Saturday, November 18, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.322: Unquiet Graves



There are any number of disturbed graves in the hillside cemetary on Harlow Hill, the headstones of which have been subject to erosion and erasure, and thus rendered unreadable. 

Though nameless, the inhabitants of these cold and unwelcoming domiciles have not, it seems, always remained convinced of their deceased status - preferring instead (as has recently occured in relation to the prior occupant of the sepulchre shown above) to shuffle about the Horsingdon landscape, evidently with the intention of frightening the region's populace out of its wits. 

Whatever force or agency might be compelling these awful resurrections remains unknown  - as does any meaningful rationale informing these otherwise horrifying and seemingly mindless intrusions into the everyday lives of Horsingdon folk. Perhaps therein lies the truth of the matter: that there is no meaning or intention to be uncovered; that perhaps we inhabit a universe whose troublingly-inscrutable yet asinine disposition leads it to inflict unspeakable horror upon us for its own sake.

Friday, November 17, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.321: Spiritual Communion


Not the permanently veiled Miryam Boreham (of whom only one photograph is known to exist), but James Boreham - bedecked in ritual garb in preparation for a seance. Here Boreham is wearing a 'T'-shaped amulet, possibly in accordance with the obscure ceremonial requirements, established by the guardians of the Black Bowers, for rites involving communion with Those Who Wait (as well as other, less nameable, inhabitants of the Outside). One might, therefore, feel justified in speculating on the exact nature of who - or what - Boreham was preparing to enter into spiritual communication with on this particular occasion...

Thursday, November 16, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.320: Red Shift



A cluster of red-litten ghostlights photographed hovering above the northeast face of Horsingdon Hill - moments before they are lost to the depths of space in a sudden, coruscating blur of movement, leaving only a spectral redshift haze in their wake.

Any attempt to elicit meaning from these intrusions into our world is to either court madness, or to provoke a transition into an inhuman mode of being as the only possible means of encompassing such knowledge. As a consequence, the good folk of Horsingdon prefer to let such things alone.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.319: Puppetry and Shadowplay



The grimy windows of this Ministry building on the outskirts of Trentford give the impression of its having been long abandoned; along with the boarded and padlocked entrance, and the many 'No Entry' signs plastered about its lower facade, one could be forgiven for assuming as much.

However, on the eve of certain festivals, crooked, shadowy shapes have been witnessed through the dirt-encrusted windows of the building's upper storeys; often these phantoms are described as moving awkwardly through its dilapidated environs, as if engaged in a some ungainly but highly-ritualised dance - like some darkly spectral projection from another world on to this of an unearthly puppetry: alien marionettes cavorting woodenly to the fitful manipulations and string-pulling of an equally-inscrutable but mindless puppet master.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.318: Monolithic Magicks


A blocky concrete monolith, clearly of modern design, stands just inside barbed-wire fencing surrounding a Ministry of Defence site which the Ebury Way edges past just outside of Trentford. Other similar monoliths – some of which appear to be marked with curious sigils – are positioned within the area circumscribed by the barbed-wire fence such as to create a curious geometric pattern – one which those versed in certain esoteric traditions might associate with a fearful body of myth supposedly of prehuman provenance. The monoliths surround a squat, windowless bunker with a single, reinforced steel door, from which emanates the continuous low hum of whatever strange energies are contained within.

Monday, November 13, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.317: Fearless Vampire Killer


This is the only known photograph of Gareth Lester - Horsingdon's one and only self-styled vampire hunter who, in the early 1970s, was convinced that a blood-drinking entity was haunting the cemetary of St. Osmund's Church on Southcote Lane, having made its lair in some ancient crypt beneath the otherwise-deserted place of worship.

The above image was taken in the grounds of St. Osmund's - shortly after the Church of Starry Wisdom had vacated the premises, and on the eve of Lester's final (one might say terminal) vigil at that place: whatever Gareth Lester did happen to encounter within the grounds of the church on that fateful night, it was presumably resistant to both stake and cross - for in the morning, no sign was to be found of this fearless vampire killer, and he has neither been seen or heard from since.


Sunday, November 12, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.316: Strange Irradiations



Strange light smoulders from behind a blanket of grey cloud covering the Horsingdon firmament, from whence two glowing orbs of unknown origin irradiate the region's skyline with their eerie iridescence. No doubt the morning will be greeted in one or more households with the shocked revelation of an unaccountable disappearance, or a favourite pet found in a state of horrible mutilation, or worse: a family member discovered in the midst of some monstrous transformation.

