My reasons for undertaking this work is to tell the truth about what happened at Banbury Cross. Much has been written and reported that at best smacks of sensationalism and at worst is simply untrue.

Although the events that occurred there were bizarre and unique the hype and propaganda that was spread after the story broke was hurtful, not only to my career as a journalist, but also to the innocent people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, by no choice of their own.

I will begin at the start of my involvement and will tell you only what I know as fact. Any opinions stated within these pages happen to belong only to the author.

I thank you for reading this report – and congratulate you for taking the time to hear the story from someone who was there on the ground – and experienced some of the most wonderful and at the same time terrifying moments of their life.

Best,

Anna Terrence

*

Chapter One – The Scoop

In 2016 I was three years into my career as a writer for the New York based paranormal investigative magazine “The Gnosis”. I had seen and written about many things that could not be explained by common sense or science – hauntings, ufos, Sasquatch, demons and even a leprechaun like entity terrorizing a small town in Ireland (“End of The Rainbow” Gnosis Magazine April 2014).

My editor, Tony Mathis, had grown to respect me as one the most well researched and articulate reporters in his bullpen, second only to Sam Norton – Sam, as you may remember broke the story about the Tamala Richards possession (“Devil’s Plaything” Gnosis Magazine, February 2012) and became a household name.

On October 5th I was called into Tony’s office as soon as I arrived at the office. I was a little hung over having gone out with some girlfriends the night before to celebrate a friends engagement. After gathering a notebook and popping a few Advil I sauntered in.

“You look like you had a good time last night, Terrence.” Tony said.

“A little too good really, what’s up?” I sat down across from Tony and put my notebook on his desk.

“We have a really interesting story – it has come to us through a few reliable sources, a bizarre and intriguing situation.” He clicked his mouse and stared intently at the monitor in front of him.

“What is it? Vampires, ghouls? ‘Tis the season…” I joked.

Tony turned his monitor toward me, “The place is called Banbury Cross….” He had a map up on the screen – Upstate New York. “I…” I started.

“Look, I understand,” he interrupted, “you don’t want to go up there again, but you are the only one I can trust with this one Anna.”

It had been two years since my experience with the Demon of Siskitch – in Upstate New York and the very thought of returning to that part of the state made my blood chill.

“I don’t think we’ll be dealing with anything paranormal here,” he continued, “it sounds like this may be some sort of cult.”

The apprehension I felt instantly lifted, the majority of my academic career had focused on the psychology of cults and my masters thesis was about the interpersonal relationships that developed amongst the members of Jonestown cult.

“Ok. What is the intel?”

“Well, we have information that dozens of young men between the age of 18 and 25 who have passed through Banbury Cross – often with their girlfriends and sometimes with parents have refused to leave the small town after spending the night. Sometimes they disappear, sometimes they just refuse to leave. It is one of the strangest tips we have ever received. These friends and family members sometimes receive postcards or short letters from these young men, but never phone calls….” Tony threw a dossier onto the desk in front of me.

I opened the package and pulled out a stack of papers. On the first page was a photo of young man, he couldn’t have been more than 20. Stark black hair, a few locks hanging over his dark and penetrating eyes.

It is almost embarrassing, it is so trite, but his eyes felt like they were looking into me.

“Who… who… is this?” I mustered while reluctantly breaking my gaze with the young man who, given my age, could have very well been my son.

Mathis took the photo from my hand, “Oh, that’s Devin McNerra, he went to Banbury with his girlfriend, Megan something-or-rather and she said that after a night at a the local theater…” Tony rifled through his stack of papers, “… the Devil’s Playhouse production of ‘A Midsummer’s Night Dream’ they went back to their hotel room, fucked, well she said ‘made love’,” he flashed quotes with his fingers, “and when she woke up in the morning he was gone.”

A hot shiver ran through me, “How old is he?”

Tony flipped a papers about again, “Says here he’s eighteen.”

The shiver ran deeper and hotter, this time with a mighty dose of shame. Tony handed the photo back and I did not look at it, instead pushing it back into the envelope.

“Take a look in there,” Tony pointed to the package, “there are a shitload of ’em.”

I reached in and pulled out the stack of photographs. Each photo featured a young man more physically striking than the next. Ridiculously handsome features, hair flowing free but not unruly, and the eyes. Again, it is embarrassing, the eyes of each young man. Their eyes all felt like I may have known them from a dream, and not a particularly pure dream, if you know what I mean. With each photo I kept getting tingles and chills. These pictures of these bizarrely striking boys were literally making me wet. Each one more than the one before.

After making it through about seven photos I tried to play it cool and put the photos back in the package. I was almost shaking, not of fear and not of excitement, but some strange combination of both I had never felt.

“Rougher night than I realized Anna.” Mathis chuckled noticing my tremors.

I drew a deep breath, “Yeah, Christ Tony – when do I need to be there?”

