RedHanded - Exploring Britain’s Most Evil Church (ft. Ghost Huns) | #422

Episode Date: October 22, 2025

For our first of two Halloween specials we set off on a spooky adventure ghost hunting with Ghost Huns at Clophill, allegedly the one of the most haunted and evil locations in the UK. Today we’re going to tell you the dark history of Britain’s most horrifying church, including satanic rituals, and the local priest driving around with a dead woman’s bones in the back of his car. For the full video of our freaky frolics, including a run in with a most definitely haunted cat, head to youtube.com/@redhandedthepod from the 23rd of October.Exclusive bonus content:Wondery - Ad-free & ShortHandPatreon - Ad-free & Bonus EpisodesFollow us on social media:YouTubeTikTokInstagramVisit our website:WebsiteSources available on redhandedpodcast.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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Please contact Connects Ontario at 1-866-531-2,600, to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Scams are everywhere. On your phone, in your inbox, even on your television screen. Looking at you, Tinder Swindler, what is it about scams that has pop culture so obsessed? Maybe it's because it could happen to anyone. Or maybe it's because we're all so deeply fascinated by the psyche of someone who can lie with ease, cheat with no guilt, and convince the world that they are who they say they are, even when they're not. Scamfluencers is a weekly podcast that takes you into the world of deception, sharing the stories of today's most notorious scams. Like the recent episode of Natalie Cochran, the pharmacist Fem Fetal.

It seemed like she had it all. A good job, loving husband, and two kids. But behind the scenes, Natalie was scamming friends and family using fake contracts, fake government emails, and she even faked cancer. But when the wall start closing in, she'll do anything to keep the lie alive until someone ends up dead. Listen to scam influencers now, wherever you get your podcasts. Scams are everywhere, on your phone, in your inbox, even on your television screen. So what is it about scams that has pop culture so obsessed? Maybe it's because it can happen to anyone.

Or maybe it's because we're all deeply fascinated by the psyche of someone who can lie with ease and cheat with no guilt. Listen to scam influencers now wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Hannah. And dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the best of times, the worst of times, the most sacred of times. Here at red-handed HQ. Red-handed towers, red-handed ramparts. Because October is in full swing and all Hallows Eve is fast approaching. This year, we've got something a bit different for you.

Something a bit chaotic, very special, and a long time in the making. This Halloween, we have teamed up with the absolute legends at Ghost Huns to investigate what's been called the most evil place in England, the ruins of old St. Mary's Church. in the village of Clop Hill, Bedfordshire. A place linked to body snatching, black magic, satanic rituals and more than a few restless spirits. And long-time listeners will know

that we've been itching to explore this place for years. And it's where our very own Surruti Bala got up to teenage mischief. And now, dear listeners, we are bringing you the terror of Clop Hill. Now, in the true spirit of a clap, we decided to do it two ways. as an extra special spooky treat for you guys.

First, we braved an eerie expedition to Klop Hill ourselves, capturing all the scares, laughs and chaos on camera. So if you really want to see what happens, when four podcasters, three cameras and many glasses of wine collide in, allegedly the most evil place in England, according to, what's his name, Damien O'Dell, writer of paranormal Bedfordshire, then get your asses over to our YouTube channel. that is the red-handed YouTube channel.

You can find it there for a video. Also, be sure to hit like and subscribe and prepare yourselves for pub cats, creepy stories and ghost-hunting escapades in a ruined church that might just open the doors to hell. And as you will see on that video, the evil spirits and perhaps the literal spirits at the pub got us a bit overexcited.

So we didn't quite get to cover all the spooky tidbits on location. So today we're bringing our lovely audience. listeners the complete story from the studio, though of course with some cuts to our shenanigans with Hannah and Susie of Ghost Huns. Ready to hear the full details of Clop Hill's chilling history? Well, grab a cup of tea and let's begin. The church at the centre of our story has a full name of St Mary the Virgin, just in case anyone was worried. Today it's just a pile of ruins, commonly known as the old parish church, but once upon a December, It was a thriving hub for the local village community.

Built around 1350, the church was refurbished and extended all the way up to the Victorian area when it was finally declared too small for the local congregation. In 1848, a new church was built in the village, also called St. Mary's. The old parish church became a mortuary chapel, a place solely for the dead. Can I just ask? Yes. So it's obviously called St Mary the Virgin. I never thought about that when we were going up there and acting like fucking...

all the words I'm thinking I'm not allowed to say fucking teenagers pissing all the locals off when we were basically screaming our asses off probably drunk on cider I didn't actually know it was called St Mary the Virgin

we just called it Clop Hill which is obviously the name of the village that is obviously in reference to Mary as in Mother of Jesus I didn't know she was a saint St Mary the Virgin yeah so she is a saint but we don't

sort of think of her in that way because she has so many other names that are attributed to her, like Holy Mary, Mother of God. Got it. Blessed Virgin, et cetera, et cetera. So yes, she is a saint. And I can only assume that they dropped to the St. Mary, the Virgin to just St. Mary, because that church is the part of her life after she had more kids. I see.

So it's kind of like, you know, you go on to become a fucking genius doctor and then you're still not putting like that you got a brownies badge and like starting fires safely or something. I got it. And Jesus had brothers, like it's, you know, she was a virgin when she shoved him out, but she didn't stay one. Sure, sure. When Vandals stole lead from the roof of St Mary the Virgin in 1956, it fell into disrepair and ruin and became a grade two listed building in 1961, which for our international listeners means you can't fuck with it. Much to the chagrin of the local council. It has to stay where it is.