Saturday, November 11, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.315: Nightgaunt



Horsingdon Wood intrudes threateningly upon the calm and desolate familiarity of a local supermarket's car park. Something caught in the trees, which is buffetted in the wind a liked a ragged and wingless Nightgaunt, marks the boundary between pedestrian suburbaneity and the monstrous darkness which ceaselessly encroaches upon the commonplace from some absolute elsewhere.

Friday, November 10, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions 314: The Edge of the Woods


One of a number of images drawn by a group of school children who, during an outing to Horsingdon Hill in the early 1970s, claimed to observe this strange entity lurking at the edge of Horsingdon Woods. None of the teachers accompanying the children saw the curious being, and there has been no other recorded sightings since.

Thursday, November 09, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.313: Eschatological Calculus


A bank of equipment along one of the many abandoned corridors of Horsingdon Bunker, haunted by the ghosts of the past - or perhaps by the speculative phantoms of an incomprehensible and horrifying future. Despite having been disconnected from the installation's generators for at least two decades, the machinery sometimes thrums suddenly and unexpectedly to life at seemingly random moments, briefly churning out strange equations: numeric strings which, if they ever proved to be calculable by any human system of mathematics, might foreshadow the world's ending.


Wednesday, November 08, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.312: A Field in Horsingdon


Despite its quaint nomenclature, Coronation Meadow - which stands at the foot of Horsingdon Hill - is largely avoided by locals. Surprisingly, there have been no reports here of inexplicable disappearances, monstrous manifestations, praeternatural aerial phenomenon or, indeed, any of the other uncanny events which seem typical of many other of the strange sites about the region. The meadow is, however, marked by a curious quality of stillness and quiesence which, to many, feels...unnatural: it is as if the meadow exists within an interstitial space or some zone which positions itself as being not entirely a part of this world.

Then there is the sense a of forboding expectation which lurks about the place: that, whilst Coronation Meadow has thusfar remained free of any tumultuous manifestation of strange occurances, this is only in anticipation of some future event - one more monstrous and more terrible than any before witnessed in the borough.

Tuesday, November 07, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.311: Stranger Skies


A nebulous shape appears above the ruins of Boreham Mansion a scant few days after a humanoid form was seen hovering over the same location. Alien and inexplicable influences have long clustered about those places touched by the Boreham family - influences which also extend their anomalous effects to the firmament above Horsingdon, producing skies full of strangeness.

Monday, November 06, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions 310: The Endless Corridor


A photograph of one of the lower levels of Horsingdon Bunker, taken during my field report there back in September of this year. At the time, the guardians of the Black Bowers who granted me access to part of the installation forbade me from investigating further into this section. One of their number informed me that, in the destructive aftermath of whatever event led to the Bunker's closure, the corridor shown here -  previously an ordinary access tunnel leading to a storeroom - was found to have undergone an incredible and unfathomable transformation: it had become endless, stretching off into the darkness forever.

Apparently three teams, consisting of the some of the installations remaining scientific and military personnel were sent into the corridor to investigate this baffling anomaly, whose warping of the very fabric of reality called into question everything that was known at the time regarding the fundamental laws of physics. Radio contact was lost with each of the teams within a few hours of their entry into the corridor. Not a single person who was dispatched to investigate the seemingly-infinite passageway ever returned from their foray into...the absolute elsewhere.

Sunday, November 05, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.309: Outpost


In a wooded area along the Ebury Way, what is thought to be an outpost of Horsingdon Bunker, linked to the main complex by an extensive system of access tunnels. Locals avoid the area, claiming that on the nights of certain festivals, an unearthly howling can be heard emanating from the installation below.

Saturday, November 04, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.308: Ascended Master


This blurry, human-like figure was photographed hovering over Boreham Park earlier today - apparently it was seen to rise slowly into the air from behind the trees, pausing for a few moments (as if to survey the region from on high) before disappearing into the stratosphere and, for all anyone knowns, from there into the abysmal depths of space. Notably, the remains of Boreham Mansion are located  area of the park from which this strange figure appears to have ascended.

