Pendle's Curse: The RIP Squad Chronicles, #1

By Blake Patrick

A town quiet for centuries, awakens to a vengeful spirit

Prepare to be captivated by the mysterious town of Pendle and the gripping tale of a group of paranormal investigators who have been called upon to unravel the secrets of the supernatural.

With heart-pounding suspense, poignant moments, and a touch of the inexplicable, "Pendle's Curse" is a novella that will take you on a journey where the lines between past and present blur, and where the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

If you enjoyed the mystery and suspense of the novel, "The Da Vinci Code" you'll be sure to love this one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blake Patrick
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223301301

Blake Patrick

Blake Patrick brings nearly three decades of frontline police experience to the literary world. Serving as a bastion of law and order in the UK for 29 years, Blake dedicated his career to the pursuit of justice, not only as a detective unravelling the intricate webs of criminal minds but also as a Family Liaison Officer, providing a compassionate bridge between the force and the families touched by tragedy and crime. Retiring the badge, Blake has since brandished the pen, channelling years of amassed knowledge, humanity, and street-smart wisdom into writing. Although this passion for storytelling was always a flickering flame throughout their policing career, it has only recently roared to life with the completion and publication of their works. This newfound courage to share stories comes from the very essence of a life spent in service to others and a personal milestone of triumph over the daunting vulnerability of creative expression. Blake's works are a unique blend of gritty reality and the rich, complex tapestry of human emotion, informed by an intimate understanding of crime's impact on people and society. Each narrative is not only an act of exploration but also a tribute to the resilience of the human spirit, often exploring themes that resonate deeply with readers from all walks of life. Married for 39 years, Blake's personal life is as rich and fulfilling as their professional one. Together with their spouse, they have nurtured a family that has grown to include two children and three grandchildren, creating a strong, loving foundation that has undoubtedly influenced Blake's writing. Often, it's within the animated discussions and suggestions from these family members that seeds for stories are planted. Whether it's delving into subjects of personal intrigue or taking up the gauntlet thrown by a family member's curiosity, Blake approaches writing with the same fervour and commitment once reserved for solving cases. Readers can expect a journey through pages that not only enthral but also enlighten, crafted by someone who has not only observed life from the sidelines but has been an active participant in its most challenging arenas. Blake's books promise to be a sanctuary where the thrill of the chase, the depth of human connection, and the subtleties of life's intricate narratives converge. 

Book preview

PENDLE’S CURSE

BLAKE PATRICK

PENDLE’S CURSE COPYRIGHT © 2023 by Blake Patrick

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

For further information please contact the Author here:

[e-mail]

https://Blake-Patrick.co.uk

1st edition 2023

Contents

PENDLE’S CURSE

Dedication

The New Estate

The RIP Squad

Sarah

The Community Meeting

The Children

The Oak Tree

The Shadow

Chilling Encounter

Disturbed Sleep

A Tense Séance

Delving into History

Jeremiah Cooper

Shadows of the Oak Tree

A Promising Lead

Lifting the Shadow

Dedication

To my beloved grandchildren ,

This book is dedicated to you - the bright sparks of hope and joy in my life. May these pages fill your hearts with wonder, fuel your imaginations, and remind you always of the power of curiosity and courage.

In every mystery solved by the RIP Squad, see the reflection of your own potential for adventure and discovery. Let their journey inspire you to explore, question, and embrace the unknown with open arms and brave hearts.

Remember, the world is full of stories waiting to be uncovered, and each of you carries the light to illuminate the shadows. May you always find the strength to face your fears, the wisdom to seek the truth, and the warmth of love and family to guide you through life's adventures.

With all my love,

Pops

The New Estate

The early morning sun cast a golden glow over Pendle Hill, illuminating the newly built Hillview Gardens at its base. It was a scene of picturesque tranquillity, promising new beginnings for its inhabitants. 