Honestly, I can't even imagine how fucking fucked off the people at the council. in Bedfordshire must be about this bloody church because yeah I'll be honest they have like really made it look a lot nicer in a way that has totally stripped it of its scariness when we were teenagers and we used to go up there it was super janky looking like it was really really falling down and like you said they stripped the roof a long time ago

so it was always kind of open open sky unintentionally open sky church but it was covered in graffiti and like you might not think graffiti is scary but when scary things are written on a church wall it is scary they used to be pentagrams everywhere they used to be like a big thing that said hell lies here and then an arrow it was scary they've really sanitised it they've really like cleaned it up stripped it back re pointed the whole fucking thing put signs everywhere which i'm sure we'll go on to talk about about like how no trespassing blah blah blah and you can imagine that they're just like fuck off that we can't even tear this place down like we're telling people not to go up there actively but people do go up there for the worst possible reasons like we did and we can't even tear it down. And that's been a bee in the council's bottle since 1977 when they took it over and the council taking it over

meant that it was no longer consecrated ground. Yeah, we were told in no uncertain terms that we were not allowed to go up there and do any ghost hunting. We were certainly not allowed to video it. I was certainly not allowed to put it on YouTube for all you find people to watch because they didn't want to encourage any quote-unquote non-secular activities. So if you go up there, do not say we sent you.

Now, there's a lot of unsettling facts about this particular church before we even get into the black magic stuff that's coming. Because I do want to make it clear. What we're going to tell you in this episode is that this church has a very long history of being associated with black magic. It's not just because it was in ruins and we teenagers used to go up there and act like wankers. It has a long history of this stuff. So let's start with the thing that maybe sort of immediately rubs people up the wrong way. Because when we were in the pub that we were in, I think it was called like the Stone Jug or something.

The guy we were speaking to who worked there, he was like, you know, asshole, a load of nonsense. But he's like, but something isn't quite right about that place. And maybe this is what's it because most churches face east towards sunrise and towards God. But this church faces west, so the wrong way, supposedly opening his doors to hell. Now, I don't know why they would have made, is it a mistake? Was it a conscious decision? I don't know. Now, some claim that this church is also built on an energy vortex or like, you know, laylines,

some sort of portal between the mortal and spirit worlds. It's also rumoured that the site was once a leper colony long before it was a church and local legend says that during the black death in the 14th century locals allegedly left the infected to die at the top of the hill and sought safety in the village below. I was always told when we were growing up that the church had just become the place that they dumped lepers and then they moved the village away

Because when you go up there, you see it's like it's up quite a long dirt path, which is unusual because back in the day, wouldn't they have just built villages like around the church? Like it would have been in the community not like set so far away. It's very common for churches to be built in times of pestilence to keep the dying away from the living. So it's not unsurprising that it's so far. Yeah. So that's what I always believed is that it was the church just became a leper colony, not that it was a leper colony, not that it was a leper colony. before. But, you know, we're talking a very, very long time ago. The modern creepiness associated with this place really kicked off in 1961.

A man named James Hanratti abducted a couple called Michael Gregston and Valerie Story at Gunpoint in Buckinghamshire, the neighbouring county. And Hanratti forced Michael to drive around for several hours before finally making him pull over at Dead Man's Hill, which is off the A6, near the village of Clop Hill, at around 1am. Hamratty shot Michael dead and raped Valerie in the back seat, then he shot her multiple times and left her for dead at the side of the road. Valerie miraculously survived, but was left paralysed.

Hamratty was dubbed the very imaginative A6 murderer and was executed by hanging in 1962 at Bedford Jail. You'd be pissed. You did it on dead man's hill, and they call you the A6 murderer. Literally. Enraged. I get it, like, let's not glamorise these killers. That's just a much better name, isn't it? Now, despite the A6 murderer,

the old church is actually most famous for the real-life grave robings that went on there in the 1960s, causing it to become known nationwide as the Black Magic Church. And this is what I mean? This is legit stuff. This truly happened.

These incidents of grave robbing created so much hysteria, in the 60s, that it drove the local vicar at the time to the brink of madness. So here's how it all got started. It's all a lighthearted nightmare on our podcast, Morbid. We're your hosts. I'm Alina Urquhart. And I'm Ash Kelly. And our show is part true crime, part spooky, and part comedy.

The stories we cover are well researched. Of the 880 men who survived the attack, around 400 would eventually find their way to one another and merge into one larger group. With a touch of humor. Shout out to her. Shout out to all my therapist out the years. There's been like eight of them. A dash of sarcasm and just garnished a bit with a little bit of cursing.

That motherfucker is not real. And if you're a weirdo like us and love to cozy up to a creepy tail of the paranormal. Or you love to hop in the way back machine and dissect the details of some of history's most notorious crimes. You should tune in to our podcast. Morbid. Follow Morbid on the Wondry app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to episodes early and ad free by joining.

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The A6 murderer had already cast a dark shadow over the village of Clop Hill in 1961 and its reputation was about to get even spookier with a dark discovery at the old parish church in March, 1963. It was an ordinary Saturday, two young lads from Luton, 13-year-old Calvin Smith, and 12-year-old Duncan Stein set out on their bikes to Clop Hill. Once there, up that massive fucking hill on a bike, no thank you.