James Boreham's grandfather, Eliphas Boreham, is rumoured to have been interred in a lead-lined sarcophagus, inscribed with arcane symbols, in one of the crypts beneath the mansion. Eliphas Boreham is also rumoured to have been an extremely powerful sorcerer - one who was responsible for inducting his grandson into the occult secrets of the Outer Spheres. It is also said that Eliphas had  mastered the alien algorithms of transcendance which he was unable to effect before the death (which supposedly occured at the hands of his grandson, to whom he refused to reveal these final, ultimate secrets of ineffable transmutation) of his corporeal form.

Friday, November 03, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.307: Encroaching Darkness



The are some parts of Horsingdon Woods which seem more tenebrous than others - especially at this time of the year. There are pathways through the woods which thus become far less inviting, and which even the most powerful of torchlights fail to illuminate. That might be just as well for, as local residents are found of recounting, one might otherwise discover within the darkness shapes which are not pleasing to the human eye.

Thursday, November 02, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.306: Dark Portals


The older parts of Harlow Hill are dotted with quaint gaslit archways, nooks and tunnels - a number of which lay claim to uniquely haunted histories. The archway shown in the bottom half of the above image once lead down a series of squat steps to the entrance of a cellar -  which was long ago bricked up on account of what a previous owner of the property once encountered there.

Other such shadowed portals have been the site of manifestations stranger still: weird glowing lights; pale faceless figures reaching out from the darkness; the resonant echo of inhuman whispers relaying monstrous secrets. Needless to say, the older parts of Harlow Hill are best avoid if one finds oneself alone in the area after nightfall.

Wednesday, November 01, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.305: Hollow Hills



Another entrance to the subterranean access tunnels serving the uncompleted reservoir beneath Horsingdon Hill has recently been revealed. Why anyone would seek to gain ingress to the tunnel system remains unclear. The likely alternative - that something else has sought egress from below the Hill - is one which, for local residents, does not bear contemplation. 

Even so, in the weeks to come, the inhabitants of the area will undoubtedly ensure that they are safely indoors well before nightfall - although this is unlikely to prevent the mysterious disappearances which will inevitably follow in the wake of the discover of an opening to the hollow spaces beneath Horsingdon Hill.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.304: A Boreham Family Hallowe'en


A rare and unsettling photograph of James Boreham's wife Miriam, and children Edward and Judith  - dated October 31st 1892. Of note is the goatish visage of Edward, hinting at praeternatural parentage, as well as the face of Boreham's baby daughter, Judith - here already looking indistinct and vague, as if fading from view. In any case, this was the very last day Judith Boreham was seen in unveiled in public.

This above image depicts the only known, extant version of the photograph - one which appears To have been purposely cropped, with the intimation of additional figure to Miriam's left. This has led to speculation that there there may have been another Boreham child (despite there being no record of such) included in the original photograph: a sibling to Edward and Judith whose appearance was, perhaps, too disconcerting to be shown outside of the confines of this strange and closely-knit family.

Monday, October 30, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.303: The Lights Below


The surface topography of Horsingdon is underwritten by another, secret, subterranean realm: a warren of tunnels both natural and artificial constitute the hidden arteries of the region - channels through which course deep currents of folk memory, and even deeper, more ancient flows of primordial myth left in the aftermath of those monstrous Powers which stalked the land long before the coming of humanity. 

Of those Powers, some element yet remains, haunting these chthonic zones in multifarious, nameless forms - but always with luminous eyes which shine like beacons in the darkness.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.302: A Hole in the Ground


A damaged manhole cover on the side of Horsingdon Hill. There are a few such covers - mostly rusted and overgrown now - upon and around the Hill. They lead to tunnels accessing what was meant to be a reservoir providing fresh water for the region: one tapping into an artesian well located below naturally-occuring caverns beneath the Hill. Construction on the subterranean reservoir began in the 1950s, but was terminated - as rumours have it - after the discovery that parts of the ancient cave system underlying the Hill were found to be artifically-produced by unknown agencies...

Unnervingly, it appears from the image above that the manhole cover has been torn open from the inside of the access tunnels that honeycomb the Hill's interior.

