He always came in the rain.

I say, he, but I don’t know, maybe it was a she? No one ever got close enough to tell, or maybe they did and didn’t live to tell the tale?

This is the problem, there is so much, myth and rumour around the appearance and disappearance of this figure that I just can’t tell what is story and what is fact.

What I can say is fact, is my own sighting of this man. It was grey and wet day, it had been raining all day. It was the sort of day that felt like it would summon this strange figure from wherever he came from. I headed out to the place he had almost always been seen, the site of an old church and of course its graveyard.

I’d visited many times before, but had seen nothing to make me believe the stories, until that evening.

There was no one around, why would there be anyone out on an evening like this?

I stayed under the cover of tree on the opposite side of the road from the old church. The tree offered a bit of cover from the constant rain. There was much better cover in the church it’s self, but I didn’t want to stand there. Silly, I told my self, I didn’t believe the stories, so instead I told my self that I didn’t like the look of the stonework in the old church. Yes it was weathered, worn and covered in ivy, but it would probably outlast me. Still I decided this was the reason for not entering that graveyard.

So I watched in the cold rain, with the light fading.

The minutes passed slowly, with every drop of rain seeming to find a way through my waterproofs.

Why was I wasting my time here? I asked my self.

I decided that was it, I was going to go home but then I saw a movement from under one of the trees just inside the low walled yard.

I froze. I’d not seen anyone walk past in minutes, yet it looked like someone was standing there.

Yes, there was a figure, dressed in a rain coat, very like my own, with an umbrella. He moved out of the shadows. He walked with a slow, uncomfortable looking limp.

It was just a man, someone I’d not noticed approach, he’d been taking cover under a tree, just me like.

I wasn’t convinced, I’d have seen him arrive, i]he wasn’t moving quickly. And why would he shelter under a tree if he had an umbrella?

I could fell my heart pounding hard.

It was just a story, it this a graveyard, today was Halloween, it was just my own imagination coming up with this fear.

The man stoped. I held my breath.

He turned his head to face me. I saw glints of light were eyes should be. I saw smooth, wet bone that should have been covered in skin.

He nodded, he had seen me.

It felt the chill of the grave wash over me.

He turned away from me and limped on in to the shadow cast by the next tree and was gone.

I know he wasn’t there any more long before I saw he wasn’t. But I waited until I was very sure the figure no longer was under that tree.

Then I ran.