The Hags of Merricktown


by Yolanda Sfetsos

“The Hags of Merricktown”

Ghosts and Spirits, Journals and Diaries, Monsters, Strange and Unexplained, rivers, legends, superstition, haunted, supernatural, cursed, old, entity, Paranoia, Nightmare

Written by: ConfusedAF

Estimated reading time – ?

It’s 2am and I’m shaking so bad I can’t get back to sleep. Actually, I can barely breathe because my chest hurts so much, and not just when I take a breath. I feel like someone is constantly pushing against my ribs. Lately, it happens every time I wake up.

I thought posting about what’s happening might help me figure out what’s going on. Maybe someone can tell me what to do because I’m at a total loss. I have a pretty good idea about how this all started, but without video evidence I sound like a paranoid freak with an overactive imagination. I do have photos, though.

It all started about a week ago when I was walking along the river path in the morning. I like to go early to avoid as many people as possible. So, I was strolling along at a good pace, minding my own business, when I caught sight of a weird structure near the trees. It looked like some sort of tent made out of long branches and leaves. I thought it was strange and wondered who made this, but kept moving.

This is what it looked like:

The next day, I spotted another very different structure. This was more like a summoning circle or something freaky like that. I know how that sounds, but you can see what I mean for yourself:

On the third day, I spotted yet another weird stick-like creation across the small reservoir. In a spot where ducks and birds usually congregate. I have no idea how a person managed to get there, let alone set something up.  

Here it is:

That’s when I decided something strange was definitely going on. Well, maybe the fact I started having nightmares and felt like someone was always standing a step behind me had something to do with it too.

So, on the fourth day I decided to do what only an idiot would do and took a peek inside the tent structure. Or rather, stuck my head in between the branches and was greeted with the most awful stench. A cross between rancid BO, garbage and wet earth. A pile of disposable cups from a local café littered the inside. Pastry crumbs were everywhere, and there was a pile of rugs on the bottom. Maybe they were clothes, I don’t know. But everything had gross brown stains. On the way out, I cut my cheek on a spiky end and when I got home, washed my face until my skin was raw.

Don’t even ask me why I did this.

Wish I’d stayed away because I couldn’t get that awful stink out of my nose all morning. That’s how I ended up going to the chemist to buy some nasal spray.

On the way home, the same disgusting smell hit me again. This time it was coming from a bus shelter, and inside were the foul mother-daughter combo that haunt our suburb. These two travel the busways all day and night. They always have take-away cups of coffee in hand. Actually, I saw them with a four-cup cardboard tray and there’s only two of them. They also sit at the bus stop eating pastry. I’m sure I’ve seen them eating in the park by the river, too. I try not to look directly at them because they make my skin crawl. There’s something about these two that always makes me feel like something bad is about to happen.

I think they live in the local government housing complex, and I hate passing the pair because they stink like they haven’t showered in years. And look like they’re wearing rags that drape over their shapeless bodies. The straw-like hair that frames those gaunt and wrinkly faces makes their beady eyes stand out, makes me feel like they’re about to devour my soul.

Anyway, I kept walking, ignoring their gibberish because I’m never sure if they’re talking to me or to each other. They’re not like the usual beggars or homeless that hang out in the streets holding out their hands for coins, or minding their own business as they prepare their makeshift beds under shop awnings.

But this time I dared to look back and found both of them staring right at me. They were glaring so hard they totally missed the bus. Which was probably a good thing for the passengers because sharing public transport with these two is another sort of hell I won’t get into.

That was the first night I had trouble sleeping because my dreams were full of mud and swamps, of slithering creatures who survive in the filth and darkness of the river, but walk our streets on dreary days. That’s also when the pressure started, and I felt like someone was literally shoving mud into my mouth. I couldn’t catch a single breath and didn’t know if I was awake or asleep.

When I finally managed to open my eyes, I was alone. Out of breath and feeling like someone had been sitting on my chest while shovelling shit into my mouth, but alone. And that smell, the one I mentioned above, was in my bedroom. Gosh, I’m getting goose bumps just thinking about it.

After this ordeal, I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to go for my walk much earlier than usual. I needed to clear my head as well as my lungs. By the time I reached the bridge that gets me to the other side, I spotted the women. They were in the park, standing near the tent structure and flinging quick gibberish at each other. I swear they were there one second, and vanished the next.

When I woke up, I found one of those women—the older one—sitting on my chest! Her gaping toothless mouth leaning close to my face as something dark dribbled from her mouth and into mine. The horror of the situation was made worse when I tried to push her off and found that I couldn’t move. I was stuck, my back flat on the mattress while she shovelled shit into me until I passed out.

Now, daylight is slowly seeping in through the bedroom window but it’s doing nothing to settle my nerves or dissolve my fear. I’m standing in front of the wardrobe mirror and can see both of those hags positioned behind me. The older one has her gnarled hand pressed against my left shoulders, the other has hers pushing against my right. But every time I turn around, they’re not there. The longer I stare, the stronger their reflection becomes while mine is starting to fray at the edges.

I feel like I’m unravelling and there’s something squirming inside my stomach, making me feel like I’m about to throw up at any moment. I really don’t know how much longer I can stand this. Or if these hags will ever let me leave this room. Maybe they’ll drag me to their hideout. Not knowing what’s going in is even more terrifying than the crap dribbling out between my lips as I type about my pitiful life on my phone. I hope this account gets posted before I lose total control of myself.  

I’m afraid these creatures will eventually breathe me dry or break my ribcage with their heft. They’ve graduated to both sitting on my chest. I don’t know how they manage this nightmare situation, but I’ve seen it as I lie helpless beneath and my mouth fills up with gunk that later squirms inside me.

Think I’ll go and lie down or I’m going to be sick. I’m starting to feel sleepy again and that stench has returned with a vengeance. Hope someone can help before they

Rating: 6.1/10. From 20 votes.

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Conversation (6)

nocturnALL · 3d ago

Such BS. The story isn’t even done. :/


WellIsHear · 2d ago

boo! weres rest?


hellboner · 2d ago

Great cautionary tale about minding your own business.


CatAnus · 1d ago

demand. more. now. 🙂


yahnah · 17h ago

Hey, are you okay? Did you actually survive?


OuijaBored · 12h ago

Dude, you must be talking about the Hags of Merricktown. I’ve heard of them and their antics. These creatures are bad news and cause sleep paralysis, which is probably why you couldn’t move. You made a mistake looking them in the eye and checking out their home. I hope you finish your story so we can all find out if you’re okay.


            ConfusedAF · 1h ago

h E l p . . .            


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