Saturday, October 28, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.301: New Build


More Ministry brutalism dominating the Horsingdon landscape - this time overlooking the Grand Union Canal from a patch of waste ground formerly occupied by one of the Borough's rapidly disappearing freehouses. It is unclear as to the purpose or remit of this particular installation, although it is inaccessible to the public and surrounded by a barred iron fence. Notably, the building was constructed relatively recently; given that most if the Ministry outposts throughout Horsingdon date to the 1950s and are largely abandoned, one wonders what might account for this apparent renewed interest in the region...

Friday, October 27, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.300: Broken Gateways


A pathway off the Ebury Way which leads nowhere, quietly guarded by a rusted and broken gate. A scene of little significance to some - but not to the guardians of the Black Bowers, who regularly cross such intersections and traverse the anonymous paths whose thresholds these crooked doorways safeguard. Whence they take those guardians none can say - for every one of those brave souls who have attempted to follow in their sinister footsteps have never returned from wherever such pathways lead.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.299: Haunted Machinery


A piece of machinery supposedly recovered from the Horsingdon Bunker, whose function - despite extensive and painstaking analysis - remains a mystery; there has been some speculation that it may have been part of a torsion implosion device developed from Victor Shaubergers' research on anti-gravitics and dimensional boring - due in part to its bearing some resemblance to the mechanics of the infamous Die Glocke which Schauberger is said to have worked on towards the end of World War  II.

Those who have been in close proximity to the enigmatic contrivance swear that it is haunted by some sinister and unknowable presence - perhaps drawn to this world as a consequence of the vey same experiment for which this mysterious apparatus was devised.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.298: IndustrIalised Spectrality


The desolate industrial regions of Horsingdon are as much a part of the Borough’s hidden,  praeternatural topography as the apparent primordialism of its more rural spaces (although even these landscapes have long been shaped by human intervention).

One occasionally finds old factories in the deserted industrial parks of Horsingdon which no one remembers, and which seem to be without history: there is no record of their being built, no indication of ownership, and no name branding their shabby facades. No one remembers anyone working at these sites. Such places breed spectrality and mystery - they become generators of urban myth and modern folklore, zones of adolesent ostension which sometime beget genuine tragedies – in the form of an inexplicable disappearance, a fatal accident, or even an unexpected act of bloody murder - from which further mythmaking unravels and by which more ghosts are produced.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.297: Monstrous Aftermath


The aftermath of an 'incident' at a Ministry warehouse which occured in October 1970, allegedly caused by the mishandling of some item - or, as some rumours would have it, something - stored there. Whatever the source of the incident, it seems that the staff at the installation successfully limited the damage caused: if anything was released from containment, there are no reports in the newspapers of the day indicating that a horror had been loosed on Horsingdon.

Monday, October 23, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.296: A Darkened Stairwell


According to one of the sayings of the guardians of the Black Bowers, 'there is nothing more seductive - and nothing more terrifying - than the unexpected discovery of a darkened stairwell in the middle of the night on a deserted Horsingdon street - for who knows where it might lead?'. 

The majority of Horsingdon's inhabitants have, at least, some intimation of an answer to this question, such that they steadfastly avoid such gloomy architectural apparitions whenever they encounter them whilst walking home alone at night.


Sunday, October 22, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.295: Strange Computations


In the depths of Horsingdon Bunker, a Ministry official oversees what was - at least for the late 1950s - cutting edge computer technology, which here seems to be slaved to archaic machineries of unknown purpose.

Rumours persist, however, that the sinister computations and disquieting calculations produced by these rudimentary forms of digital technology elucidated an alien mathematics, the implications of which threatened to turn the Cold War hot in a horrifying and unthinkable manner - an eventuality postponed only by the necessary and permanent 'removal' of all those unfortunate individuals who had come into even the briefest contact with these monstrous algebraics...

Saturday, October 21, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.294: The Hanging Tree


The Hanging Tree sits atop One Tree Hill, overlooking Welbury - a parish within the borough of Horsingdon, and a mile or so from Horsingdon Hill. Unsurprisingly, the Hanging Tree acquired its name as a consequence of it once being Horsingdon's central site of public execution. During the  latter half of the 17th, it was here that a significant number of people met their deaths as a result of being found guilty of the crime of witchcraft - including three individuals believed to have been active in the Horsingdon Coven.

A cloaked and hooded figure has occasionally been spied in the vicinity - usually around midnight and on the eves of certain festivals; local folklore holds this to be the revenant of one of the witches whose life the Tree once claimed. Strange offerings, whose nature and origins are uncertain, have also been found at the base of the Tree - although no one in their right mind touches such unwholesome leavings.

