Alice is missing

"Oh aye, I'm up here every evening. First time I've seen anything like that though. I take Bobby up here for his walk after tea most days. Catching the last of the sun. The hill knackers him out and then we get some peace and quiet in the evening. Yeah, it was right over there, just in that dip as you come over the top, where all that moor grass is. A light as bright as anything. I couldn't look straight at it. I thought maybe the sun was bouncing off a bit of mirror or glass. People fly-tip up here sometimes you see, dumping rubbish in the ditches. Bits of cars and the like. It looked like it was flashing or pulsating but it was totally silent. Bobby usually shoots right off, chasing whatever he can sniff out. But he wouldn't go anywhere near it. I'm not easily spooked, but it was weird. There was kind of a bad smell too, like old meat. Bobby was whimpering and pulling on his lead by this point and I didn't fancy wrestling with him. We turned back down the hill early. To think, if I'd been around just that little bit later. Terrible for that poor family. Did they find her yet?"

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"She's a ray of sunshine that little girl. So chatty, it's a job to get her to quieten down during lessons. Always dancing or singing and arranging all the other children during games. She loves drawing too. Always trying to get hers up on the wall. I know there was some upheaval in her home life recently. But we kept a close eye and it didn't seem to affect her. There was nothing odd about that day at all. She was her usual, bubbly self. Skipping out the door in that tatty green coat of hers, with the ears. She waved at me and she was just beaming. I can hardly bear to think about it. They should fence that place off."

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"There were some really weird lights up there that night. Green and strobing, like there was a party or a festival going on. I saw it from my window. It lit up my room and we must be a mile or two away at least. Is it anything to do with that little girl?"

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"At 8.30pm on 10 October, we received a report of a child missing from her home. Myself and Officer Martin responded to the call and met the child's mother, Mrs. Stanley of 27 Weston St in the vicinity of Hulsted Hill. Mrs. Stanley was understandably distressed and my colleague remained with her to gather information while I conducted an immediate search of the area. At approximately 9.15pm, I was assisted in my search by Officer Sutton who had been responding to some unrelated reports of unusual disturbances in that same area. We were unable to locate Alice and darkness made further searching impossible. Alice Stanley was last seen climbing north up Hulsted Hill at approximately 6.15pm. She is described as having shoulder length, brown, curly hair and green eyes. At the time she went missing she was wearing blue wellington boots and a green, floral raincoat with ears on the hood. We're treating her disappearance as unexplained though at this time we have no evidence of a crime being committed. We are asking anyone who may have been in the area at that time to come forward."

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"I don't know why people like it. The views are incredible but it’s an awfully desolate place. I suppose it all goes back to when I got into a spot of trouble up there in my youth. An old boyfriend, he thought it would be terrifically romantic to spend the evening looking out across the town. Of course, he ought to have checked the weather report first. Poor Olly, the daft old soul, he was useless when it came to those things. A great big storm whipped up about half an hour after we reached the top. Torrential rain and blowing a gale. The minute you stood up you were blown over. The slopes were running like a river. We were trapped up there most of the night. It was much too dangerous to climb down in those conditions. We had nothing but our cagoules, huddled together for warmth and soaked to the bone. The wind was making these strange dragging sounds all around us in the dark. Two or three shocks of lightning fell rather close to us and Olly kept looking back across the moor. I think he was more frightened than I was, bless him. Or embarrassed perhaps. Not that I was enjoying myself of course but growing up on a farm does give one a certain resilience. We were on the verge of hypothermia by the time we got home. I'd hate to think what would've happened if the storm had lasted much longer. Or god forbid, if we'd been hurt. Anyway, it didn't last for me and Olly I'm afraid. He was nice enough but we parted ways shortly after. Come to think of it, he was never the same after that night. I think he moved away."

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"There’s no shortage of folklore, myths, and legends in towns like Hulsted. Being in a bit of a valley encourages that sort of tight-knit, community spirit. It’s carried through from the dark ages and through the industrial revolution right up to the present day. People stick together around here. They live and work in each others’ pockets. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone knows everyone's business. They might not think it but it's the fear of outsiders, the unknown, and what could be lurking just over the hill, that’s what keeps these people awake at night. It has for centuries. So no, I’m not surprised by the odd reports surrounding the little girl's disappearance. Local people still talk about goblins and boggarts living under the hill. Legends passed down by word of mouth, all the way back to the 13th century. There is one old tale, 16th century I think, of a farmer’s son who encountered some sort of shape-shifting creature here on the moor. It's different every time you hear it but always takes the same basic form. They used to call the creature 'Old Trash'. It's said that the boy had to barter the lives of his sheep to save his own. And Old Trash would only let him go on the promise that he would bring him a new one at each full moon. An ill omen obviously, no farming or sheep up here these days. Most of the old stories feature some sort of beast or werewolf and it’s likely that they're older than we know. We found evidence of bronze age settlements all across this area. There is a burial site, you can still see the cairn over there. It’s funny how each generation finds something to fear in this barren landscape. Where once we had evil spirits, now we have lights in the sky and little green men running around. It’s part of the attraction if I’m honest, working in Hulsted. You don’t have to be a believer to be fascinated by all this stuff. To them, the ones who experience something, it’s real enough. And there are times up here when you can sense a certain energy. Things feel, strange. Though it does leave a bad taste when a real tragedy is caught up in all these ghost stories and conspiracy theories. That poor family must be going out of their mind with worry."

