I used to live in Lancashire; A fairly large town in the United Kingdom. On the outskirts of said town and between the passage of a much larger city called Liverpool (Of Beatles fame), there is a tiny village called Hale. I used to go there fairly often; there was a marketplace with a lot of offerings (This was before Supermarkets were common) and many friends lived in the area as well. But what fascinated me most about the place was a tiny, otherwise un-remarkable cottage on the edge of the town. That was the home of John Middleton, a local legend who reportedly went missing. According to folklore, he was around 2.82 m (9 ft. 3 in) and lived around 1756 to about 1804. But this is where it starts to get creepy.

At around 12 o'clock I was awakened by a thumping sound. I presumed it to have been a natural occurrence like something falling over, or footsteps. The latter would have certainly been odd, considering my family (including me) always used to go to bed around the same time. After around twenty seconds, it started to fade. And then nothing was audible, almost like dead silence. I shrugged it off and tried to get some sleep. But before I closed my eyes, I noticed something which was definitely not right. There was a green light, almost in the shape of a figure. I was surprised, and got up to take a closer look. As my eyes adjusted I saw it. A very tall, very decrepit figure staring at me from a small house not too far away.

I don't remember what happened next exactly, but a small fact bothered me. The "small house" was actually a cottage.