It's so far. And it's steep. It's really far and really steep. And I remember when we were there. And the team were like, let's just pull over here because it says again and again, no one authorized vehicles, no one authorised vehicles. And I was like, guys, it's so much further. It's so much further. I was like, it's, this

got to be like at least a mile up that road. Oh, yeah. Once they got up there though, the boys dared each other to climb inside the ruined walls of the church and explore, and that is when they stumbled across a horrifying sight. Close to where the altar would have been in the years gone by, they found a bunch of old yellowed bones laid out in a circle on the ground. In the middle of the circle was an iron spike with a skull impaled on it. Did the boys run off screaming? No, they didn't.

Like any self-respecting young ragamuffins would. They decided to play with the bones instead. A pair of nearby dog walkers tried to dobb the boys in with their local vicar, who's called Reverend Leslie Barker, for messing with the tombs. Calvin and Duncan swore that they weren't grave robbers, that they just found the bones like that. As Reverend Barker and the police investigated further, they realised that the boys were telling the truth,

as they uncovered even more signs of chilling black magic rituals. Chicken feathers were scattered around, along with dried blood spray, suggesting some kind of ritual sacrifice had taken place. the night before. Symbols were daubed on the wall in white paint, including a Maltese cross and eyes. The papers would later report that the bones were found to have been laid out in a pattern used in a black mass. They're not real things. Or at least their origins aren't real. People do practice them, but they were just made up as anti-Catholic propaganda. But what we

guess the papers mean is that there was some kind of inverted cross laid out on the floor of clop hell, seeming to indicate satanic worship or black magic rituals. So the question was, where the hell had these bones come from? The police and Reverend Barker discovered that just outside the ruined walls, seven female tombs had been tampered with. And one of them had been successfully smashed open. The scattered bones were taken from the tomb of a woman named Jenny Humberston, the wife of the local apothecary.

which is just in case you don't know an old and timely term for chemist. If you don't know that, I worry for you. Damn this off right now. And Jenny had died in 1770 at the age of 22. Her tombstone was heavy, so it was clear that this was the work of more than just one person. And the authorities immediately suspected a cult

or sect, dabbling and black magic, devil worship, or necromancy rituals. and there had recently been rumours flying around about a witch's coven in the nearby town of Amt Hill. Could it be that there were real black magic practitioners lurking around in the quaint Bedfordshire countryside? Meanwhile, Reverend Boy Leslie Barker was alarmed and disgusted by the desecration of Jenny's grave and he wanted to restore her dignity, which he well should as a man of God. He reburied Jenny's bones in a small ceremony with a few locals, but just one week later, her grave was broken. into again. Her bones scattered around the old ruins, just like before. This time, a paranoid Reverend Barker hid Jenny's bones for safekeeping. But yet again, her tomb was broken into. Upon

realizing Jenny's bones were missing, whoever it was, smashed up her tomb and others in an apparent fit of rage. Seems like whoever they were, they were desperate for Jenny's bones in particular. But why? Well, I don't know. But fun fact. kind of that it doesn't paint old Rev Barker in the best light apparently he kept Jenny's bones in the boot of his car

for quite some time before he decided to like re-burry her and apparently he would drive around to local pubs and show them to people in exchange for a free pint I don't think he's that bothered

about her dignity somehow no no if a little peek at my remains is worth just a pint I'd be sad I'd rather be used in a black magic ritual yeah me too actually I would rather my bones be used in a black magic ritual

than just be like driven around from pub to pub in Bedford shit for a fucking pint which back in the 60s how much would a pint have cost how much I reckon a pint cost in the 60s I know that the average cost of a pint in the UK now is £4.88 because I did a quiz the other day but how much was a pint

Okay, in 1963. Well, they would have been on old money, wouldn't they? This is fucking wild. 50p? 10p. Two shillings and a penny, which is the equivalent of 10.6 pence today. I hate to hear.

Anyway, these grave robbing incidents put Klop Hill on the map as a spooky tourist attraction and a hotbed of black magic. After the bones were found, Luton Library, reported a craze of people borrowing books on magic in the occult. I love that. I feel like I'm really showing my age, but like I look at the books of my flat and I'm like, what is the point of view?

Why don't I just go to the library? Why don't I just swap them? Why have I done this to my book? I've got all these fucking books. What am I going to do with them? I know. And you're stuck with them. They're the only books you can ever.

Libraries were great. Libraries were great. Bring back the library. This one literally next door to our office. None of us go. Is that? How can you libraries? Oh, never go.

Never been. Didn't know it was there. I'm at my parents' house at the moment and I do walk past the library I used to go to. I used to go every Wednesday to change my books. I was like, it's great. What kids go into the fucking library now? Well, mainly because there aren't any. I found an audiobook that I stole from the library when I was nine in my memory box.

the reason for the doubtful of the library. But it's what, do you remember, they used to come in those plastic, like, VHS-looking cases? It's such a core memory of my childhood. And do you know what it is? It's a murder mystery. I can't remember what it is. I'll find out. That was almost exclusively what I would go to the library to borrow.

I was such a fucking, just spooky bitch from day one. I used to go to the library and I used to... How old would I have been? I don't know. Like, obviously secondary school. My audio book, I mean cassette tape. for our children listeners. Of course. Like probably like, you know, mid-secondary school years.

And I used to go and borrow like Val McDermott book after Val McDermott book and just read it more. I loved it. If you know the correlation between a pencil and a cassette tape, you're a real one. Where was I? Libraries. Okay, so Luton Library is having an absolute rage of occultuous withdrawals.

And there were stories of strange men asking locals about occult practices in Clop Hill and the Strait. surrounding area. Reporters flocked to the village for the story and the old church attracted tons of gork as hoping for a glimpse of something creepy. Teenagers started visiting the old church ruins at night to cause mischief. Just like a young and innocent Sarita Barlowood in the early naughty, she was just following in the footsteps of those before her.

