The Thing on the Harborne Trail

I am a 21 year old male, I live in the West Midlands which is in England. I have been into studying and photographing old railway stations and lines which closed during the infamous Beeching Cuts or were just closed by British Rail. Anyway on with the story, I had decided to photograph an old railway line in Harborne which is in the Edgbaston district of Birmingham City, England and because it was not far away from where I lived.

When I got to Birmingham, I had to walk over a mile through the large city to find my bus stop, just to add a little knowledge to the story. Birmingham is classed as the second largest city in the United Kingdom outside of London due to its high population. It was at first only a medium-sized market town but in size and numbers after the start of the 18th Century by being in the middle of the Midlands Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution with the population expanding rapidly over the last three centuries.


Back to the story and Birmingham had many railways that closed, reopened or were closed than reopened for other uses. Birmingham Snow Hill railway station to Wolverhampton Low Level railway station is the only old railway to be used by trams in the city but that is just to clarify anything I missed. I researched another line that closed and I have been very intent on covering. That being the Harborne Branch Line which was opened in 1866 but closed to passengers in 1934 and to all other traffic in 1963. It has since been converted into a public footpath and is quite popular among dog walkers and nature watchers.

I arrived there around 10.30am and began my walk to the end of the trail. It was quite hard to find at first due to the fact it had been snowing and was cold. I managed to find it and photograph my stations I wanted to photograph. During this walk I had Google Maps guiding me to the station sites and while that was happening I listening to Deezer and I must admit I am a fan of the old 70s-90s music over todays. I walked down to an old station site which during its heyday was known as Rotten Park Road railway station, a very appropriate name for an old station.

I then carried on walking towards the last railway station on my walk and passed a nice old lady with a German Shepard, She was the only one I saw and this is important because you will soon hear why. I walked down more and felt like I was being watched even though it was a bright day in the middle of a lovely nature walk and with rural housing all ends of the trail on embankments.

I turned to look behind me and nobody was there, I kept feeling eyes on me and looked again just a few seconds later and behind me was a dark mass that formed a human shape but with nothing to it. I was shocked at the site and it was gaining speed on me. I quickly got under the bridge expecting him or it to emerge from the bridge but nothing. I was alone other than two people just a few hundred yards away from where I was standing.

I looked at the under part of the bridge at least five times and nothing. Just an empty dark area. I wanted to double check it was my imagination but what freaked me out was. You could only get onto the trail from a path leading down and to the road near the former Rotten Park Road station site or by going under the bridge I went under. The only people on that trail was the lady with the Shepard but they were heading back towards the road and a jogger heading the same way. I was freaked out and the fact you could not even see eyes or even hands freaked me out. I could have sworn I saw ears on the creature or thing.

I took my final photos and left the park. After telling my dad and mom when I got home. They were skeptical about my story due to it being possibly the average trail robber or thief but I swore I saw no eyes or even hands. It had a body just like a body builder and was nothing more than a black mass. I uploaded my encounter on Facebook to a Birmingham Railway Group. A man who I will not give his real name so lets call him Trevor for protection.

Trevor told me in a comment and I will quote the comment he made to my post below.

It’s haunted. It’s well noted in books. The haunted Birmingham book by Rachel Bannister has a piece in it about it and it’s on various web pages. Apparently it’s haunted by a large black cat/dog like creature it’s been spotted at various points along there up to the over bridge in Harborne. People also get a immense feeling of dread at certain points and feelings that they are being watched especially between Portland Road and Hagley Road under bridges. Hope this helps”

I got goosebumps that it was documented and happened near to where I was when I encountered it. I replied what I saw and he told me he used to work at strange hours near the old railway track and could have sworn when he was the last one on site. He heard howling and although it could be just animals. They came from off the trail and if he and the comment he made including my sighting are anything to go off. The Harborne Trail is haunted by an unknown thing maybe a creature of unknown origins or even another creature already documented like the Dogman or a Skinwalker.

Either way all I know is for sure, I better keep an ear out on my surroundings when next venturing on a railway line in the middle of nature. This world is definitely not fully discovered. Whether your an avid nature walker or just the type that walks these with friends. Keep an eye out on your surroundings and don’t ignore your instinct.

I will provide an image of near where it happened but I have not got a great camera on my phone. Thanks for reading and always remember that somethings are unexplained and do your research into your sightings. Others may have experienced it or it could be documented in a local newspaper but do not reject others honesty unless you know it is just make believe.

Credit to Wikipedia for the photo: This was the bridge I saw the thing and went under to other side where the fence is and gate.

