by FreakedOut on Fri Sep 12, 2003 9:44 pm
I remember, two years ago now, walking down South Street towards the Cathedral end. It was a dark and creepy night in Febuary, I believe. The streets were quiet and empty, and the whole town had become enveloped in a muffling cold fog. Nothing creepy about this fog - it didn't glow green or kill people like in The Fog, but it layered a quilt of hush upon the town.
It was about 10pm and I was walking down the dark and lonely end of South Street, beyond the Byre Theatre and just as I turned the corner to Abbey Road I saw silently gliding through the mist a group of about 7 men. They came walking past the South Street entrance of St. Leonards and something about them raised my hackles, and seemed odd. Then I noticed that the first few - who I could see better than the rest - were wearing what looked like furs. Then it hit me. All of them, without exception, were wearing horned helmets.
It was Thursday night in 2002 and out of the mist, silently like ghosts came 8 or 9 Vikings.
Unfortunatly they were a group of the Fencing club on the piss, but had I been more squemish I could easily have run off and sworn to this day that the ghosts of Vikings, damned for all eternity for their desecration of holy places were wandering the streets of the town they no doubt pillaged.
Thought it made a good story though.