“Take the rest of the day, gather yourself, read everything, pack enough for a week and come here to check in with me in the morning?”

“You got it.” I stood up and walked out of the office praying to whatever God there may be that my excitement wasn’t visible through my white slacks.

“Hey Terrence,” I froze, “maybe take it easy on the sauce tonight.”

****

Thankfully, with morning rush hour over, traffic wasn’t bad. My mind was not able to focus on the road. The boys from the photographs were absolutely haunting me. Each photo rotated through my minds eye. I wanted each of them. All of them. I wanted their flesh on mine and their mouths on me. I wanted my mouth on them, I wanted to have one in my hand as another entered me from behind, while another caressed my hair and ran his hand across my back.

I was as if a fever of some sort was created by the very images of these missing boys, all so young, full of life and all so magnetic. Filled with shame and desire I continued to shake, taking deep breaths in an attempt to make it home safe.

****

When I made it up to my apartment I put the dossier on the dining room table, and bee lined to the shower. The water was good. I had a moment where I considered the idea that the whole thing with the young men from the photos had been some sort of seizure – some sort of strange reaction to overdoing it last night and, maybe, ibuprofen? The shower was washing away my lust – or whatever it was – and my mind wandered to my sister Nicole’s son, Nathan. The guilt weighed on me as I let the steaming water hit my face.

About a year ago when I visited Nicole, her husband Jerome and Nathan for Christmas I accidentally caught him coming out of the shower. He had a towel on, it was perfectly innocent and he was perfectly polite and I felt terrible. Still I thought about him, the way his muscular body looked for a few days. It gave me a little tingle when I did – but I had never done anything about it – and I mean I didn’t do anything about by myself if you know what I mean. I didn’t masturbate about him or anything, ever. He just gave me a little zip for a moment you know?

The situation began to play in my mind, it was late, Nancy and Jerome had turned in upstairs. I had been watching crappy TV in the guest room in the basement. It was a fantastic finished basement, full kitchenette, wet bar, full bathroom and Nathan’s room – kept for him for when he visited from college.

I was vaguely aware that Nathan had returned from hanging out with his buddies, but was pretty engrossed in the garbage TV I never have a chance to watch when I am in the city. I may have heard the shower, I am not certain, but I was watching Jimmy Bob accuse Dirty McGirty of some sort of heinous offense and was loving it. I had Ice Cream left! I had bought a pint of Ben & Jerrys the day before, but had only finished half.

I put on my nightgown and stepped into the dark hall. It was quiet. The little light in the kitchen guided me. After just a few steps a door opened into the hall. Steam poured out. Nathan was rubbing his face. No shirt. A towel wrapped around his waist. I couldn’t help but let out a yelp.

“Anna!” He said and stepped back toward the bathroom, “I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep.”

I quickly played it off with a signature fake chuckle I had developed from years as a journalist, “It’s ok Nathan – just scared me.” I fixed my gaze toward the guiding light of the kitchen.

“What are you afraid of?” His voice cut through the steamy air.

I kept my gaze fixed on the kitchen, but froze in place, “Wha- what?”

“Oh dear Aunty Anna,” his voice became deeper and darker, “what were you afraid of Nathan for?”

I looked towards him, the light that had been spilling out of the bathroom was gone, replaced by a gauzy blue glow. His silhouette was taller now, and his towel had dropped to the floor. He stepped towards me.

“No, Nathan I -” the light from the kitchen hit his face, it was Devin McNerra, the boy from the photograph.

He made another step toward me, “I’m not going to hurt you Anna, you know that right?”

I knew it. I could feel it, but my already frazzled nervous system teetered on the edge of panic, “Devin?” I asked.

The stepped toward me again and was nearly in my face – he reached out and ran his hand through my hair, electricity ran through my body and I was instantly wet. “Devin was his name before, but not any longer.”

I looked into his eyes. I was overwhelmed with lust as he stared at me, I had know idea what he was talking about. Then I heard him speak to me in my mind, “What do you want right now Anna? I will give it to you.”

I could not lie, I was mesmerized and on the verge on not being able to control myself. “You know what I want.” I thought back at him.

He ran his hands down my arms and my robe fell to the ground. He looked me deep in the eye and said/thought “I am going to give you what you want now. When the time comes you will destroy the angel demon and the robed one.” He stepped ever closer and spoke directly into my ear, his hot breath sending direct electricity to my pussy, “They will do whatever you want, you will know no greater pleasure, but it is a lie, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

With a sudden fell swoop he whipped me around against the wall, shoved my panties down and spread my legs. He dropped to his knees behind me, put one hand on the small of my back and the other on the back of my thigh and ran his warm, wet, rough tongue incredibly slowly from my clit over my pussy and up to my ass.

I came to in the shower in my apartment. My hands on the shower head above me, hot water raining down on my face, surrounded by steam, cumming harder than ever before in my life and sobbing.

*****

To be continued