Like so many other of the strange places for which the region is renowned, the Tree has been the site of a number of mysterious - albeit infrequent - disappearances. As a consequence - and in spite of the quite spectacular view of the Borough available from the crest of the Hill where the Tree stands - few people nowadays care to visit the locale.

Friday, October 20, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.293: Tunnels


Horsingdon subterrenea has been the locus of a good number of the speculative investigations recorded here. The above image supposedley depicts part of a network of vast tunnels which run below the region, connecting a large number of the Ministry and MoD sites spead across Horsingdon, Harlow, and Trentford; however the tunnels were not, as rumour has it, constructed by either of those agencies as much as repurposed by them - raising the question of precisely when they were built, and by whom...or what?

Thursday, October 19, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.292: The Sounds From Below


Located at the farthest edge of Croxley Moor: another deserted Ministry outpost cloaked in an aura of sinister mystery. In this instance, residents local to area have, for the past two decades, told tales of strange chanting heard coming from somewhere below the building: a chanting clearly produced by human vocal chords - but which, on certain occasions, is answered by sounds wholly alien and inhuman…

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.291: The Streets of Horsingdon


An Autumnal twilight falls upon the streets of Horsingdon, cloaking the region in a strange, phasmagorical sodium haze. Streetlamps take on a sinister demeanour, looming out of the dusk like some bizarre breed of spindly alien mantis - everyday objects suddenly rendered unreal and intrusive upon an otherwise pedestrian landscape.

It is at such moments that the streets of Horsindon become subject to a mysterious perichoresis: everything becomes liminal, and a sudden wrong turning, or the misguided decision to take a shortcut down a rarely used and poorly-lit alleyway, can draw the hapless traveller inexorably into a vast and unknown realm from which few ever return - and from which fewer still come back unchanged.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.290: Residual Haunting


A dilapidated Ministry of Defence listening post at the edge of Horsingdon. A relic of the Cold War, the structure is bound up with the strange paranoia of that era: it is supposedly linked to Horsingdon Bunker by a lengthy series of access tunnels which, according to a few of the more choice rumours surrounding the place, are haunted by an awful presence released as a result the highly unorthodox physics with which the Bunker's research team were experimenting in secret.

Over the decades, the listening post has acquired a reputation as being a focal point of black magical and satanic activity in the region, perhaps in part because of its earlier associations with the mysteries of Horsingdon Bunker - and the residual influence of whatever monstrous forces were raised within its subterrenean confines.

Monday, October 16, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.289: Lost Souls


This unique and rather unsettling photograph surfaced online recently, and has been doing the rounds of various conspiracy forums dedicated to the mysteries of Horsingdon. Purportedly it depicts an interior section of Horsingdon Bunker, and the large team of scientists who worked there during the 1960s as part of a highly secretive project.

Whatever the nature of said project, apparently none of the individuals depicted here lived to see it to its end; one can't help but speculate - given the seriousness of their expressions - as to whether the research which these men and women were engaged in had perhaps already provided some intimation of the terrible place to which it would ultimately lead them.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.288: The Haunted Vicarage


Horsingdon Vicarage has stood empty nigh on five decades now, since the untimely death of the previous inhabitants: one Joseph Penderton and his family. During his residence at the vicarage, Penderton uncovered strange markings carved into the stonework of the floor of the building's cellar. His diary recounts that subsequent investigations led to a momentous discovery of something below the cellar - although he is highly circumspect as to the nature of this something. In any case, a few days later, Penderton had killed his wife and daughter (in what was described in police reports as a ritualistic manner), before hanging himself.

Needless to say, the ghost of Penderton is said to haunt to building, manifesting as a slack-jawed, and dead-eyed spectre of a spectacularly mindless demeanour. Other stories tell of how, if one encounters the ghost and looks into those dead eyes, the percipient will be vouchsafed a glimpse of the maddening knowledge which caused Penderton to murder his family before taking his own life.

No one has yet found the strange markings mentioned in Penderton's diary, and whose original discovery seemingly precipitated the whole sorry affair.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.287: The Other Sounds



A Ministry installation not far from the Grand Union remains permanently cloaked within the noisy hum of strange machinery - a hum which on occasion grows in intensity to drown out other, less reconisable sounds which sometimes emanate from within the vast and unknown depth of this nameless, windowless structure.

