Down There...

In the dungeons there is was a soldier, now a ghostly figure...

I was kindly reminded of this true story that happened when one day my friends and I visited Deal Castle in South-East Kent. They walked on ahead in a deep murky dark tunnel and I tagged behind, taking my time as usual.

In the meantime the low scum I call my friends decided to give their friend something to take home with her: The fright of my life. All three charged around the corner ahead and the sound of six feet slapping like horse hooves on cold wet stone echoed ferociously with the force of an army upon itself.

It’s quite natural that I freaked out:

“HE-HIRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH-hhh-hh.......*&^%$!!!”

The sound that came out was however a couple of notches higher than usual. I wonder if they have performed such a death challenging deed had they known what had just happened prior to their mischief?

Amidst the wonder of 16th century castles someone or something had decided to get a grip on my hair. Yip, that’s right. It gave my hair a very HARD tuck and not letting go immediately either. I can’t think a bat could have had the terrible sense of getting muddled in my silky clean hair and neither had I been trying out acrobats hanging on poles or near any mucky walls. I know I was very alone down in that dungeon or whatever it is called.

And this was when my friends-of-combat decided to startle the life out of me even more...

It’s been known ever since that this chick must be radiating a certain charm to C 16th soldiers who are doing what soldiers do.

Kind of makes me feel rather flattered – but only if it was a man soldier. Must get utterly and profusely boring down there...