But we are getting wildly ahead of ourselves. With my Val McDermott books. Tucked under your arm. Potentially, sparked by the Clop Hill craziness, there was a spark. bike of black magic incidents all around the UK in 1963. That same April in Bluebell Wood near Luton, very close to Clop Hill, the mutilated heads of six cows and a horse, were found scattered under the bushes. Allegedly, the animal's jawbones had been wrenched apart and eyeballs severed.

And I was hanging from a tree. RSPA, officer John Goodenough, Ha ha! Said, quote, there is no sensible or logical reason. the only thing I can think of is that it's tied up with Clop Hill Black Magic and if John Good Enough says it

it's probably good enough, isn't it? It's for me. Multiple churches nationwide also reported similar incidents of vandalism that seem to point to bizarre occult rituals. And we're talking about things like smash statues and graveyards and weird arcane graffiti,

creepy clay effigies pinned to church doors and even bloody sheep hearts pierced with hawthorns. That's punk. I love that. By late 1964, police said that they'd linked over 200 cases of graveyard vandalism across the UK to black magic. It was a full-on epidemic of black magic fever. But to this day, we're not quite sure who these shadowy vandals were,

or why they were up to so much spooky mischief. I mean, I think it's just like, you know, you see these phenomena, You see these kind of like social contagions happening where it's like everybody's talking about black magic. I'm sure it would have made the headlines when seven tombs were tampered with at Klop Hill. People start borrowing books. They haven't got the internet. But I'm sure if they did, you know, you would have seen a surge in searches for black magic going on. And yeah, this kind of thing is absolutely power for the course.

It's not quite a satanic panic. It's more people leaning into it. But yeah, social contagion. It makes total sense. Back in Clop Hill, Reverend Leslie Barker was almost driven mad by this ordeal. I mean, probably being haunted by the bones in his boot. That'll do it. And this was a man who had already seen his fair share of tragedy in his personal life.

Don't want to hammer at home, but he was carrying around bones in his boot. His estranged wife took her own life in 1958 from a barbiturates overdose, and not long after their daughter was killed in a freak car accident. Throughout the 60s, Reverend Barker became obsessed and paranoid about the, black magic craze at Clop Hill, saying that he felt like his role as the local vicar was cursed. He was constantly afraid that the people responsible for digging up Jenny, who he called ghouls, were watching him and were waiting to strike again. I understand that feeling. I feel like I would feel that way if I was the vicar.

They keep going after Jenny's boat. It is very weird. And in 1969, he got an alarming tip-off from a parishioner. There were rumours that another black magic ritual meeting was planned at the old church. So he tried to mobilise the villagers, but nobody seemed as bothered as he was. And so Reverend Barker went out to the old church for three nights in a row on a solo stakeout, shivering in the darkness, waiting for the cult leaders to appear. But they never did. And so on the third night, he gave up and went home.

The next morning, yet more graves had been vandalised and bones scattered. Reverend Barker was disturbed to think that whoever had been scattering bones must have been watching him the whole time from the shadows waiting for him to leave. It's enough to drive you mad. Oh yeah. He's already halfway there.

Yeah, for sure. Yeah, the grief, the probable latent alcoholism. You must be having very large feelings to be so low camping up there three nights in a row. Yeah. Scary stuff. And actually, you know, I get it because when we used to go up there as teenagers, what we would be scared of wasn't really the ghosts or like that we actually thought there was hell there. We were scared of the fucking Satanists who used to go up there and dig up bodies.

We're like, if these people are willing to desecrate graves, dig up bodies and scatter bones around of actual human people, what would happen if we run into them? Like, we were scared of them. And so I get it. So yes, Reverend Barker's nerves were pretty shredded and he followed doctor's advice after this situation and actually retired. Fittingly, he left Clop Hill for good on Halloween, 1969. With crowds of teens converging on the church like they did every year to party it up, this time safe in the knowledge that the Holy Man wasn't going to come stop them.

And to be honest, Barker didn't care anymore. he was just glad to see the back of the evil old church and he moved into a cute little cottage in Hitchin, hoping for a peaceful retirement. Until one day, he came home to find the very familiar remnants of a black magic ritual on his very own garden path.

Was it someone messing with him? Or was Reverend Leslie Barker truly haunted by whatever dark energies had amassed in his old parish? It's never super clear exactly what he finds on his garden path and I'm like, you know, a cat that's got a bird

going to make a bit of a bloody feathery mess that, you know, somebody who's already predisposed to thinking that they're being haunted by dark entities might take in a not so cash way. But yeah, I think you're seeing here the real time psychological decline of a man who

really believed what was going on here was fucked up. And again, I will reiterate whether you believe or not that there is something like magic going on up that there were a bunch are fucked up people going and digging fucking bodies. I would be scared of them. So whatever it was, in 1975,

there would be one final desecration at the old parish church. Remains were taken from a tomb and scattered just like before. A visiting reporter found a skull and a Virgin Mary statuette with its head missing. Later, the tombs were moved

to the perimeter of the churchyard rather than inside the ruins in a bid to bring to an end this creepy bullshit. And yeah, if you do go up there today, it's been like this for a very long time. They basically took up all of the headstones, anything indicating where graves would be, have basically just, like, put them all the way around the edge of the land so that nobody can tell where specific grades are to try and stop all the desecrations.