Friday, October 13, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.286: Aural Spectralities



An accelerative shift favouring hauntological static has been notable in the balance of signal-to-noise where Horsingdon's transmitter arrays have been concerned. In a matter of a few short days, the airwaves have been subject to unprecedented colonisation by strange and hyperstitial aural spectralities; they have spread with a mutable, liquid velocity, transforming even the most benign transmissions into a source of disquiet and dread: the parochial, comforting voice of a well-loved presenter becomes malign, distorted, and suggestive of terrible secrets; children's hour echoes with the fairytale sing-song horror of sinister and forgotten Machenesque languages - symbol-sounds resonant with the signification of an unspeakable witchlore; the afternoon play strectches on endlessly, the voices of the actors becoming sparse and faint, as if lost within the vast and hollow confines of a recording studio whose cobwebbed walls have come to encompass a whole, haunted universe...

All of this is unsurprising. Such things are anticipated - expected, even - as All Hallows Eve steps another day closer to the borders of Horsingdon.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.285: Luminescent Horror


Shapeless, coherent light irradiates one of Horsingdon's alleyways with luminescent horror. The amorphous, glowing mass was witnessed crawling from out a circle of red chalk etched in the pavement by the side of an old brick wall - one bearing upon its wretched facade a spray-painted sigil of sinister demeanour. Fortunately, the thing dissipated - harmlessly, one hopes - soon after this photograph was taken.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.284: Street Sigils



The guardians of the Black Bowers - alongside other of Horsingdon's esoteric and psychogeographic hucksters and dilletantes - have, in recent months, been marking out the occult topographies of the region's urban spaces through a series of strange sigils, cryptic ideograms, and other highly abstracted systems of arcane hieroglyphics. That these symbols appear mostly at locations of notable disrepair and urban decrepitude perhaps indicates that they pertain to some hitherto hidden or as-yet unformed cosmology of ruination and decay.

There is, however, amongst these forms an occasional resemblance (albeit in a modified and modernised form) to certain highly secretive systems of signification associated with Those Who Wait - and with other veiled canons of occult knowledge linked to the denizens of those abysmal, hyperdimensional zones of entity and being which lie far outside the conceptual framework of minimally-sapient hairless primates.

Exactly why these sigils have begun appearing in the streets and alleys of Horsingdon remains unclear. But what is certain is that they herald the approach of nothing which the folk of Horsingdon would ever wish to countenance.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.283: Four Men Upon a Mound


Four guardians of the Black Bowers conduct business under cover of the pre-dawn mist upon one of Horsingdon's Neolithic mounds. In the folklore of the region, such a convocation only occurs when the guardians seek to enter into direct communication - usually for some sinister purpose - with Those Who Wait; the old tales typically recount such attempts as ending disasterously.

In any case, the subjects of the above image were apparently known to the photographer; soon after the photo was taken, the four men apparently walked calmly and in single file into the nearby Horsingdon Woods - and therafter were never again seen in Horsingdon or its adjacent parts.

Monday, October 09, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.282: The Devil's Due


St. Stephen's Church in Harlow. Legend holds that the foundations of the church were originally laid upon the remnants of an old Roman temple at which nameless rites had once been performed; legend also maintains that during the 17th Century members of the Horsingdon coven would meet in the church's crypt, where they would make the Sign of the Goat, utter the Three Unspeakable Names, and call forth the Black Man of the Sabbat. That dread entity, it is said, always leaves its mark at the sites of its manifestation; indeed, there have been regular reports of the smell of sulpher in the crypt, and of a tall, shadowy shape which haunts the nave of St. Stephen's church - and which has been known to induce madness in those who have had the misfortune to encounter it.

Sunday, October 08, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.281: The House on the Borderland


On the parish boundary between Horsingdon and Harlow sits this crumbling domicile - long uninhabited on account of the long history of disappearances which haunts the place. Whilst the house has never undergone significant renovation or been subject to any structural changes since the time of its construction, accounts provided by previous inhabitants regarding its interior layout have varied widely - to the extent that there is little agreement between these statements concerning something as simple (and seemingly self-evident) as the exact numbers of rooms the structure supposedly possesses.