Small Town Haunts

This happened 7 years ago, so bare with me. I moved a lot as a kid. I ended up going to 3 different elementary schools. At my favorite school, in a super small town, all the kids would claim it was haunted. I’ve always been a skeptic, even back then. I knew it wasn’t true until something happened to me.

Anyways, I need to give a little explanation about a thing my school did. If we were doing exceptionally well in class, a teacher would give you a slip of paper called a “High Five,”. You got to save them, and at the end of the month there would be a little store full of dollar store toys and crap. I still have a bracelet I got from one of those.

So, my class was out at recess, and one of the recess monitors gave me a High Five slip. I don’t remember what for, but that isn’t important. I asked my teacher if I could go inside and put my slip away in my desk. She said it was okay and I headed in. My classroom was super dark, and just plain creepy to a 3rd grader. I sat in the back and had to walk a ways to my desk. I felt my arms go numb as I slipped my High Five in my desk. It felt like someone was poking me with a safety pin on my neck. I was alone in that classroom, not even our teacher was there.

This was the start our little paranormal club that I hosted for the rest of the year. We had shadow figure sightings, haunted bathroom stalls, everything you could think of. Hell, one of my classmates saw red glowing eyes from under the stairs. Everything was a conspiracy at that point. We had a giant tree fall over in a storm, so naturally my little crew and I checked it out and blamed it on some evil spirit or something.

My Weird House in Illinois

In 2007, I was 17 when my parents bought a house from an older widow lady in a small town in Illinois. The house was built in the 1940’s and had been built by the widow’s husband. It was three stories and very nice considering its age, although the paint choices for every room, including the basement, were pretty awful. My mom and her friend had to scrub down and repaint the living room walls before we moved in as they were coated in nicotine from the widow’s husband smoking for years and years and it was pretty grimy. We lived there for about 5 years, and over the course of that time, a lot of strange things happened.

I don’t really remember the first time we started noticing weird things happening around the house. I do know that it began by smelling cigarette smoke. We would be sitting in the living room watching TV at night (windows closed), and the smell of fresh smoke would suddenly be very overwhelming. It was there one moment, and would be gone the next. My dad was the first to remind us that the old man who had lived there before had smoked.

Every morning, before I left for school, my mom would sit on my bed and we’d talk while I was getting ready. One morning we were doing just that, she on my bed, me in front of my mirror, brushing my hair with my back to her. I was turning to say something and in the hallway outside my door I saw a tall skinny black figure with no legs below the knees. I remember faltering in my words and my mom asking me if I was alright. She said that my face had lost all color and she started asking, ” What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! ” I told her and I started bawling my eyes out like a weirdo because it was so unexpected and startling, to say the least. I don’t recall what happened after that, I think we just sort of brushed it off, although she made me tell my dad later on. I know he was understandably freaked out like the rest of us.

My  mom used to babysit a few kids in the house, and I often helped her after school and on my days off. Two of the kids I had known their entire lives and we’d practically raised them. When I was in high school, I loved making short films, and the kids wanted to help me do one, so I cast them as ” ghost kids ”, with my dad as the main character whose house was haunted. We were having fun and it was coming together alright, but I noticed that my camera and other things kept coming up missing in my room. I would lay it down on the TV stand in my bedroom and would find it somewhere else later after frantic searching. After this happened several times, I decided to stop the movie.

Another thing that happened that really scared the heck out of me was when my mom had started babysitting a new kid. His mom was kind of a shifty person and we couldn’t really ever rely on her to arrive when she said she would. One morning in the summer, she said she would bring him around 9 or so. I had the front door open so I could hear when they came, and let them in. A little after 9, as I was walking through the living room, I heard a noise at the front door and as I approached I saw the kid in a bright yellow T-shirt reaching for the door handle with his face turned like he was waiting for his mom. I went over to the door, and I swear THERE WAS NO ONE THERE. I thought I was losing my mind. I opened the door and looked all over but there was no one in sight. Here is the weirdest part: that kid and his mom never showed up, she never called my mom again, and never answered the phone after my mom tried calling her several times. It really scares me because even to this day, I wonder what happened to him.

One night, alone in my room, I felt someone tug on the bottom of my shirt; I was once in the kitchen and heard the back screen door whip open when it was shut. These things, though unnerving, were nothing compared to what would come.

