past, another shadowy lair emerges. This one drags us back to a time when fear held the land in a death grip, when the ancient ways once respected turned into the stuff of nightmares. It was an era where a mere whisper of witchcraft could seal your fate in the most terrifying and violent of ways. The 1500s, an age soaked in paranoia, where the battle between holiness and darkness played out on a brutal stage. Witch hunts raged across England like a wildfire, fanned by a church and state desperate to crush any remaining ties to the old beliefs. Superstition became a weapon, a blunt tool used to stamp out those who clung to the ancient practices, the rituals that had kept their ancestors in harmony with forces unseen.

Speaker 1: 26:14

One such story takes place right here at the inn, they say a woman accused of witchcraft, sought sanctuary within its walls, but the inn, with all its history and strength, couldn't protect her from the frenzy of the witch hunters. She was dragged from her hiding place and faced the ultimate horror Burned at the stake, condemned as a servant of the devil. That brutal act, born from the very terror the powerful had sown among the people, left a scar on the inn that has never truly healed. But her story didn't end in the flames. In the witch's room, as it's come to be known, it's as if time itself holds its breath, as though the past exists almost simultaneously to the present. Those who step into that room speak of an air that presses down on them, heavy and suffocating, almost as though the walls themselves remember the terror of that day. Some say they've seen her, a ghostly face, pale and filled with sorrow, peering out from the window, an echo of the fear and agony that once consumed her In the witch's room.

Speaker 1: 27:32

History is not a concept you read about. It's something you feel, a weight that bears down on you as relentlessly as the fear that condemned her. So now we have to wonder how much of the Ancient Ram Inn's dark energy rises from the disturbed earth and ley lines below, and how much comes from the souls who met their tragic ends here. But don't think for a second that the Witch's Room is the only place where the past refuses to stay buried. The inn is crawling with restless spirits, each one more unsettling than the last, a swirling vortex of dark energy.

Speaker 1: 28:13

As with any haunted location, not all the echoes of the past are born from malice. In my experience, more often than not they're quite the opposite Sweet, kind, even protective Spirits that are too often misunderstood because we, the living, are too quick to run, too quick to let fear override reason. A faint knock on the wall, a whisper of cold air brushing against your skin these might send most people into a panic. But what if these are desperate attempts to communicate? What if, behind the spectral touch, there's a soul just trying to reach out to relay a message from beyond the veil? To me, it's a heartbreaking thought, the idea that spirits might watch us flee in terror when all they want to do is connect, to be heard, maybe even to protect us from something far worse.

Speaker 1: 29:19

Rosie might be one such spirit. I believe. She's a guardian, a gentle presence that, despite the horrors she faced in life, has chosen to remain within the ancient ram inn, not out of vengeance, but out of a deep, abiding need to be acknowledged, to be understood. Rosie was just a child. Her life cut short and it's said she was murdered within the inn. Another victim claimed by the darkness that has seeped its way into these walls. But unlike the other spirits, rosie doesn't lash out in anger. Her presence is known in the softest of ways.

Speaker 1: 29:57

Guests who have stayed in the attic Rosie's domain, have reported hearing the delicate sound of a child's laughter, a sound that's more sad than sinister, like an echo of the life she should have lived. Some have felt a gentle tug on their clothing, like the small hand of a child reaching out, have felt a gentle tug on their clothing, like the small hand of a child reaching out, trying to make contact. It's in these small gestures, these quiet moments, that Rosie's spirit reveals itself. She doesn't seek to scare, although we may find ourselves scared. She seeks to connect, perhaps even to protect. Imagine the confusion, the loneliness she must feel, trapped in a place where every attempt to reach out is met with fear and misunderstanding. And yet, despite it all, she keeps trying. Rosie's story is a side of dark innocence at the ancient Ram Inn's twisted history. She stands out. She's different, a young girl caught in a nightmare, yet clinging to the hope that someone someday will finally understand her message. I imagine the spirit world is a complex place, where not every entity is out to harm, where the line between protector and attacker isn't always clear.

Speaker 1: 31:22

I guess the next time you hear the sound of a child's laughter in an abandoned attic or feel a soft tug on your sleeve, maybe remember Rosie. She's not necessarily here to scare you. She's here to remind you that not all spirits are malevolent. Some are just lost souls still searching for a connection, still hoping to be seen. But she isn't alone in the attic.

