Shadowed by Sentinel Pines, Furzton

Tonight’s story closes a loop. It marks the end of an era for this project because it’s the very last one from this current batch. Yes, I had such a wonderful initial response to my first call for stories, all the way back in April that it’s taken me this long to catch up! Since this project launched, we’ve heard about poltergeists and the grim reaper, ghost children and the devil in a lightbulb, floating phantoms by the railway and haunting beside a roundabout. I’ve met some incredible people who shared their stories, I’ve visited haunted playgrounds, houses and shops. Thanks to you all, the map is really starting to fill in and as of today, very neatly I’m a quarter of the way there, with twenty-eight squares completed out of the massive one hundred and fourteen I’ve challenged myself to fill. I’ve criss-crossed the city, and like to think I’ve taken all of you with me every time, which means that together, we’ve all walked a frankly amazing 520 miles so far! That’s right: according to my Apple Watch, that’s how far I’ve walked in April, May and June to date combined. I think it might be time to treat myself to some new Sketchers, these ones have seen better days. 

And in another neat loop – and I promise I didn’t deliberately plan it to turn out like this! – we’re talking again to my first ever witness, Anne. I said from the start that Anne had a wealth of compelling stories to share, and tonight’s is no exception. Unlike her previous two stories about the fancy dress shop and a former place of employment, this one happened much closer to home. 

Tonight we’re going over to Furzton, and back to a time when Anne was living on the quirky, charming Nettlecomb street. 

Anne told me: “One night I was in bed on my own and I felt fingers around my ankle. Someone grabbed my ankle. I could feel the pressure of a hand — fingers actually moving.”

She hadn’t thought about it in years. It was her husband who reminded her. But once re-awakened, the memory came back sharp and clear.

“I went frozen solid. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe. I was terrified. I put the quilt over my head and just lay there. I don’t know what it was. I never saw anything.”

Anne is a long-time Milton Keynes resident, a former councillor, and no stranger to the uncanny. But this experience, she said, was different.

“It wasn’t my imagination. I hadn’t gone to sleep yet. I was just lying there, winding down. Then that happened.”

What struck her, and me, most was the physicality of it and that the very real sensation of pressure, digits and movement. This wasn’t a vague dream or the shadowy impression of something. Anne felt a grip. It lasted for minutes, and it terrified her.

It’s interesting that this happened in Furzton, and very close to another story she remembered. We talked it through in detail, but because she lost touch with the person involved a while ago, I’ll give the briefest of summaries to protect their confidence. Anne told me about another Nettlecomb resident who fled their house after waking to see a Roman centurion leaning over their bed. This was someone who didn’t spook easily, but they were so shaken by the incident that they moved away from the area entirely.

Anne can’t help but wonder if the two events were connected.

“Furzton runs right alongside Watling Street. You know, the old Roman road. Maybe it’s all linked.”

Nettlecomb sits close by Furzton’s artificial mound, a landscape feature built in the 1980s that mimics the look of an ancient burial barrow. (I happily admit I’m taking artistic liberties with my cover image! I like to think of the street as spiritually shadowed even if this view is fanciful!)

Though officially modern, it’s drawn its own ghost stories over the years, a place local kids dare each other to climb after dark, silhouetted with its crown of trees against the moonlight. I’d never heard of it, so imagine my surprise when I was aimlessly wandering after taking the shots of the street above and turned a corner to see this! 

Experiences like Anne’s – and John’s from a couple of weeks ago – are sometimes explained by sleep paralysis. This is a phenomenon where the body is frozen in REM sleep while the mind begins to wake. Often, it comes with a crushing sense of dread, a presence in the room, or sensations of touch.

I recently listened to a fascinating discussion on this topic on Nat Doig’s wonderful podcast Weird in the Wade. In an episode titled ‘The Night Hag“, she interviewed renowned parapsychologist Dr Ciarán O’Keeffe, who explains that during sleep paralysis, the brain struggles to make sense of being awake but immobile, often conjuring vivid, frightening sensations to explain the vulnerability. Nat shared her own experience of feeling hands holding her above the bed, underscoring how real these tactile impressions can be, even when they arise internally. They also discussed how context shapes what we perceive: for Nat, 90s TV led to aliens; for others, it might be demons, ghosts, or simply an overwhelming sense of a malevolent presence. Crucially, both emphasised that while there’s a medical explanation for sleep paralysis, the fear it causes is absolutely real, and understanding it can help us approach these experiences with empathy.

For Anne, and for John, their experiences felt utterly real, and both feel sure that there was something more happening than just sleep paralysis. As I’ve said throughout this project, it’s not about looking for proof, it’s about sharing the stories that people tell. Anne experienced something in Nettlecomb she can’t explain, and as of now that experience is forming part of our growing archive of dark tales from this most unexpected of haunted hot-spots. 

So, as one chapter draws closed, another one is starting as I begin to collect more stories through a variety of different channels! They’re already starting to come in, and I’ll soon be back to those local Facebook groups to follow up and start listening again. There are some very exciting things planned in the coming weeks – local radio and press, a talk for Heritage Open Day, a ghost walk for Hallowe’en – and some exciting collaborations that I’ll talk more about when I can. 

For now, I just reflect on what an honour it is to be doing this project, and how incredible it is that so many people have come forward to share their experiences. I can’t wait to find out where the stories will take me next… 

Thank-you to Anne for trusting me again with this story and thank YOU for reading!
If you have a story of your own to share, I’d really love to hear it.