In 2009, my grandma passed away from cancer; my grandpa had the beginning stages of dementia, and was neglecting himself and their pets in his grief. They’d lived in the country and had several cats and two outdoor dogs. When we had to put my grandpa in a nursing home, my dad saved as many of the pets as he could by adopting them out, however, my grandma’s dog Molly came home with us. I swear that dog was one of the sweetest animals to have lived. She had been an outdoor dog her entire life, so my dad kept her under the carport behind our house, and always brought her inside if it was too cold. On those cold days, I would often go down to the basement to visit Molly and hug and pet her in between doing the laundry. I loved listening to her claws click on the cement floor. She was a huge fluffy dog, though we never knew what breed. If I was ever sad, she would always lick my face when I cried. She was an amazing animal. It was the first of February and a huge blizzard was going to blow in. I was downstairs doing laundry and my dad went out to get Molly. I was in the basement and I heard a weird noise. My dad is a goofball and I thought he was fake-crying, which he does shockingly often, but he opened the basement door and called down to me to come upstairs because Molly was dying. He was sitting on his knees beside her on the kitchen floor as she was gasping and twitching. We gathered around her and stroked her fur, telling her what a good girl she was and that we loved her. Molly died right there on the kitchen floor.

My family took Molly’s death very hard; not only had she been a great dog, but she had been my grandma’s dog, too, which made it all the more difficult because it was sort of like losing my grandma all over again. Maybe a week or two after we’d lost Molly, I was down in the basement doing laundry (again), when I heard something that still puzzles me to this day–claws clicking on the cement floor. It sounded just like Molly.

I want to say around 2010, my mom started babysitting a seven week old baby. He had this disease where he was allergic to a myriad of things, including his mother’s breast milk, but at the time no one knew that he was sick and in constant pain, so that kid SCREAMED. It was one of the worst sounds anyone could ever hear, a horrible screeching wail because he hurt and didn’t understand why, and of course couldn’t explain it.

One afternoon, I was babysitting the baby and two older kids by myself. The older ones were sitting in my dad’s big recliner, vegging out watching cartoons. The baby was hungry and was doing his ear-splitting screech. I laid him in his baby doughnut cushion as I hurried off to prepare a bottle of his special formula that he was on at the time. I was running back and forth between fixing the bottle and checking the baby; I’d popped a pacifier in his mouth and ran to the kitchen, however when I peeked around the counter, he’d spit it out down by his feet and, of course, at the time didn’t have the motor skills to bend down and grab it for himself. The older kids were ignoring him entirely and I was becoming frazzled. The way I had to warm up his bottle was by sticking it in a pan of water on the stove for a minute or so, so I couldn’t leave it at that moment. As I was standing there, I smelled cigarette smoke. In the other room, I heard the baby grow silent and begin to make comforted little squeaks as he did when he was given his bottle.

When the bottle was ready, I headed into the living room to find the two older kids in the same place I’d left them, mouths still agape as they watched TV. The baby’s pacifier was in his mouth. I picked him up and began feeding him his bottle. I asked the little girl watching TV who had given the baby his pacifier. She was so engrossed she ignored me. I said her name a little louder and asked if she had done it; she said no. I asked her brother if he had done it…no. My brain short-circuited a bit after that, I think. I was terrified and amazed at the same time. There was no way the baby could have grabbed it for himself, but it was just the four of us in the house, and the two other kids weren’t even paying attention to anything but their show.

When the baby was a little older, we all noticed that he was infatuated with a specific corner on the living room ceiling. He would stare at it for ages and laugh and smile. It was creepy. We tried to lighten the mood by saying that he had an angel in the corner. One day I was holding him, bouncing around and singing to him. His eyes fastened on the corner and his eyes lit up. He started laughing and reached his hand up. I asked him if he could see his angel. Not even lying–that kid freaking turned in my arms, his arm outstretched, and he followed the path of SOMETHING across the ceiling. My stomach dropped as I racked my brain for what the heck he could possibly be seeing. There was no light on the ceiling, nothing.

Not long before we moved out of the weird house, a family we knew had asked my mom to take care of their new baby for a few hours. We brought out the old playpen that was no longer in use, and Mom parked it in the corner most convenient–THE corner. Once again, I found myself in a familiar scenario. I was fixing a bottle for the baby as she was howling and I noticed she had gone silent. I went in to find her gaze fixated on that same corner of the ceiling, a huge grin on her face.

We moved to a normal home not long after, and everything was peaceful after that. I did start working for a nursing home a few years after that, and experienced a lot of freaky stuff there, but those are stories for another time.

Sheev Talks

This happened over the most recent summer, during 2017. I had just passed my Sophomore year of high school by a hair, and I was now free enough to get work. I was sixteen, so I was feeling confident that I would be hired somewhere, and I needed the money if I was going to start saving for college. I also had a YouTube channel (and still do) but I wasn’t making enough to support myself, or pay for my tuition.