The estate, with its modern architecture harmoniously blending into the lush greenery, was an alluring beacon for families, young couples, and retirees alike. Each new resident was drawn by the promise of a fresh start in a serene environment, eager to leave their pasts behind and embrace the community’s hopeful spirit.

At the heart of Hillview Gardens, an ancient oak tree stood tall, its sprawling branches reaching wide as if to welcome the newcomers. This majestic tree, with its thick trunk and gnarled limbs, was a symbol of resilience and continuity. 

Beneath its protective canopy, children played, their laughter ringing out, mingling with the chirping of birds and the rustling leaves. Parents unpacked boxes and arranged furniture, occasionally stopping to exchange pleasantries with their new neighbours, forging bonds in this budding community.

Emma, a young mother of two, was one of the first to notice the peculiarities that began to emerge as the day wore on. While unpacking in her kitchen, she felt a sudden chill, an inexplicable coldness that made her shiver despite the warm summer air. 

She paused, glancing around the room, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she shrugged it off as a draft. Yet, the sensation of being watched lingered, a discomfort that she couldn’t quite shake.

Next door, Jack, a retired police officer, observed a strange mist hovering over the ground. Subtle and almost imperceptible, the mist seemed to move against the wind rather than with it. Jack, a man of logic and reason, dismissed it as a trick of the light, but a nagging sense of unease remained. His instincts, honed by years of service, told him to stay alert.

Jack was the founder of a paranormal group, of former police officers, aptly named the RIP Squad, Retired Investigators of the Paranormal. The Squad were away dealing with another case, so Jack thought that he might be able to deal with these occurrences himself, how wrong he was.

As the afternoon stretched on, more subtle oddities began to unfold. Shadows lingered longer than they should have, and the breeze transported whispers that sounded almost like hushed conversations. 

The once majestic oak tree took on an eerie presence as dusk approached, its twisted branches casting unsettling shapes on the ground. These peculiarities, though small, began to weave a thread of unease through the fabric of the community.

By evening, the streetlights flickered intermittently, casting the estate into moments of darkness. In these brief lapses, the residents felt a mysterious sense of dread, as if the night itself was alive with unseen watchers. The laughter of children gave way to nervous glances and hurried steps. 

The once welcoming shadows now seemed to hide secrets, the darkness whispering of things best left unseen.

In one house, a child woke up screaming from a nightmare, speaking of a lady in the shadows who whispered secrets in a language he couldn’t understand. His parents, bleary-eyed and concerned, soothed him back to sleep, attributing the dream to the stress of moving. 

Yet, as the clock struck midnight, a collective shiver ran down the spine of Hillview Gardens. Dogs howled in unison, and the wind carried a mournful cry that seemed to come from the hill itself.

Hillview Gardens, boasting contemporary facades and well-manicured lawns, was supposed to be a haven, a place of fresh starts. 

But as the first night drew to a close, a whispering voice seemed to drift through the air, a remnant of a long-forgotten past hinting that some beginnings are born from endings long buried and best forgotten.

As dawn broke, dispelling the night’s last shadows, the residents awoke to their new life, unaware that a hidden tale of their home was yet to unfold—a story woven with threads of mystery, history, and an unshakable chill that promised to reveal itself in the most haunting of ways.

As the morning sun climbed higher into the sky, the activities in Hillview Gardens resumed with a renewed vigour. Children, now fully awake, explored their new surroundings with unbridled excitement, racing through the neat rows of houses and meticulously manicured lawns. 

Their laughter, once again, filled the air, a stark contrast to the previous night’s unsettling events. Parents busied themselves with unpacking and organising, trying to settle into their new lives.

Emma stood by her kitchen window, sipping her coffee, her mind still replaying the odd chill she had felt the day before. Her eyes drifted to the old oak tree, its leaves shimmering with morning dew. Despite its majestic appearance, something about the tree felt off. Emma’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her neighbour, Sarah, who came over to introduce herself.