Speaker 1: 31:52

There's another presence here too, one that's far more tragic, far more haunting. This presence isn't tied to innocence, like Rosie, but to the unbearable weight of betrayal and sorrow. It's the spirit of the former owner's daughter whose life ended here in this space and whose pain hangs in the air like a thick fog suffocating everything it touches, a pain that stands in stark contrast to Rosie's gentle attempts at connection. The story here goes that this woman, the daughter of a man who once owned the inn, met her end in the attic, hanged by her own father in an act of unimaginable cruelty. Her spirit, they say, still lingers here in the attic, where the very air feels heavy with an overwhelming sense of melancholy.

Speaker 1: 32:49

Those brave or foolish enough to venture up here often speak of an unbearable sadness, a darkness that seems to seep into your bones, as though the walls themselves remember the exact moment when life was snuffed out by a hand that should have been there to protect. It's a strange, powerful thing, the way two such different energies can occupy the same space. On one side there's Rosie, a child, lost but unbroken, still reaching out with a spirit untouched by the darkness around her, and on the other, the former owner's daughter, a soul weighed down by betrayal, burdened with a sorrow so deep it's almost tangible. To stand in this attic is to feel the clash of these energies, one perhaps light and one perhaps more dark, both trapped in a place that has seen far too much pain. It's so intriguing to me how such opposing forces can coexist within the same four walls, each one telling a different story echoing through time. Perhaps it's this clash that makes the attic such a potent place, a space where the full spectrum of human emotions collide at the same moment, where innocence, fear, betrayal and sorrow are all simultaneously intertwined with the energies of those who remain.

Speaker 1: 34:21

Much like the former owner's daughter, there's another one whose presence is marked by bone-chilling sorrow. They call her Elizabeth. Where other spirits might lash out in anger, elizabeth seems to drift through the inn with a sadness that's as heavy as the air on a stormy day. Her presence is quieter, more mournful, as though she carries with her the weight of a tragedy that time has long since forgotten. She's often seen as a shadowy figure gliding silently through the hallways. Her form barely visible, but her sorrow, a feeling deep in your chest, an ache that lingers even long after she's gone.

Speaker 1: 35:10

Elizabeth is believed to have been a guest or resident of the inn, a woman slain, though the details of her death have been swallowed by the shadows of time. Those who have glimpsed her describe her as a figure dressed in old-fashioned clothing, her face etched with a despair that seems to reach across centuries. Her face etched with a despair that seems to reach across centuries. She's most commonly spotted near the stairs or in the darkened corridors where she wanders endlessly, as if searching for something or someone, perhaps lost to her forever. Some claim to have heard her soft sobs, a sound so heart-wrenching that it sticks with you, haunting your thoughts, long after it's faded into silence. Unlike the more malevolent spirits that haunt these halls, elizabeth doesn't seem to want to frighten those who encounter her. Instead, she appears to be trapped in a sort of loop of grief, a figure forever mourning in the place where her life was snuffed out too soon.

Speaker 1: 37:15

But as with any haunted place, not all spirits neatly fall into categories of benevolent or malevolent. Some straddle the line, their true intentions lost in a veil of ambiguity. Among the spirits said to roam the ancient Ram Inn is one that embodies this uncertainty A young boy whose laughter echoes through the halls but whose presence may be far from purely innocent. Visitors have reported encounters with this boy, often in the dead of night, when the inn is at its most still, when the air seems to hold its breath. At first his presence might seem harmless childish giggles, the faint patter of small feet. But those who have experienced it describe an unsettling undertone, a creeping dread that seeps in as the laughter fades. There's something off about this child, something that doesn't quite fit with the image of a playful spirit. Some say his laughter carries a trace of malice, a darkness perhaps lurking just beneath the surface. There are stories of guests feeling a sudden unexplainable chill, followed by the unnerving sensation of being watched. And then, in the corner of their vision, they might just catch a glimpse A small figure standing there, silent and unmoving, his eyes too old, too knowing for a child. Those who've seen him up close speak of his appearance as almost demonic, and an unsettling gaze that lingers unafraid to make eye contact. Whether this boy is a product of the dark rituals rumored to have been conducted within the inn, or something far older, far more sinister, remains a mystery, a mystery that haunts those who dare to stay here as you descend from the attic, leaving behind the whispers of Rosie and the shadowed presence of the former owner's daughter.