Which is just like, what a fucking creepy extreme measure to have to go to because people just will not stop. So, yeah, since then, there have been no official report. ports of bones being dug up. But individuals still claim to have seen evidence of black magic rituals over the years. Things like abandoned dolls, animal bones and chilling graffiti. When I used to go up to Clop Hill, like I said, there was a massive pentagram sprayed on the wall with the words, hell is here. So the question is, did Clop Hill truly put its grave robbing reputation to bed decades ago? Or did the sinister rituals continue? Now, just in the shadows.

We've got another surprise for you. It's not just black magic that the old parish church is known for. There have always been rumours of paranormal activity at Clop Hill. Skeptics say that it started in the early 50s when the vicar at the time made up a rumor about a ghost in the old churchyard to discourage trespasses. But over the years, there have been countless unexplained encounters. In 1993, ITV current affairs show this week filmed a segment at the old church

and the host, folklorist Eric Maple, was supposed to do a piece to camera from inside Jenny Humberston's grave. But he fainted twice. And the camera film kept malfunctioning for no reason. Something that we all know is linked to ghostly hijinks. There's nothing a restless spirit loves more than fucking with technology. They've got to get their juice from somewhere, you know? How are they supposed to talk to you?

Absolutely. so let's share some ghost stories shall we you can't see us right now but let's just pretend that we're all sitting around a campfire with torches under our faces as we introduce you to a mysterious lady called sophy local legend tells us of a mournful female ghost who trail around the old churchyard in a long white victorian-style dress she's even appeared in photographs peering through the now empty windows into the nave from a spot where there's a several foot drop.

Impossible for a human to stand in. In the 1970s archaeological investigators dug up a hidden tomb containing two skeletons and a coffin nameplate for a woman named Sophia Mendem who died in

1893 was found. Locals believe that this could be Sophie her spirit haunting the grounds in protest against the sick black magic rituals that took place there. And there's another one. In December 1969, a news agent and his wife were driving around on their early morning delivery route along Great Lane, which is the road that runs parallel to the old church.

They saw a light in the distance coming towards them. As it got closer, they realised it was a hooded man on horseback holding an old-fashioned lantern. It was a dark and gloomy morning because it's the UK So they stopped the car and switched off the headlights to avoid spooking the horse. But the horse and its rider went right through their car. The couple were terrified and agreed never to speak about it to anyone until a year later when a local woman asked if they'd ever seen the horsemen.

Turned out they weren't the only ones who'd been haunted by sightings of the strange figure. One woman had actually ended up moving away from Great Lane because he had frightened her so much. And one of the most compelling accounts about this place comes from a woman named Lynette. In the summer of 1996, she was a young photography student, taking some snaps at the old church for a uni project.

While she was up there, a young guy in motorcycle leathers appeared and chatted to her for a bit while she kept taking photos. He told her that he had relatives buried in the graveyard, so he liked to visit. Lynette later realised that the stranger had left his helmet on the church window, which was a bit irritating because it would spoil the photos that she'd been taking.

But when she later developed the film, she noticed that the helmet wasn't in any of the photos. But when she told some of her friends who were local to the area, they weren't surprised. Instead, they told Lynette about the story of a young man who had died in a motorbike crash near Clop Hill, whose ghost allegedly wanders the old churchyard. Lynette was chilled to realize that the young man she met may have been a bona fide ghost.

I feel like there's a lot of motorbike ghosts knocking around, aren't there? Why not? You just hold their ghostly bodies together in their leathers, perhaps. I've got one more. In July to the, in, it doesn't even say July, I tried to read journalist and 2000 at the same time. In 2001, two journalists from a local newspaper camped out at Clop Hill, hoping to catch paranormal evidence on their digital cameras. Nothing happened and they fell asleep by their campfire and woke up at 8 a.m.

But when developing their film later on, they found six photos that they knew they didn't take of them asleep. That's the scariest one. With white shapes like figures lying next to them. Nope. No, thank you. By the 90s and 2000s, Clop Hill had a firm and notorious reputation as a place for teenagers to hang out at night and scare themselves shutless. Now, just for the record, it's worth me noting here that we were quite well behaved and

didn't get up to any satanic inspired vandalism. We certainly didn't dig up any bodies or desecrate any graves. I mainly just wandered around trying to freak each other out with creepy urban legend games. Like the one that said, if you stared at one of the gravestones long enough, it had changed to show you the date of your own death. And it would include your name, just so you know it was talking to you. Or we would dare each other to run around the church

13 times anti-clockwise until the devil would appear. Spoiler alert, the big guy himself did not ever make an appearance, but maybe we were doing it wrong. We'd also say that if you went up and touched the church, you'd be cursed, you know, all that kind of stuff. So it goes without saying that obviously clotpill's haunted reputation made it the perfect breeding ground for daft teenage antics like this.

But, as always, some people took things way too far. The police used to get called out constantly to respond to reports of naughty kids committing vandalism, underage drinking, and generally just being a nuisance. You know those creepy stories that give you goosebumps? The ones that make you really question what's real? Well, what if I told you that some of the strangest, darkest, and most mysterious stories are not found in haunted houses or abandoned forests,

but instead in hospital rooms and doctor's offices. Hi, I'm Mr. Ballin, the host of Mr. Ballin's Medical Mysteries. And each week on my podcast, you can expect to hear stories about bizarre illnesses no one can explain, miraculous recoveries that shouldn't have happened, and cases so baffling, they stumped even the best doctors. So if you crave totally true and thoroughly twisted horror stories and mysteries, Mr. Ballin's Medical Mysteries should be your new go-to weekly show. Listen to Mr. Ballin's Medical Mysteries on the Wondry app or wherever you get your podcasts.