Good morning! I’m Sarah, from next door, she said with a warm smile. Emma returned the greeting, grateful for the distraction. The two women chatted about their families and the excitement of moving into a new home. Sarah mentioned her passion for photography and how she couldn’t wait to capture the beauty of their surroundings. 

Emma, feeling a sense of camaraderie, shared her own experiences with the strange occurrences, hoping Sarah might have noticed something similar.

Do you believe in ghosts? Emma asked, half-jokingly, trying to gauge Sarah’s reaction. 

Sarah laughed, but then grew serious. 

I don’t know about ghosts, but I do believe that places can hold memories, both good and bad. Maybe Hillview Gardens has a story of its own.

Across the street, Jack was busy setting up his study. Surrounded by unpacked boxes, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease from the previous night. He had always been a man of facts and evidence, but the strange mist and the lingering shadows played on his mind. Deciding to take a break, he stepped outside to clear his head and was soon joined by his neighbour, Tom.

Morning, Jack. How’s the unpacking going? Tom asked, his tone cheerful but with a hint of the same unease Jack felt. 

It’s coming along, Jack replied. Though I have to admit, there’s something odd about this place. Did you notice anything strange last night?

Tom nodded, his expression becoming more serious.

Yeah, actually. My wife, Sarah, saw some weird mist near the oak tree. She thinks it might be worth investigating, given her interest in photography.

Intrigued, Jack decided to meet Sarah and hear her perspective. He crossed the street and introduced himself, soon finding himself engrossed in a discussion about the peculiar events. Sarah showed him some of the photos she had taken of the estate, including several shots of the oak tree that seemed to have an unnatural blur around them.

These were taken just before dusk, Sarah explained. I thought it might be a trick of the light, but now I’m not so sure.

Jack examined the photos closely. 

I’ve seen a lot in my years on the force, but this is something different. Maybe there’s more to this place than meets the eye.

As the day progressed, the residents of Hillview Gardens continued to settle in, but the sense of unease lingered just beneath the surface. Conversations on doorsteps and over garden fences often turned to the peculiar events of the night before. While some residents dismissed them as figments of imagination or the stress of moving, others felt a growing sense of foreboding.

Emma, Sarah, and Jack formed an unlikely trio, bound by their shared curiosity and concern. They decided to keep an eye on things and share any further odd experiences. 

As they parted ways, each returning to their own tasks, they couldn’t help but glance back at the ancient oak tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze, as if whispering secrets of a past long forgotten.

As the afternoon settled into Hillview Gardens, the residents continued their efforts to transform their new houses into homes. However, the peculiarities of the estate seemed to become more pronounced as the day wore on. 

The whispers of the wind, the lingering shadows, and the uneasy feeling that something was watching them made their way into conversations, further cementing the bond between Emma, Sarah, and Jack.

Emma found herself drawn to the old oak tree again, this time with her children, Lily and Max, who were eager to explore the large tree that stood like a sentinel in the heart of their new community. 

While her children played, Emma’s gaze remained fixed on the tree, her mind wandering through the possibilities of its historical significance. The tree's thick, knotted trunk and sprawling branches told a story of endurance, but what exactly had it endured?

Be careful, you two, she called out, her voice tinged with concern. She couldn't shake the feeling that the tree held more than just physical space in their new lives; it seemed to anchor a dark history within its roots.

Sarah, equipped with her camera, joined Emma at the tree. 

Mind if I snap a few photos? she asked. Emma nodded, appreciating the company. As Sarah moved around the tree, capturing its many angles, she noticed something unusual in the bark – faint symbols, almost rune-like, that seemed to shimmer in the afternoon light.

Emma, come take a look at this, Sarah said, pointing to the markings. Emma approached, squinting at the ancient symbols etched into the wood. 

Do you think they're just natural formations? Emma asked, though she doubted it.

Sarah shook her head, her curiosity piqued. 