Speaker 1: 39:38

The ancient Ram Inn, believe it or not, has more to reveal, much, much more. There's another room here, one that has left even the bravest souls shaken to their core. The bishop's room, once intended as a sanctuary for visiting clergy, has now become the epicenter of the inn's most potent apparitions. Over the centuries, this room has earned an incredible reputation, boasting as many as nine different spirits, at least the ones that we have names for, each more unnerving than the last. In its earliest days, the bishop's room was a place of refuge, a space where the holy men of the church could rest and reflect, but as the years turned, this room became something else entirely, a focal point for the inn's darkest energies, a place where the sacred and the profane collide in the most disturbing of ways. John Humphreys, the inn's last long-term owner, knew the bishop's room was no ordinary space and he treated it with a special kind of caution, always knocking three times on the door with his crooked walking stick before daring to enter, as anyone there he would call out. Sometimes they would be nothing but the cold still air, but other times the walls would seem to answer back, reverberating with knocks in echo from the other side, as if something was acknowledging his presence, a silent confirmation that he was not alone and perhaps that he was not welcome.

Speaker 1: 41:26

The stories that swirl around the bishop's room are as dark as they come. Dark, spectral monks, their faces hidden beneath massive deep hoods, have been seen gliding through the room, their forms flickering like shadows against the walls. But they're not the only ones. But they're not the only ones. Visitors have described a form of deep, dark, machiavellian high priestess, a spirit tied perhaps to the inn's history of witchcraft, and she has also been spotted here. Her presence, when she appears, creates the sensation of instant suffocation, the air becoming thick with the remnants of ancient forbidden rites, violent and angry. Those who've encountered her speak of a dread so deep. It's as if they've stepped into a place they were never meant to be, or perhaps that no human ever ever was, a space separate from time, where the old ways still hold sway and your life perhaps has been found wanting.

Speaker 1: 42:37

But according to some records, the most unnerving of all, at least to some visitors, is the Roman centurion. Witnesses have described in terror the sight of seeing this spectral soldier on horseback charging through the walls of the bishop's room. His apparition is sudden, fierce, as though he's still on some ancient mission, trapped in an endless loop that forces him to relive his final moments over and over again. For some reason, to me I think this apparition might be so startling I might even find it funny, but I suppose the shock of it all might make anyone pause in fear. But what is it about this room that draws such dark spirits? Perhaps it's in mockery of the religious sanctity that bishops once represented and still do in many ways, a cruel twist of fate for a room meant to be a sanctuary, or perhaps it's something deeper, a portal of sorts, where the energies of the past converge and are amplified, creating a vortex that pulls in the restless dead. Whatever the reason, the bishop's room is a place where fear seems to take shape, reflecting back at us in forms that seem almost inspired from our deepest, darkest nightmares.

Speaker 1: 43:59

The inn is a place where silence can be more terrifying than any sound, at least until that silence is shattered by the most chilling noise of all the scream of a man in agony. Visitors and investigators alike have reported hearing this blood-curdling scream echo through the inn late at night, a sound so visceral, so raw, that it stops them dead in their tracks, paralyzed with fear. It might sound strange to describe, but the disembodied scream doesn't seem to hang on air the way we might anticipate. It seems to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once, reverberating through the ancient timbers themselves, like a ghostly wail from the very heart of the building. Ancient timbers themselves like a ghostly wail from the very heart of the building. Some speculate that the scream belongs to a man who met a gruesome end within these walls, much like others, his final moments of pain and terror imprinted onto the very fabric of the structure, echoing from time to time like a record. Others believe it's something even more unsettling, perhaps a manifestation of the negative energy that has seeped into the inn over the centuries, a cry of anguish from the countless spirits trapped within their agony, so intense that it pierces through the veil between our worlds. But there's something even darker still, a force that doesn't just haunt you but hunts you.

Speaker 1: 45:33

Meet the Incubus, a demon born from the deepest recesses of ancient nightmares, an entity that takes your darkest fears and twists them into a horrifying reality. The Incubus is not a figment of folklore, at least not in my experience. It's real. It's a terror that has been etched into the nightmares of cultures around the world for millennia. Typically depicted as a malevolent male entity, the Incubus is said to prey on the sleeping, especially women, inducing nightmares so vivid and terrifying that they blur the line between dream and reality. According to ancient beliefs, this demon would do more than just haunt your dreams it would violate you in the most personal, terrifying way imaginable. The very word incubus comes from the Latin incubare, meaning to lie upon, perfectly capturing the horror of those who have encountered it, the crushing sensation of being pinned down, unable to move, as if something dark and oppressive is pressing down on your chest. I fear anyone who's ever had dark entities in their home as a child perhaps might be relating to what I'm describing in a terrifying way. While folklore often describes the Incubus as a demon preying upon the vulnerable, it has also been depicted with specific, terrifying physical traits and for those who, as I mentioned, might be relating to this, use caution if you want to hear me describe this, for fear of bringing back deep, unsettling memories.

