Tales of the supernatural crowd in the coastal plains of South Carolina and Georgia, USA, whose haunting landscapes will enervate even the foremost sceptical visitant.
The city, based in 1670, is one in all the oldest in America. Its historic centre is delicately preserved and, at night, spookily quiet. A Dickensian mist drifts between the homes. With its 18th- and 19th-century buildings, and silent gas-lit streets, town resembles tub or metropolis, however fan palm trees and live oaks provides it an odd swampiness. because the darkness deepens, it takes an explicit courageousness to enter one in all the numerous downtown graveyards. The fog and therefore the unsteady shadows will simply fool the attention into thinking it's seen one thing uncanny. This strange combination additionally reflects the region's heritage: settled by land, engineered and created made by generations of African slaves.
Outside the recent Charleston Jail, a tiny low cluster is gathering for a night tour. It's a forbidding turreted structure, ugly with rusty iron supports, its slim windows heftily barred. throughout its time as a penal facility, thousands of individuals died here, from illness or starvation, or dead on the gallows tree that has left Associate in Nursing imprint in its curtilage. It's not shocking that it's a name because the most haunted building within the state. However, it strikes ME as a touch odd that a part of it currently homes the yank faculty of the Building Arts. As night falls, the scholars scuttle home and curious guests are available the hope of a magical encounter.
'A heap of the freshmen doesn't believe ghosts,' says Sean Pike, the guide who's leading this evening's tour. 'But I ne'er met a senior WHO didn't.' Sean's own conversion from scepticism came in 1998 once he passed the building at night-time Associate in Nursing saw a girl searching of a window from a higher area that he knew had no floor.
As we tend to explore the dark interior of the silent building, the stagnant air and therefore the tales of its gory history square measure cumulatively oppressive. In one area, there's a cage that command condemned prisoners; in another, graffiti scraped into the walls by convicts. On the iron stairs that after crystal rectifier right down to the gallows tree, the thirteenth tread is unweather - the doomed men wouldn't tread on it.