Despite all of the jobs I applied for at various businesses, I was turned down by every single one of them, and I was beginning to become desperate. Summer was nearly halfway over, and if I didn’t make money now, I wouldn’t have time to work during the school year. I eventually was forced to cave, and resort to taking a job as a babysitter, which I’d been warned to never do. My mother had once been a babysitter, and she says that to this day, it was the worst job she’s ever had.

Mom told her friend from work, who we’ll call Charlene, so that her name remains anonymous, that I was looking for work as a babysitter, because Charlene had always been complaining that she can never find a cheap enough sitter to watch her son, who we’ll call Joey. I didn’t like settling for cheap pay, but I realized if I charged as much as the professionals, there would have been no point in hiring me, which was why I settled for three dollars an hour.

The following evening would be my first night watching Joey. Charlene was having to work the late shift, and she wouldn’t be home until nearly 2:30 AM. I was willing to stay up until then, and even brought over a book to keep entertained. I was in the middle of Star Wars: Aftermath, and I knew this would be the perfect opportunity to get it done. Charlene told me to have Joey to bed by 10:30, to help myself to anything in the fridge, and that Joey and I could basically do whatever we wanted as long as we were in the house by 9:00. I wasn’t sure why, but she drastically stressed to me that Joey wasn’t to be out after 9.

After that she left, and Joey and I were left alone. We decided to play board games for a couple of hours, and then, after heating up the leftover pizza in the refrigerator, we sat in front of the TV and watched Spongebob for the rest of the night. At 10:00, I told a reluctant Joey that it was time for bed, so he brushed his teeth, got in his pajamas and went into his room.

After he went to bed, I read a few chapters of my book, and then turned on the TV to watch some Tonight Shows. At around midnight, I went to check on Joey. I wanted to make sure he’d really gone to sleep, because I was sure his mom would be mad if she came home in the middle of the night and her son was still awake. But when I went to turn the knob, it was locked.

I wasn’t sure if Joey was allowed to lock himself in his room, but I didn’t want to ask him, and risk waking him up if he was asleep, and I didn’t want to be that babysitter who panders the parents with questions while they’re out, so I didn’t want to bother Charlene while at work, even though she told me to call her if there was any issue. I decided to just leave it the way it was, and if Charlene asked me why his door was locked, I would pretend to have no idea what she was talking about.

I went back to the living room to continue watching my shows, and about a half hour later, I heard the most piercing sound reach my ears. I swear, my eardrums might have bled. It came from Joey’s room. More specifically, it came from Joey. He was screaming at the top of his lungs in the most high-pitched screech, and it caught me completely off guard. I nearly toppled over on the couch.

The screaming became louder, and it wouldn’t stop, and I ran for his room, trying with all of my might to get in. The door was still locked, and what was worse: it was now scorching. It branded my hand, seething my palm the moment I touched it, and I yanked it back. I began pounding on the door, telling Joey to let me in, but I was sure he had no control over this situation. His scream intensified, and I began to grow more and more worried. What was happening in there?

I began kicking at the door, and when it wouldn’t budge, I went all the way down to the end of the hallway, and bolted toward the door, gathering all of my strength. I slammed my shoulder into the door, and with the combination of force between my weight and my strength, I knocked the door off of its hinges. I fell to the floor, but was instantly back to my feet, and what I saw the moment I looked at the bed sent chills down my spine.

Hovering over Joey, who was no longer screaming, but was now crying, was an entity of pure evil. It was all black, with no face, but I could tell it looked at me by the way its-I don’t want to necessarily call it a head, but its head-churned in my direction. It wasn’t really a tangible thing, more like a shadow, and I could feel its darkness split open my soul. It pointed at me, to my own horror, and then zoomed in my direction, going directly through me and hurrying out into the dark hallway.

When it went through me, it was the first time in my life I felt so empty, as if all of my life had just been drained from my body, and I dropped to my knees. Joey was still crying, but he seemed to take comfort in my presence. We just stared at each other for a moment, before I pulled out my phone and called the police, and then Charlene. The cops asked us a bunch of questions, but Joey refused to speak, and I was forced to tell them everything, although I was sure they didn’t believe me. They left before Charlene even showed up, because she and my mom worked at a brewery way far out from civilization.

When Charlene arrived, I told her everything that happened, and she seemed to already know everything I was going to say. I demanded to know what that thing was, but she instead rushed me out of the house, and told me to never come back. To this day, months later, I still don’t know what it was I saw that night, and I hope I never see it again.