You can listen early and ad free right now by joining Wondry Plus in the Wondry app or on Spotify or Apple Podcasts. All right. Should we talk about the Signal Awards? Sure. Sure. That is the level of enthusiasm we would love you guys to have for us too. Because if you remember, we made the podcast series Flesh and Code with Wondry. We were super excited, like, the minute they brought that story to us, because if you haven't

listened to Flesh and Code, it's essentially about following people who essentially fall in love with their, like, AI companions. It's about Russian interference and all sorts of crazy things and about how these AI companions are to be trusted, whether this is a good thing, how it was impacting on a larger scale, and the ramifications when a replica that was the company at the heart of it took away the erotic roleplay function and didn't go well. Spoilers. So we loved making it. We spent, what, 18 months making that show? And we worked so, so hard on it. And so we are going to ask a very small favour of you guys, shockingly to us. Flesh and Code has been put up for the listener's choice category of the Signal Awards 2025. So we would love you guys to please help us out and basically try get some more eyes and ears on Flesh and Code because it was a real labour of love for us.

What you guys need to do is go to the Signal Awards. Awards website and vote for Flesh and Code. Again, it's in the listener's choice category and you can find us under documentaries, that's the category you're looking for, and then under limited series and specials. Voting is open until the 9th of October, so you really don't have much time, like literally go do this now. And we would just be so incredibly grateful because if we did win the listeners' choice for Flesh and Code at the Signals Award, then it would just mean the world to us. Thank you. So, with all of this in mind, it makes sense that the folks who currently manage the land

where the old church sits are a bit paranoid about who comes to visit. The site is now managed by Clop Hill Heritage Trust, a charity that in recent years has spent a hell of a lot of money restoring the ruins, clearing piles of rubbish, scrubbing off graffiti, and installing a watchtower that you can visit on guided tours and with permission. Klop Hill St Mary the Virgin the old parish church even host weddings these days

I can't believe that Oh I can Like just because of how they're like Do not come here Do not come here Not haunted absolutely not Yeah yeah We're not

I can see it I can see like The church is a very beautiful building And like without the roof And all of that If you've got a good day Like the big windows Stunning

But fucking weird That cat though That cat's not going to approve of them weddings. Fucking weird. Anyway, if you do decide to get married at the church, you can stay in the Clop Hill Heritage Trust's very new and very bougie eco lodges that are just next door. And for me, that is more satanic than any black mass. Anyway, all jokes aside, it is genuinely incredible to see how much effort the trust has put into.

bringing the church back to its former glory with less shopping trolleys and suspicious-looking needles on the ground. But it has lost its... I hate it. I hate it. When we went up there, I was like, I'm not even scared. Again, that was the whole fucking point of what they did. And I appreciate, like, the last time I went up there,

I was still a teenager. And we would always go up in the dark. And we would, like, scare each other on purpose. But, like, when we went up there, I was just like, oh. It's lost something. I don't know, they should have left the local legend alone, man. I just get that people who live up there would be supremely fucking annoying, yeah.

So anyway, in advance of our visit, we were naturally a little bit anxious to learn that the old church had tightened up its security and is technically supposed to be close to the public after dark these days. And we were ominously warned that there would be CCTV cameras and alarm system and even security with dogs on the premises. But were we scared?

Well, a bit. But we powered through because we were determined to visit Clot Pill and return to tell the tale. On the day itself, the sun set without so much as a chihuahua was yapped to be heard, though I will be honest the bit where that guy walked past us who was walking his dogs up there and I saw his dogs. I was like, oh, fuck, they are here. But I should have noticed when those dogs didn't give a single fuck we were there. And the guy walked off giggling. So yeah, we did take our chances and grab some spooky footage while we could.

whilst obviously being respectful to our surroundings we certainly weren't up there shrieking or doing whatever we were a bit disappointed not to get the high stakes chase that we were promised but then again we did have quite a lot on our ghostly plates and you can head over to our YouTube video if you fancy seeing our very own close shave

with Sophie the Ghost or as it turned out cameraman Bonnie and the cat don't Spunk your load no no I'm just like go watch the video for the cat because That cat was fucking up to no good.

And there was one more surprise. Hannah and Susie from Ghost Huns treated us to a few scary stories of their own on the drive back to London, which you can listen to right now. I've only told my closest friend this story and she was in utter shock. Oh. I was only 12 at the time and this all happened on a farm. I worked at many different yards, farming companies, just as a volunteer. here. I always went to this farm

every Saturday. Every week the farm was old. It had a couple of horses. Every week he was old. I couldn't... Every fucking week he got old farm. Yeah. That's how I feel. Every week I feel old. Anyway,

it had a couple of horses and I didn't think much of it. I was just so happy to be working with horses again as I'd taken a break. I'll give you a rundown of the farm. The only way to get onto the land was through the fields or the creaky gate that was so old it was practically on the floor there was a small car park and to the left were the horses to the right all the

facilities and finally behind that was the fields lovely on my first day i was helping with the horses and some of them needed saddles fitted as the saddles were getting older oh my god every week the saddles are getting older no wonder this person was shocked and older i was on my way back with the saddle approaching the horses and a kid ran out in front of me. I found this strange but I'd worked with young children before so I decided to ask him what he was doing it. After all this was private property and all riding lessons had stopped. This was around five in the afternoon. The child didn't respond and just ran off. I was confused but I assumed he just thought I was someone he knew. I got back to what I was

doing and the yard owner greeted me and asked about the child I'd seen previously because it was strange of him to be here past 430 which is the end of the riding lessons. I I was just as confused and told her I'd seen him run to the car park just a couple of minutes before she got there. She asked me if I was short because there were no more cars there. I responded with a polite yes. She thanked me and I got back to doing some jobs. Now this is where it gets weirder. The room where the saddles and bridles were kept was a boxy white room with just one pillar.