One previous occupant even described in his diary - discovered shortly after this unfortunate individual's mysterious disappearance - the existence of an extensive series of cellars and sub-cellers leading hundreds of feet below the house, culminating in a cathredral-sized grotto within which the narrator apparently discovered an 'Infinite Staircase' which apparently wended its way through 'those Lower Realms of which I dare not speak'.

Needless to say, no subsequent survey of the property has provided evidence of such cavernous subterrenean delvings; there has, however, been significant disagreement as to the exact dimensions of the house as provided by the various surveys to which it has been subjected over the years - including one notable claim that the building seemed to be endowed with a greater internal volume of space than the external measurements would allow for.

There is nothing else really to say about the matter, other than to mention the fact that, unsurprisingly, records indicate that the house was originally built by James Boreham.

Saturday, October 07, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.280: Horror Borealis


Strange particles bursting upon the stratosphere turn the Autumnal skies of Horsingdon a sodium orange - precipitating a sudden and unexpected thunderstorm.

Some residents claim they can hear monstrous howlings interwoven with the roar of superheated air, as something unspeakable the size of continents grinds its vast apocalyptic bulk against the meagre walls of this world, seeking purchase, seeking ingress.

Friday, October 06, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.279: Strange Delvings


This image purports to show a site not far from Northala Mound which was being excavated by the Ministry sometime in the late 1950s. Note the curious apotropaic markings carved into the earthworks at the far edge of the site near the bottom of the photograph. There are no accesible records - or any other tangible evidence - which recount the purpose or indeed the aftermath of the dig; nor is the site readily identifiable today. All one can say about the matter is that - hopefully - nothing untoward has been roused by these curious delvings.

Thursday, October 05, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.278: St. Joseph's Church


St. Joseph's Church in Trentford has remained closed for the best part of three decades - although it has not, as yet, been deconsecrated. Its closure coincided with the disappearance of the parish priest and a number of his congregation, all of whom participated in black magical rites conducted in a basement beneath the church. Or so it is rumoured.

It is also rumoured that during one such rite, this heterodox group called up a formless shape from some nameless abyss which they lacked the skill or knowledge to put down: something which to this day prowls the nitrous cellars beneath the church, alone but for the bones of those who brought it into this world; something whose mournful howls rise forever upwards, unanswered, through the vast black emptiness of space.

Wednesday, October 04, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.277: Bridgewater Avenue



Some places exude spectrality: it has become the fundamental constituent of their being - even though they were not always this way. A lonely row of shop fronts, long ago abandoned and boarded, form an eyesore along the otherwise leafy and suburban Bridgewater Avenue. Yet their anomalous status is not so much a condition of their disrepair, but because bypassers sense their inherently unnerving, spectral quality. It is a quality which, like their abandonment, was produced epiphenomenally out of something terrible which once occured here: an operation so inconceivable in its unnaturalness that it effected a monstrous transformation upon the intangible substance of the real: an alchemy of horror.

No one remembers who once owned the shops; neither is there any local memory of what was once purveyed within their walls; nor are there any extant local scraps of folklore which recount their haunting - surprising for a place like Horsingdon, whose every side alley seems to possess its own ghost or tale of terror.

But perhaps it is best that such things remain unbidden and unremembered, lest recollection calls forth the liveliest awfulness of that which, for the time being, can only be sensed and intuited uneasily.

Tuesday, October 03, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.276: The Lower Tunnels


Boreham Park Station on Bridgewater Road is overlooked by Horsingdon Hill, and is a stone's throw from the Park itself.

Whilst the station platforms are above ground at street level, they are connected by an underpass of classic London Underground design, tiled in the colours of the Piccadilly Line (at whose suburban hinterlands Boreham Park Station sits). Midway along this underpass one encounters a locked iron gateway, blocking entrance to another tunnel - one which leads even deeper downwards to a room which always appears to be very brightly lit - so much so that its is impossible to discern the overall shape or contents if the room. The light which emanates from that place often seems to flicker and pulse in odd ways, such that the casual observer can sometimes be left thinking that there are shifting shapes or figures trapped behind that blindingly uncanny luminescence.

Station staff remain reticent when questioned on the matter. Most of them seem to have been resentfully employed at the locale for decades, such that one wonders if they were sent there for some past yet unnameable infraction - perhaps being forced to wait out the rest of their working lives as the guardians of a deadly secret...