Something Very Malicious Followed us

first, a little about myself, I’m 18 years old, male, don’t do any drugs, do drink a little bit.

so a few nights ago, me and a few friends were invited to party, (you know, stay up stupid late and get drunk in a park, that sort of thing) at about 10:30 at night, one of my friends (ill call him James) said he was going to leave to go buy Marijuana off a dealer. me and another friend, (joe?) decided to go with him as he was very drunk, and we both wanted to make sure he was okay. (I myself had only had a little to drink, I don’t normally go to these things, and had only come to hang out with a few old friends I hadn’t seen in ages).

We got there ok and did the deed without incident, on our way back I rolled my friends a crappy joint (they were both really messed up and at this point I was kinda sober sitting them), we missed the bus on the way back, so we decided to walk back, at my friends suggestion, we cut through a graveyard, I was very careful to avoid stepping on where people were buried, but my friends, being the drunk, high morons there were, decided to jump from headstone to headstone while saying really vile things about the people buried below them.

At first I didn’t think much of what they had done, it was definitely in poor taste, but I obviously didn’t think much would come of it. A couple blocks later, James started begging me to roll him another joint, so we decided to go sit down behind a local pool. While I rolled the joint, my friend joe held an umbrella over me and the marijuana while James stumbled around smoking a cigarette. I was just finishing up, when everything around us seemed to get distant, and everything went silent, we were beside an air intake, and it all of a sudden shut off, I couldn’t hear anything coming from the nearby road. I looked up at my friends and instantly saw that they had noticed the oddity as well. All of a sudden I felt something brush past my ankle, and we heard four, very loud, distinct bangs, from on the other side of the cement wall we were beside.

I felt really freaked out and just… immensely uneasy, we all decided to get the hell out of there. my feelings were collaborated by my two friends, joe saying that he felt like there was something angry there, and James saying that that space had all of a sudden felt very, very bad.

I felt acutely like I was being watched as we walked away, after we reached the far side of the parking lot, that feeling had blossomed into a feeling of being followed. So I looked behind me, and I caught a very faint… image of the thing. it was too quick for me to really get a good look at it.

it was large, on all fours with a very wide hunched body, and backwards bent legs, like a dogs, with very large paws on it’s rear feet, and appendages similar to hands on it’s front legs. it was very skinny, I could see it’s ribs pretty clearly but it was also sinewy. It was covered in a sparse pitch black fur, with parts of it’s fur missing to reveal a very pale scratched and bloodied skin, it looked almost like this thing had been whipped.  If it stood upright, I believe it would’ve been 7-8 feet tall.

the two things that really stick with me were the fact that the hair on the back of it’s neck was raised, and almost looked sharp, and the fact that it’s eyes were a luminescent red colour that seemed to leave a trail wherever it went.

I just caught a glimpse it, as it darted behind us, and into a bunch of bushes beside the parking lot, I grabbed both my friends, and told them to look behind us. I pointed at it, and we all saw the eyes, they both wrote it off as a parked car’s tail lights through the bushes, as the thing stayed perfectly still, and blended into the shrubs perfectly. we kept walking, me ahead of the other two, at this point I started drinking, as I was stressed about whatever it was, and I was trying to convince myself it wasn’t real. When we got back to the park we were all at, my friend Joe said that he heard heavy, fast footsteps behind us, and a few minutes later, my friend James said that he heard two voices talking, both me and joe were silent, and had been pretty much so since the parking lot. A few moments later, I heard the voices too, they were low sharp whispers that were speaking very fast and angrily. at this point we were all spooked, and were happy to get back to everybody else.


After doing a bit of digging around, I’ve decided that this… thing was most likely a hellhound, or a demon of some sort. the fact that something  brushed my leg, and then knocked on the other side of a wall, with no easy access to, eliminates the possibility of it being anything physical. and lends itself to a more ethereal or paranormal explanation

two things further have happened since the incident,

firstly, I have had incredibly lucid, detailed and dark dreams about my friends and loved ones being possessed and tormented by a very evil being with a specific name I remember clearly, but wont mention here. and second, I still feel like it is watching me, waiting outside my home.

don’t disrespect the dead. There are things out there that do not take lightly to such things.

Thanks for reading this, (if ya did) I just wanted to share this somewhere, as I’m still very shaken from this. (I’m venting TBH) I know what I saw. I know I wasn’t hallucinating. before this I didn’t really believe in the paranormal. and again, I don’t do drugs, only drink, and I was pretty much sober when this happened.

if you’d like a more detailed description of this incident, feel free to contact me via email.