I don't think so. These look deliberate. Maybe someone carved them a long time ago. She took several close-up shots, intending to research them later. The discovery added another layer to the mystery of Hillview Gardens.

Meanwhile, Jack had decided to investigate the strange mist he'd seen the night before. He walked the perimeter of the estate, his experienced eyes scanning for anything out of place. The mist, though elusive, had left a lasting impression on him. 

As he walked, he met another neighbour, an elderly woman named Mrs Hargreaves, who had lived in the area long before the estate was developed.

Good afternoon, Mrs Hargreaves, Jack greeted her. I’m Jack, one of your new neighbours.

Mrs Hargreaves looked up, her sharp eyes assessing him. 

Good afternoon, Jack. Welcome to Hillview Gardens. It's not often we get newcomers here.

Jack sensed an opportunity to learn more. 

I was wondering if you knew anything about the history of this place. Anything unusual?

The old woman chuckled softly, a knowing smile on her face. 

Unusual, you say? This place has more stories than you can imagine. The land here... it has a history, a dark one. The old oak tree, for instance, has stood here for centuries. They say it’s seen things that no one should.

Jack's interest was piqued. 

Can you tell me more about it?

Mrs Hargreaves nodded, her expression turning serious. 

There are tales of witch gatherings and dark rituals performed under that tree. They say the spirits of those wronged in the past still linger, unable to find peace.

Jack listened intently, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to form a clearer picture. He thanked Mrs Hargreaves and promised to visit her again for more stories. Jack explained to Mrs Hargreaves about his paranormal group and some of the work they had done together.

I think you may need to call on their expertise sooner rather than later. Mrs Hargreaves said.

As he walked back towards his house, he spotted Sarah and Emma by the oak tree, deep in conversation. He approached them, sharing what he had learned from Mrs Hargreaves.

It seems the tree has quite a history, Jack said. Witch gatherings, dark rituals – it all fits with the strange occurrences we've been noticing.

Sarah showed Jack the photos of the symbols on the tree. 

These might be connected to those rituals, she suggested. Jack examined the images, his mind racing with the implications.

As dusk began to fall, the trio decided to regroup and share their findings in more detail. They arranged to meet at Emma's house later that evening, ready to delve deeper into the mysteries that Hillview Gardens had to offer. The feeling of unease grew stronger as the shadows lengthened, but so did their resolve to uncover the truth.

As the sky began to darken, Emma prepared her living room for the evening meeting. She set out some snacks and drinks, trying to create a warm, inviting atmosphere to counter the growing sense of dread. 

Her children, now tired from their day of play, were tucked into bed, their innocent faces completely different from the heavy thoughts occupying her mind.

Sarah arrived first, her camera slung over her shoulder and a laptop under her arm. She had spent the last hour researching the symbols she had photographed on the oak tree and was eager to share her findings. Jack arrived shortly after, carrying a notebook filled with his observations and the stories he had gathered from Mrs Hargreaves.

Thanks for hosting us, Emma, Jack said as he settled into an armchair. We need to piece together what we know and figure out our next steps.

Sarah nodded, setting up her laptop on the coffee table. 

I found something interesting about those symbols on the tree. They’re not just random markings. They seem to be a form of runes, possibly Norse or early Celtic. They were often used in rituals and could be connected to the old folklore Mrs Hargreaves mentioned.

Emma leaned forward, her interest piqued. 

So, these symbols could be part of the rituals performed under the tree?

Exactly, Sarah replied, pulling up images on her laptop. Look at this. These runes were often used for protection, but they could also be used to bind spirits or cast curses. It’s possible that whoever carved them was trying to either protect themselves from the spirits or trap them.

Jack flipped through his notebook. 

That fits with what Mrs Hargreaves told me. She mentioned that the land here has a dark history, filled with witch gatherings and rituals. If the spirits of those wronged still linger, these symbols might be what’s keeping them here.

