# **24. "The Ghosts of Glencoe" – The Story of Those Who Never Left the Valley**

Although Glencoe is located in Scotland, the legend of its haunting has also spread to southern England through travelers and writers.

The valley, with its steep cliffs, rushing streams, and misty valleys, has been a place of tragedy and betrayal.

Some say Glencoe does not forget.

It does not forgive.

And those who died there centuries ago still walk the valleys—waiting, watching, drawing into their echoes those who dare enter after dark.

### **I**

In 1703, a young Scottish traveler, Alastair MacLeod, set out for Glencoe to uncover the history of the families and clans who lived here.

He traveled alone, with a backpack and a journal, recording every step and every stone that seemed significant to him. One evening, as dusk was falling, Alastair set up camp in a valley, far from the trail.

The fog was thick, and the sounds of the stream echoed between the rocks.

It was then that he heard **voices** for the first time that were not human.

They were not the rushing of the wind or the sounds of animals.

They were whispers, full of anger and despair:

> “Why do you come here…?”

Alastair froze, but replied, his voice trembling:

“I only wish to know the history of this place.”

The whispers repeated themselves in a chorus of lamentation, and the fog thickened, as if reacting to his presence.

### **II**

The following days brought increasingly strange events.

The voices became clearer, and the shadows on the hills took on the shapes of people who had never existed in the present.

Alastair saw women and men in the garb of ancient clans, marching to the rhythm of long-forgotten footsteps.

He didn't speak to them, understanding they were no ordinary people.

They were ghosts of the past, lingering in the valley, drawing in anyone who dared observe their world.

One night, he heard a rustle behind him and spun around.

A man in traditional Scottish garb stood by the stream, but his face was invisible.

Alastair felt his own heart beat in time with the stream and the valley, as if the valley itself controlled his body.

"You can't leave until you hear us," whispered a voice that seemed to come from both air and earth simultaneously.

### **III**

Mist enveloped the valley completely.

Alastair lost all sense of direction.

The paths he knew suddenly vanished.

The valley's corridors seemed endless.

Each step took him deeper, and the shadows took on the shapes of his own fears and memories.

At night, new voices arose: children playing among the ruins of houses, laughter that was also a lament.

Alastair felt himself becoming part of this story, living not in time but in the space of the past.

He was no longer a traveler.

He was a witness.

And the witness wouldn't let go.

### **IV**

After several weeks of trying to find him, no one found him.

Traces of a camp occasionally appeared in the valley, a freshly lit fire, a journal with drawings of stones and landscapes—but Alastair had vanished without a trace.

The locals claim that when the mist descends on the valley, figures can be seen moving slowly among the hills.

Some say they hear whispers in the language of long-vanished clans, and eyes in the darkness watch anyone who dares to look too long.

Alastair is still there.

Dead, yet not dead. He has become part of Glencoe, and his eyes see all the future stories the valley wants to tell.

> "Don't just look at the stones... listen to the valley... because if you do, it hears you."

--