I live in a town called Bury, north of Manchester in England. It’s a rather peaceful town, not much happens. We are all normal people with normal lives, so this event was so strange that I HAD to share it somewhere.
This happened about 2 weeks ago, it was a normal day. I was meeting with some of my best friends and we were going to Dow Lane, a popular park in town, it’s not much – just a long greenery with trees and a footpath to one side with a wooden fence next to it protecting a private reserve. I’m not saying I cared much for that fence, but when we reached Dow Lane we noticed some graffiti tags had defaced the entire thing. It was a simple but sinister face, one large circle with two small circles for eyes and a cross for a mouth painted with black and blue spray paint, sometimes the faces were accompanied by the letters ‘BH’.
At first me and my friends didn’t take note of the tag, it could be a bunch of kids with spray paint being ‘artistic’ again, which was not an unheard of thing locally speaking. However as we followed the path further along towards the stream at the end, we saw the tag more often, on the fence again, on an old burned park bench behind the line of trees that hid it from the play area and faded but visible on the gravel path itself; at this point we knew something was interesting here. Somebody had gone to all that effort for a simple (ugly) tag.
At the time I didn’t think to take a photograph of the tags, we simply left them and went and sat on the park’s play area for a while; I know it’s for kids’ use but it was the only place in the entirety of Dow Lane that had a bench that wasn’t burned. So we sat there for a while, maybe 20 minutes, waiting for a latecomer to join us. Marcel took a while to get here of course, typical for him, but this time his ability to be behind time spared him a truly strange encounter. When I was talking to one of the friends in our group, he froze and looked over my shoulder and said “who’s that?”, I turned to look at what he was seeing and what I saw was a man, about 6 feet tall wearing blue pants, a blue jacket, black gloves and a hood that covered his face entirely. He stared at us and as the rest of the group began to stare back, he turned and disappeared behind the treeline near the burned bench I mentioned previously.
Thinking it was likely some drug addict hiding away to smoke his herb or whatever, we soon left the park and went home. To be honest I didn’t really think much of this guy even at this point, but something about him had an atmosphere, something ominous that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
The next day was a Monday, I’m in Year 11 at a high school not far from Dow Lane. As I made my way to school I passed through the Dow Lane area again, I noticed that there were more tags of the same cheaply painted black and blue face accompanied by the letters ‘BH’. I thought it was weird that between me being there the day before and then now, the person responsible for those tags came back and that they were obviously local enough to return to the site. Something about it creeped me out. Then I thought about that blue hood guy and then remembered the letters ‘BH’. The blue hood guy wore mostly blue with black accents, the letters ‘BH’ were painted next to a tag that was black and blue, the meaning of ‘BH’ suddenly felt obvious to me: blue hood.
I wonder what the blue hood guy was up to, or what he wanted, but I continued on to school, as I passed the dog kennels just up the lane from Dow Lane park, I turned to my left to go up the road and end up on Walshaw Road and walk the 100 meters down to school, but before I could go very far I heard a voice behind me, I couldn’t make out what was said but it was a deep, male voice. I turned around to see the blue hood guy, this time he was literally right in front of me, maybe 10 feet away. I stepped back in confusion, why was this blue hood guy stalking me. Me being only so tall, standing at 5’7″, I didn’t try to outrun him or lash out, but I was so scared I was about to. I simply said: “I saw you at Dow Lane yesterday.”
Without saying a single word, the blue hood guy just nodded slowly, turned and walked away. At his thighs I could see two poles attached to harnesses. Weapons?
Considering that my school isn’t very good with helping kids with just about anything, or caring for that matter, I simply carried on to school and went about my day as I would normally, but at dinner time in the canteen I mentioned it to one of the friends I was with the day before. I told him that I’d seen that blue hood guy again, up close this time. My friend shrugged it off and said that he was simply a weird ‘smackhead’, but he didn’t seem to be under the influence of any drugs when I met him up close. After that I didn’t speak about, see or hear anything about the blue hood for a good few days.
Come Friday of the same week, I met up with a girl; she was nice, I hadn’t been speaking to her for very long but regardless of how long we knew each other, this night would give us the firm means to remember each other by. As we walked down Ainsworth Road, not too far from the other end to Dow Lane than the one where my school was located, we saw six quad-bikes being handled by six rough looking people riding down the road towards town, and behind them was the blue hood guy again on a black motorcycle with no registration plate; he appeared to be chasing the quad-bikers down the road, as they got down the road the quad-bikers turned off down the road back towards the Dow Lane park area but stopped by the Elton Vale Sports Club. By the time we got to the corner, we could see that they had gotten off of their quad-bikes and were stood face to face with the blue hood who was just getting off of his motorcycle. The blue hood stood straight and calm as the quad-bikers approached him. We couldn’t help but stand still and watch and then all of a sudden there was a loud screeching noise, it hurt to hear and rendered all of the quad-bikers screaming and on the floor. I quickly covered my ears and my friend did the same, though it still hurt a lot. The blue hood then got back on his motorcycle and slowly rode to the end of the street back onto Ainsworth Road, near where we were stood, he slowed down more as he got to us and said as he passed us “not quite the kind of music you’re used to, I take it”, in a deep voice. He then turned and sped up the road at some serious speed.
We looked back at the men who were on the ground only moments before, they were recovering, before long they got back on their quad-bikes and rode off back up the road in the same direction the blue hood had gone.
I don’t know what that noise was, or who that blue hood guy is, but it’s been on my mind every day since. It’s only been just over a week since I last saw him, but I’ve heard rumours that he is still active in the area.
Whoever he is, the Borough of Bury appears to be his hunting ground