Emma shivered involuntarily. 

So, we’re living on land that’s essentially a giant haunted site? What do we do about it?

Jack looked thoughtful. 

We need to gather more information. We need to talk to more of the long-time residents and see if there are other stories like Mrs Hargreaves. We also need to keep an eye on any more strange occurrences and document everything.

Sarah nodded in agreement. 

And I can continue to take photographs, especially at night. Maybe we’ll catch more of these symbols or even some of the spirits themselves.

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden noise. A loud thump echoed through the house, causing all three to jump. Emma’s face went pale.

That came from upstairs, she whispered.

Jack immediately stood up, his police instincts kicking in. 

Stay here. I’ll check it out. He moved quickly but cautiously towards the stairs, his heart pounding. Sarah and Emma exchanged nervous glances, their earlier bravado waning in the face of real fear.

Jack ascended the stairs, every creak and groan amplifying his anxiety. Reaching the top, he paused, listening. The hallway was silent, eerily so. He slowly made his way to the children’s room, where the noise had seemed to come from. Pushing the door open, he found both children sound asleep, undisturbed by whatever had caused the noise.

As he turned to leave, he noticed something strange. The toy chest, which had been closed earlier, was now wide open. Toys were strewn across the floor as if they had been thrown in a fit of anger. Jack’s pulse quickened as he surveyed the room. Nothing else seemed out of place, but the sense of unease was overwhelming.

He closed the toy chest and quietly returned downstairs. 

The kids are fine, but their toy chest was open, and toys were everywhere, he reported. Something or someone must have done it.

Emma’s eyes widened in fear. 

What does this mean? Are we in danger?

Jack shook his head, trying to remain calm. 

It means we need to be vigilant. Whatever is happening here is more than just old legends. We have to be prepared for anything.

Sarah looked determined. 

Then we need to find out how to stop it. If these symbols are part of the problem, maybe we can find a way to reverse whatever was done.

The trio sat in tense silence, the weight of their discovery pressing down on them. They had taken the first steps in uncovering the mysteries of Hillview Gardens, but the path ahead was fraught with unknown dangers. As the night deepened, they knew they had to stick together and stay strong, for the real challenge was just beginning.

The night grew deeper and colder, enveloping Hillview Gardens in a blanket of stillness that felt unnervingly alive. The trio remained in Emma’s living room, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and the unspoken fear of what might come next. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as if echoing the restless spirits bound to the estate.

Jack, Emma, and Sarah reviewed their plan for the coming days. They agreed to document every unusual occurrence, gather more stories from the long-time residents, and delve further into the history of the land. The signs on the oak tree were a significant clue, but they needed more information to understand their full meaning and purpose.

The sound of footsteps from upstairs startled them again. Jack rose swiftly, signalling for the others to stay put. This time, he moved more cautiously, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness as he ascended the stairs. He paused at the top, listening intently. The footsteps had stopped, replaced by an eerie silence.

As he approached the children’s room, he noticed a faint glow emanating from the slightly ajar door. Pushing it open, he saw the source of the light: a nightlight that had not been there before. It cast long shadows across the room, creating an unsettling scene. The children were still asleep, oblivious to the disturbances around them.

Jack’s gaze shifted to the toy chest, which he had closed earlier. It was now open again, toys once more scattered across the floor. His heart rate increased as he scanned the room, looking for any sign of an intruder or something more sinister. Nothing seemed out-of-place other than the toys.

Returning downstairs, Jack shared his findings with Emma and Sarah. 

Someone or something is definitely messing with us. We need to be on guard.

Emma’s worry deepened. 

What if it’s not just the children’s room? What if it’s the whole house?

Sarah nodded, her face set with determination. 

We need to document everything. I’ll set up cameras tonight, especially around the kids’ room and the oak tree. If there’s something out there, we’ll catch it.

They worked together to set up the equipment. Sarah positioned cameras