Throughout history, every culture and age has told stories of hauntings visitations from beyond the grave. Whatever your beliefs, what cannot be denied is that the living is outnumbered by the dead. The tales you’re about to witness are created from firsthand accounts. They portray the experiences of people who had no more reason to believe in ghosts than you. Is it possible that beyond our understanding?
There exists a darker world?
Hidden away in the desolate valleys of rural Wales is the Skirried Inn. Situated on an old coaching road. For centuries, the pub served lonely travelers. Although now a respectable public house, some believe it holds echoes of a sinister past.

I and my wife decided we wanted to go and stay somewhere and we thought, well, why do we come to Scurry? We like old buildings. Anyway, I was sat down and I just want to take a drink. And as I put my hand to my mouth, I felt this phenomenal pain in my stomach and I started seeing visions if you like flashbacks. I was hanging and I remember seeing my feet kicking back and forth. But it wasn’t my body yet. It felt like me. I could see people’s hands, all red, full blood. Bits were being pulled out of me. I was temporarily possessed. Perhaps it was a past life, perhaps I was that spirit.
Simon Kerwood quickly came to believe he wasn’t alone. Numerous staff and visitors to the pub had complained of similar experiences.
It was around two or 03:00 in the afternoon and I was laying some cutlery, so I carried on laying up my knives and forks. It was almost like a lion’s roar in my ear. It was terrifying. I don’t like to generally go in there on my own anymore, but it’s got to the point where even at night time, the lights are on in there because I don’t like to look in there in the dark.
It’s in the pub sat downstairs by the main fireplace. We were all sitting around laughing, joking, talking, but there was a very clear presence standing just behind my right shoulder. I felt very clearly that this was a woman and I heard her say her name. The name that she said to me was very unnerved, very scared.
Women were now coming forward regularly with tales of a frightening female presence that was said to strike without warning. As one guest reported when staying at the Inn.
She was really distressed, absolutely hysterical. She left and she was still wet.
Her hair was wet, but she did say, she’s trying to hold me down, she’s trying to hold me down.
We were quite concerned and I wanted some answers. A couple walked in one summer’s afternoon saying that they were trying to trace their family tree and that had I heard of a Henry Price that was the landlord of Being during the mid 18th century. I said that I hadn’t and they said that they had a death certificate of his wife. She was aged 32 and she died of consumption. Her name was Fanny.

Is it possible that the Scurried Inn is haunted by the ghost of Fanny Price? Some believe that the former landlady wishes to scare staff and visitors away from her old pub. It’s a belief that might find substance in the checkered history of the pub itself which, behind closed doors, doubled as a courthouse. On this site, local villains would be tried, sentenced, and hanged from a beam all under Fanny’s watchful eye.
Fanny Price. Why is she here? Why does she still Hunt? My personal belief is that she was the main woman the only woman capable of keeping an eye on all the goings-on in the Scurried Inn.
It is particularly frightening when you don’t know where or when Fanny is going to appear next. But I suppose I come here to do my job and get along with it. And I suppose if she does make a guest appearance, then next time, hopefully, we better prepare for it.

A mother will do anything to protect her children. But how do you shield an innocent child from something you can’t explain?
The month was August of 1977. My mom had recently divorced. She had four children that she was left to bring up on her own. Knocking seems to be going around the walls but more so at one side of the wall. The wall where the stairs were. And it was continuous knocking. It was quite frightening.