There's been someone knocking from underneath the church floor again and every time we open it we all get a glimpse of the same thing. Countless bodies, some decaying while others breathe their last and succumb like all the rest in their unconsecrated burial pit.
It's over as soon as you blink, then all we see is the cheery blue-tinted waters of the baptismal pool.
The vicar's tried to cleanse the place time and time again and it does us no good. In England you can turn over a log and find an old plague pit. It's what makes all the roadworks take years longer than it should. Any time they stumble across a few hundred bones all meshed together they have to call in the historians, the police and the occasional priest.
Doesn't help but they try their best.
Seems that when a body's been buried you can't just bless their restless soul away, once they're restless they stay restless and the best you can hope for is that enough of them get bored and drag the others with them to wherever they choose to go.
Until they they'll bang on the floor and beg for a doctor that can't cure them.
It's over as soon as you blink, then all we see is the cheery blue-tinted waters of the baptismal pool.
The vicar's tried to cleanse the place time and time again and it does us no good. In England you can turn over a log and find an old plague pit. It's what makes all the roadworks take years longer than it should. Any time they stumble across a few hundred bones all meshed together they have to call in the historians, the police and the occasional priest.
Doesn't help but they try their best.
Seems that when a body's been buried you can't just bless their restless soul away, once they're restless they stay restless and the best you can hope for is that enough of them get bored and drag the others with them to wherever they choose to go.
Until they they'll bang on the floor and beg for a doctor that can't cure them.
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