Speaker 1: 47:23

Imagine a human-like form, but with twisted features, shadowy skin, cold as death, with an aura of pure malice emanating from it. Its eyes, often seen glowing with an unnatural light, pierce the darkness with a gaze that paralyzes its victims instantly, filling them with a dread so intense it seems that their very soul is being torn apart, their brain no longer in control of their physical body. Some accounts describe the incubus with bat-like wings, leathery, ominous, spreading out like a blanket to cover its prey as it exerts its terrifying power. Others speak of sharp claws or talons, deadly and capable of inflicting real harm as the creature pins its victims down. At the ancient Ram Inn, witnesses have reported feeling the oppressive weight of the incubus pressing on their chest, but sightings in its full form are rare. Perhaps this only adds to the terror, knowing it's there lurking in the dark but never fully seeing it.

Speaker 1: 48:40

The origins of the incubus can be traced back to ancient Mesopotamian mythology, where demons like Lilu and Lilitu were believed to stalk and seduce people during the night. These early conceptions of the incubus were later woven into the mythologies of the Greek and Romans, but it was during the European Middle Ages that the incubus became firmly entrenched in Christian demonology. The church seized upon the figure of the incubus, using it as a terrifying cautionary tale, a warning about the dangers of lust and the vulnerability of the human soul to demonic influence during sleep. In medieval Europe, the incubus became a go-to explanation for a host of inexplicable phenomenon which I suppose over the years has caused many to think that it's not real at all. These phenomena ranged from sleep paralysis to nocturnal emissions and other conditions that baffled the people of the time. The incubus was said to visit its victims at night, lying upon them and sometimes even attempting to father children with them, as in the legend of Merlin, who was believed to be an offspring of an incubus with a human woman. The fear of this demon was so pervasive that women would often accuse the incubus of assault when no other explanation could be found, reflecting this deep-seated fear of demonic influence that haunted the medieval mind.

Speaker 1: 50:14

At the Ancient Ram Inn, though, the Incubus was not a legend. It was a living nightmare. John Humphreys, the owner, spoke of his own terrifying encounters with this entity. Humphreys claimed that the incubus would visit him in the night, holding him down with a force that he described as almost unbearable. It wasn't just a haunting, it was an assault, a direct and physical manifestation of evil. His experiences became so frequent and intense that he believed the incubus was feeding off his fear, growing stronger with each encounter. Other guests, too, have reported similar experiences, waking in the dead of the night to find themselves paralyzed, unable to move as the incubus exerted its dreadful power to move as the incubus exerted its dreadful power. Some have reported being physically touched by the incubus, an experience so horrifying that it drove them to flee the inn, sometimes even leaping from the windows in a desperate attempt to escape. The impact of the incubus was so profound that it's believed by some to be one of the reasons the inn was eventually closed as a bed and breakfast, by some to be one of the reasons, the inn was eventually closed as a bed and breakfast. The demon's presence made it impossible for guests to feel safe, as reports of its attacks spread fear among all who visited. It's said that John Humphreys himself was never free from the incubus, sharing his bedroom with this terrifying entity, until the day he died.

Speaker 1: 51:48

But where there's an incubus, you'll often find its sinister counterpart, a succubus, a female demon with intentions just as malevolent, if not more so. The succubus, like her male counterpart, has roots that reach deep into ancient lore too, her shadowy figure appearing in myths and legends of countless cultures. Traditionally, the succubus is said to seduce men as they sleep, draining their life force until they're left weak or, worse, dead. These demons often take the form of beautiful women, but their allure is a deadly trap. Look closer and you'll see the signs Sharp claws, serpentine eyes and an aura of danger that clings to them too. The succubus embodies the ancient fear of female sexuality, a fear that has haunted the male imagination for centuries, turning desire into something twisted, something that walks the razor's edge between ecstasy and destruction. In medieval Christian demonology, the succubus was the symbol of temptation, a manifestation of the sins of lust and sexual excess. The church was quick to exploit this fear, using it as a weapon to instill guilt and shame. The dread of the succubus became so widespread that it was blamed for everything from unexplained illnesses to infertility and even death.

Speaker 1: 53:26

Reports of a succubus at the ancient Ram Inn are less common than those of the incubus, but they're no less terrifying. Men who've stayed at the inn tell of waking in the dead of the night to find a shadowy figure looming over them, a woman with an otherworldly beauty that quickly morphs into horror as she reveals her true nature. They speak of being paralyzed, unable to move or cry out, as the succubus presses down on their chest, stealing their breath and leaving them drained of energy. Some have even fled in the middle of the night, hearts pounding with fear, convinced that they had narrowly escaped death. But what kind of man would willingly endure such torment?