It's called an attack room. Jesus. Fuck me. Well that was fucking. Terrify. How can you? It's called the 10 minutes. Fucking hell man.

You're alone. Oh, never do that again. Okay, it was a boxy white room, tack room, with just one pillar in the middle. I was just putting the saddles back on the horse's racks, just cleaning up after myself, and all of a sudden, I heard quick, small footsteps. Footsteps of a child. I was getting annoyed now and assumed the little boy from earlier was playing a little trick on the farm. on the farm. I walked into the little room and the boy was stood behind the pillar and then

ran out past me while giggling. I shouted, you need to leave. No response. He just kept running. I jogged after him slightly confused but also slightly scared. What was a boy doing on the farm by himself and why doesn't he respond to anything? I saw him stop. Like every muscle in his body was paralysed. I stopped to say hello? I said it confused once again and this time he responded. What? He said, but it was firm, almost as if he were an adult. He still hadn't moved. You need to leave its private property. I shook as I spoke. The yard owner saw the boy's face, dropped the rape she'd just hold of, and she screamed. Now I was scared. I didn't know what to do. He ran away once again darting from us both. The yard

owner came over still shaking from what she'd seen. What did you see? I asked. I heard my voice trembled as the words got out of my mouth. She replied with a quick, Nothing, don't worry, I'm going to call your parents. I was taken home, and only a year ago did I find out what she saw. We were at an event and just happened to bump into each other. She stood with me and described what she saw that day. She told me that she just finished sweeping the stalls,

checked her watch, and was about to send me home as there were no more jobs to do. But when she turned round the corner, the boy was staring at her. He had black eyes and his mouth looked like it had been sewn up and ripped open again as he tilted his head back and ran. This explains why he never responded to me. But why did I see a normal little boy and she a horrible ripped open mouth? I guess we'll never find out. Is that horrible though? A sewn up mouth.

Like Billy Butcher in. So you know when he ran and then he stopped and then his mouth ripped open and backwards. That's how badly he needed to say something. Oh, they've always got to say something. He's eight-year-old. Sit down, his ghost boys. Sit down.

And there are changes. It's feminism time now. No one cares what you have to say. Little boy. Oh my god. Thank you, Jucey. That was good. No, probs, Tudy-frudy.

I'm going to say before this is, because I think it's quite apt, is that she said that she really loves the podcast. She really loves the podcast, and then said, right, I'm going to stop licking your ass. So there's nothing wrong with tossing the salad. I've never heard of that. And it's that to do with rimming? Yes. Is he?

Someone said that there, you've got gammon. Why don't just toss the salad, me? Thanks, gammon. Look, it's like literature. You can really just sit up a towel. Yeah. Five years ago, I broke my leg quite badly. The doctor said that I may have caused such severe damage to my nerves that I might not be able to walk again.

The pain was horrific, but I'd had enough codeine and liquid morphine to get you. me out of agony. Unless I know, stunning. Sounds amazing. Yeah, lucky. Unless I moved it too quickly or banged it in any way. What I'm trying to say is I was fragile and at my most vulnerable and easy target. Some might say, for the supernatural. I was at my mum's house in bed, drifting off to sleep with my broken leg elevated when I heard a mank voice in my ear say, Do you want to make me come? Wow. Oh, sorry, sorry, no, it was much more feminist than that. It was, do you want me to make you come oh oh that's very nice me being the horny bitch that I am replied yes

so I driver this is not me saying that she's not scared she's not scared I had fucking sex with a ghost you and your listeners might think I'm mad no Kesha's had sex with the ghost yeah and oh no Demi Lovato didn't she just sung to one didn't she that was aliens but I know what happened and it was absolutely surreal the The voice stopped after the question. I could feel so much sexual energy pressed against my body, especially my upper half, I could feel energy all over my face. Tits and vagina.

Oh, God. Winky face. It feels... You don't really mean a winky face. It feels a bit much to be saying this in front of everybody, actually. I thought he was going to be fine, but no. You start this too late now. Just completely on top of me.

It consumed me. It felt amazing. I was really getting into it. Then about 20 seconds. in, I had the best orgasm of my life. Wow. Wow. Do you have a wet dream?

Yeah. All of a sudden, the energy that I had felt on top of me completely disappeared. I think it's important to clarify there wasn't any penetration. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Which sounds obvious, but the sexual energy was so intense, like, when you make out and you're really fucking into it. As soon as it happened, I shouted my mum to call me, you wouldn't shout your mom. That's her. What?

I've just had the best orgasm of my life. Mom! Yeah, it's a danger wank. It's true. Yeah, that's true. I shouted up to my mum to come upstairs and eagerly told her about what just happened to that.

I know. Bit much that. I don't have that relationship. Imagine it. I can't imagine Lucy being like, sorry darling, what did you do? Yeah, yeah. Got fingered by a ghost.

