Monday, October 19, 2009

Scotland is Spooky, too


ADVENTURE AT HOLLYROOD PALACE, EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND

The following true story came from author, Foery K. MacDonell, Author of Laird of the Mist and The Fool's Journey. You can read more about Foery here.

Onward to Scotland for a shiver or two:

In September of 2005, I decided to return to Edinburgh. This time, I took my son, Jameson with me. Both Jameson and I are very psychic and have seen ghosts, and more, all of our lives. We were not afraid of them. Especially me, who had often been called upon to cleanse homes or locations and send them on their way to the other side. Ghosts can not physically harm you, but they can scare the hell out of people.

We had had a lovely morning on the Royal Mile—Jameson having a psychic reading by one of Edinburgh’s top psychics. My appointment with the psychic was scheduled in two hours time, so we decided to spend that interval touring Hollyrood Palace. Hollyrood, located at the foot of the Royal Mile, has been the Royal residence of the Kings and Queens of Scotland since the 15th century. Prior to that, it had served as a monastery.

We toured the lovely and ancient ground floors – the throne room, dining areas, and galleries. We were then led upstairs to Mary, Queen of Scots’ chambers.

As we stepped into the room, I was struck by how small the bedroom was. A Queen, I thought, should have had an enormous bedroom, shouldn’t she? Off to one side was a tiny room where the Queen’s secretary, David Rizzio, had spent his time working. To the other side was an open door with a spiral staircase that led downstairs into the King’s bedroom.

As I looked toward the bed, encased in a glass enclosure, I was suddenly disoriented and my vision blurred badly. (I had excellent vision at the time). I felt as though I was stepping outside of my body. I had to fight hard to throw oft the strange sensations.

The tour guide began leading people toward the open door of the spiral staircase so that they could continue into the King’s bedroom.

Jameson and I looked at each other. His face was pale and he appeared shaken.

“Are you all right?” I asked him.

“No,” he said in a low tone. “There is something really terrible in here. Can we leave?”

I felt the same urgency to leave, so I grabbed his arm and turned him toward the door through which we had entered – away from the group.

“Let’s go,” I said firmly. I had felt the worst evil in that room I had ever experienced and I suspected he was feeling it, too.

We walked out of the room and addressed a guard who was standing outside the room.

“Is there another way we can leave, please?” I asked, trying to sound calm. “We just can’t go down that staircase. There is something terrible in that room.” I am never shy about telling people what is going on. I always end up finding out that they have had their own experiences with the supernatural.

“Of course,” she replied. “Just come over here and go down those stairs.” She unhooked a red velvet rope that blocked a normal, well-lit staircase. “Those stairs will take you right out to the courtyard,” she said.]

We didn’t think twice, but thanked her profusely and fled down the stairs.

Once in the bright sun outside, we sat down at a table and compared notes. We had both felt an evil energy in that room. Yes, it had been the room in which David Rizzio had been stabbed to death by several Lairds put up to the murder by Mary’s husband. They had murdered Rizzio in front of the pregnant Queen. But that was not the energy we were felling.

The energy we felt was ancient and had been there from time immemorial. We both had the strong impression that it had been influencing the behavior and politics of inhabitants of the castle for hundreds of years.

We were nauseated, light-headed, and disturbed. We felt as though we had come face-to-face with something powerfully demonic. It took about an hour to collect ourselves and go on with our day.

The last time I was in Scotland, I sat in the courtyard sipping a latté while Kevin toured Hollyrood alone. Mary’s bedroom was no longer on the tour. “Closed for renovation,” they told him. I should think so!

When I return in two weeks, I will not enter that Palace. Never again!

As a side note, we had so many paranormal experiences there that it prompted Jameson to answer when asked how it was, "The whole damned country is haunted!"

No comments:

Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews

Manic Readers

Manic Readers

She Writes

Historical Fiction Books

Readers and Writers of Distinctive Fiction