Speaker 1: 54:12

In 1968, the ancient Ram Inn teetered on the edge of oblivion. This historic building, which had stood sentinel for over 800 years, was slated for destruction. But then John Humphreys stepped in. He couldn't bear the thought of this ancient structure being lost to time, so he bought it, determined to preserve it. But what he didn't know was that he wasn't just buying a piece of history he was buying into a lifetime of encounters with the supernatural. From the very first night the inn made its presence known. He was violently dragged from his bed by an unseen force, setting the tone for the years that would follow.

Speaker 1: 54:57

Yet despite the terror, he never wavered in his commitment to the inn. To him, preserving the building was more than just an act of historical conservation. It was a way of honoring the countless lives that had passed through its doors, even if those lives continued to make themselves known to him in ways that were anything but peaceful. But dedication like this comes at a price. Humphrey's family couldn't endure the constant barrage of paranormal activity. His wife and daughters eventually left, driven away by the malevolent forces that seemed to target them relentlessly. But John stayed behind, resolute in his mission, even as he became the inn's sole resident. The isolation, combined with the ever-present supernatural disturbances, only deepened his connection to the inn and to its dark, hidden secrets.

Speaker 1: 55:58

As John dug deeper into the inn's history, he uncovered evidence that would cement its reputation as a place of darkness and foster the legends that would follow During one of his many renovations. The story goes that he discovered the skeletal remains of children entombed within its walls victims, it's believed, of an ancient ritual sacrifice. The presence of broken daggers among the bones suggested these children were part of some long-forgotten rite, possibly linked to the inn's alleged history of witchcraft. But the story continues that it wasn't just human remains that Humphreys found. In another part of the inn he uncovered the remains of what appeared to be animals sacrificed to in ancient rituals Cats Mummified. These remains and daggers suggested that the inn had been the site of pagan ceremonies long before it became a place of refuge or torment for the living. In ancient times it wasn't uncommon to place animals within the walls of a building as a kind of good luck charm, a way to protect the inhabitants from evil spirits. But this particular cat, long dead and mummified, may have had its own unfinished business, as some say that the spirit of a black cat haunts the very room where its mummified body was found. These discoveries they suggest that the rituals performed here, whether for protection or darker purposes, left a lasting imprint on the building. For nearly five decades Humphreys lived among these spirits, never once considering abandoning the inn. He often said he felt a duty to protect it and its history, no matter the cost. To protect it and its history, no matter the cost. Even as the paranormal activity escalated, with reports of visitors being attacked and poltergeists wreaking havoc, humphreys remained a guardian of the inn's secrets until the very end.

Speaker 1: 58:02

John Humphreys passed away in 2017, still the owner and sole occupant of the ancient Ram Inn. He died in the place he had dedicated his life to saving, surrounded by the spirits that had both tormented and defined his existence. So, in the end, what do we take away from a place like the ancient Ram Inn? Is it just another ghost story, a collection of eerie tales and unexplainable phenomena that we can shrug off as legend or fiction, or is it something more? John Humphreys, now, there was a man who faced what most of us would flee from. For nearly 50 years, he lived in the belly of that beast, surrounded by entities that would send anyone else running for the hills, but he didn't run. He stayed. He faced the darkness head on, day after day, night after night, and in doing so, he became part of the very history he sought to preserve. A man haunted not just by the spirits of the past, but by the weight of knowing that some things are beyond explanation, beyond understanding.

Speaker 1: 59:23

The past isn't just some memory.

Speaker 1: 59:26

It lingers, it echoes and sometimes it refuses to let go.

Speaker 1: 59:33

The energy we leave behind doesn't simply disappear.

Speaker 1: 59:38

It's there, imprinted on the places we've been, on the people we've touched, the lives we've intersected.

Speaker 1: 59:47

And sometimes that energy is strong enough, determined enough to reach across time, demanding to be acknowledged.

Speaker 1: 59:58

I think we like to think of ourselves as separate from the past, living in the now, cut off from what came before, but the truth is we're all connected by these spaces we inhabit, by the memories we share, by the fears and hopes that bind us together in this fragile thing we call life. Maybe the ancient Ram Inn is a reminder of that connection, that we're not alone, that the energies of those who came before still resonates, still shapes the world we live in. What are the places in your own life where this past still endures? The spaces that feel heavy with memory, the moments that seem to echo with something more? What energy have you left behind? And what will you carry with you when you leave? Because, in the end, maybe the real phantoms aren't the spirits that we fear, but the realization that we too are leaving something behind. The lines between our worlds and the next are far blurrier than we'd like to admit, and maybe, perhaps that's the most haunting truth of all. Thank you, you.