My mum, being the spiritual woman that she is, was dumbfounded and quite disgusted with what I just said. She, of course, asked me if I was just asleep and reminded me I'd been on a lot of painkillers following the incident, but I know exactly what I felt. She didn't disbelieve me,

but she did tell me to calm down, and stopped being so excited over it. For me, I felt like I just had the best pump of my life. And it was totally risk-free in my mind. Why not, fuck a ghost. To be fair. Yeah, she's right. Clap.

Hill. I went to sleep every night after that, asking out loud for the spirit to come back and make me orgasm again. I sound crazy, I know, but if you'd experience the sensations that I had, you'd understand. Especially being a uni student at the time.

That ghost fuck was better than any of those uni boys. well that's not surprising then go down like a cat drinking water in slow motion sorry oh she's talking about the ghost going down on her no she says most of the boys in uni go down the fresh as week

yeah she's talking about low sleeves I never experienced the same for the thrill again I did have some random dreams where one spirit visited me to have sex he told me his wife wasn't around this was most certainly a dream so she's not unaware

She's a self-aware. Ghosts and fucker. My memory of it is very vague and I was definitely asleep so I definitely couldn't say that you saw the dude with the missing wife wasn't anything but a fragment of my dream imagine. You can make yourself come and you're asleep. Why would you ever have sex then?

Well, because you can't actually control it. It just happens. Someone would tell me. My friend said. I've heard. My friend said. That didn't stop me asking for more. More, fool me.

Oh, oh yeah. I was back in my uni flat now recovering. We were hoping that was over. Oh no, there's quite a lot more. I was back at my uni flat now recovering. My uni-may had gone to stay with her boyfriend in another city, so I was home alone. I started to have really vivid nightmares based in the flat that I was in.

One day, I was on the ceiling of my living room, apartment, looking down at the floor, being thrown around the room. I knew what was exerting so much power over my consciousness was an evil malevolent spirit. I could feel it in my soul. It was about 10 a.m. in summer when this happened, which is not the usual time that you'd experience a ghostly encounter, is it?

So, I believe it happened. Everything that was happening to me felt exactly real. In my flat, in my living room at that time of day. I wasn't able to wait myself up from the nightmare, but when I did, I had never felt so scared. It didn't feel like a dream. From a child, I've had this skill to notice when I'm having a nightmare,

and I've been able to tap into my consciousness and tell myself to wake up over and over again. I wasn't able to do that here. I was completely weak. After that, I had another dream where I woke up and saw an evil face distorted into my white wall when I opened my eyes one morning. Honestly, saying all of this makes me feel comfortable

and I can hear noises upstairs. Or maybe it's just the neighbours. Who knows? I'm probably just, they're fucking. Well, I'm probably just overthinking. But I honestly think that when you believe in ghosts, you open your mind up to so many other realms. I had to get my mum's help with all of this.

I didn't want to be in the flat alone as my flat mate was still away. I was scared to go to sleep at night. I'd stopped asking for visits, obviously. I started to think that whatever I was opening myself up to did not have good intentions. Are you kidding? Obviously it didn't have good intentions. It's a fucking shagging ghost.

Oh, no, because it was after her pleasure. Yeah, well, I suppose so, yeah. It did ask first. Yeah. In a way, I think it's one of the best. Yeah, but I had, a lovely, lovely man ghost. I had the search online and read stories about where women had reported similar experiences to me, where sex demons attach themselves to you and then turn evil.

One woman reported bruises and all sorts over her body. I was terrified that the same might happen to me. When my mum came to my flat, we read a passage of the Bible and burnt sage. The windows had to be open to give the spirits an exit route. I honestly, I'm usually very pragmatic and would not endorse any of that stuff. I'm not religious, but I needed help and turn to God. After that, I stopped having those evil nightmares, and I think, attached itself to me knew it was not welcome and to leave me. Lots of people have told

me that I might have psychic abilities and lots of coincidences happen in my life which have made me question reality in the supernatural attimes. They're like, what are they doing in that boss? When my time finally comes I hope that I'm living it up in the afterlife and not wasting my time haunting people. Looks like some people still can't find anything productive to do even in the afterline. Everyone's got The same 24 hours in the day, right, Hans? Insert Molly May's foot. I know why I experienced how the butterflies

and sexual sensations quickly turn to very real terror. Some might say the painkillers made me experience all this and I was high, but I can tell you for certain if a voice ever asked me, if I want to come again, the answer will always be yes. I'm getting very mixed messages from this person. To be honest, I'm glad this is all behind me. I'm glad for you too.

So, we've come to the end of our time exploring the spine-tingling history of Clop Hill. And now you know better than anyone about this creepy little corner of Bedfordshire. We've wanted to cover this case for years and we couldn't think of anyone better to do it with than ghost towns. A massive thank you to Hannah and Susie for being the best sports and joining us on this wild ride. And an honorary spooky bitch mention to Mark from the Stone Jug Pub, as well as this adorable, not haunted, pub cat's guy. Go and check out our YouTube channel and the more engagement we get on these little videos, the more fun stuff we can do for you

so everybody's a winner, baby. Like, subscribe and leave your comments on what unhinged adventures you would like to see us go on in future and maybe just maybe we'll do it. And perhaps there'll be less likelihood of hounds chasing us out of haunted churches next time. And finally, just because we love spoiling our listeners at this very creepy time of year,

you can look forward to another exciting collab next week. as we continue to celebrate all things Halloween here are red-handed. Here's a hint. After all that goes hunting, I could murder a podcast. Until next time, stay safe, stay spooky. And as always, remember to pack your best Ouija board just in case. Don't leave it at Lizzie Borden's house, though. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Thank you. Thank you.