Day 2,392

There's more to the old church on the outskirts of Abbots Brakewater than first meets the eye. It might look like your typical 17th century squares and ramparts on the outside but head to bell tower and you'll find a smallish oak door and worn stone steps leading down into the graveyard.

Now, somehow you won't stumble over any fallen coffins or old bones in the chambers beneath the church. You will, however, come across aforementioned vaulted chambers overgrown with roots and vines and a faint blue-tinged light shining from somewhere above you.

In a chamber nearby you'll hear running water - a river or waterfall - but it's always nearby and never actually seen. Touring all seven chambers takes maybe two hours and it only leads you in a large circle beneath the unassuming church. Still it feels like if you go round it one more time you'll find something more.

You won't - they never do. The pastor doesn't even admit that there's faces that peer out from the hollow cavity where the virgin Mary's own dear face is supposed to be, let alone the existence of seven vaulted chambers beneath his own little church. 

You'll want to take him down there, to make him see it with his own eyes and believe that there is something more to be seen but when you show him the door by the bell tower it won't be there. It never is when he's around - something about that place below only calls to true believers.

Anyone can wear a collar and call themself holy.

Anything can walk into a church if the ground's not actually consecrated.