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"I don't go up there anymore. It's a horrible place. I used to play there as a child but now I can't believe people let their kids up there alone. On that bleak moor. I suppose they'll think twice now. What stopped me was my granny. I came home late one day and she was so angry, wanting to put the fear in me. My old granny was lovely when we were good. But if you broke the rules she was fierce. It happened forty years ago she told me. I suppose it would be about 60 years ago now. She'd been up there collecting daisies with her friends. It was safe to stay out until dark back then but she'd somehow found herself alone. It was getting dark and she was only a young girl so she started to worry. As she hurried back over the hill she heard a rattling or rustling from the ditch behind her. You can hear all sorts up there. Sound playing tricks on you. It's so exposed up there, very disorientating. But she was convinced someone was following her. She was still up on top of the hill when the sun dropped beneath the horizon and the rattling was getting louder. That's when the smell started. An awful rotten stench, like fruit gone rancid. I asked her what she thought it was. I said, didn't you look? But she was too terrified to turn around and she started to run. You've got to be careful on that moor. There are hidden ditches and rabbit holes everywhere and you can twist an ankle so easily. As she is running she spots something. Off to the side, moving towards her. I'd never seen my granny cry so when I saw the tears welling up in her eyes as she told me this, I felt like I had a block of ice in my stomach. It was huge, she said. A black, hairy beast, dragging its way over the grass. Like a wild dog, but bigger. It's hot breath billowing out from between long brown fangs she said. She panicked when she saw the eyes. Wasp yellow, rolling around in their sockets. She tumbled down the rest of the hill and shuffled home on a twisted ankle and a scraped knee. Her dress was torn to ribbons but she was in such a state. Her mother, my great granny, was too shocked even to slap her legs. Imagine hearing that story at the age of 8. I still think about it. I used to curse her for telling me, giving me nightmares. But now I think maybe she did me a favour, god rest her. Of course, when I heard about Alice, it was the first thing I thought of. I felt sick thinking about her up there, alone. With that thing."

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"You want the truth? We've lost dozens of people up here over the last century. That little girl is just the latest in a long line. But I don't think they'll find her. At least not anytime soon. Obviously, she was taken. Did you know this is a window area? Do you know what that is? Have you done any research into UAPs? Ultra-dimensional visitors? We have about 20 or 30 reports of strange lights up on these hills every year. They're all drones, are they? Or lanterns? You should speak to old Annie down the town, she runs our group. She was taken too, 20 years ago. They told her what was coming. How they're not gonna let us destroy the gifts we've been given. This planet. She had burns all over her face and neck when they found her. There is still a bald patch up behind her ear. You should take a look. Unexplained phenomena, cryptids, it's all here. Did you hear about 'OId Trash'? Or the Gray Man? Ask Tommy about him and he'll tell you a tale. Did you know that the Civil Aviation Authority advises against flying over this moor? Were you aware that the Ministry of Defence has been monitoring activity in this area since the 60s? We FOI'd it, but it's all black marker. Redacted. Just another cover-up. Did you get anything useful from the police? I doubt it. Most of them are too scared to come up here, or too lazy. They just fill out their paperwork, give you a crime number and move on. They won't find her, not until they face the reality of this place. Spend one night up here and I guarantee you'll have an experience you'll never forget. I certainly did. Listen, if you wanna know the truth about what's going on around here, you should check out my channel."

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"It was the dad what took her. That's what I heard. They had one of those abusive relationships, him and the mum. She finally booted him out a month or two ago and he came back for the daughter to get back at her. Some right scumbags live round here these days. All on benefits and too much booze. And other stuff, if you know what I mean. I'm telling you, they'll find her hiding under a bed next week, mark my words."

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"It was just after the sun went down. Just up above on that ridge of the hill. It was like shimmering or flickering. Sort of purple and green. I thought it were a plane at first, just coming low over the hill. But it didn't move. I called Callum, he's my husband, out to look. He works at the airport so he'd know. All the colour drained out of his face and he just went back inside."

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"Yeah I seen him. I've lived up here on this hill nearly 40 years now. You see a thing or two in that time, when the sun goes down. Big lad he is. Stinks an all. Rotten eggs and burnt hair. Lumbering over the moor he was, first time I seen him. Shuffling along, slow as you like. Keeps to himself. I suppose he's used to me. I do no harm over in my little shed. There was one night he came near. Wind and rain battering the sides of my old shack all night. Ice cold and soaked through I was, but I've survived worse. There's me shivering away in the dark, wind howling. And I looks up and he's there at the window, gawping in. Thick grey hair sticking out everywhere and this meaty, red tongue dangling out over brown teeth. His breath knocked me sick. Don't know if he even noticed me at all. His yellow eyes were just rolling round inside his head like boiling eggs. And his jaw swinging up and down like he was trying to tell me something. But I couldn't hear nothing over that storm. I watched him a minute or two wondering what to do. And then he just turns and shuffles off into the night. Never seen him up close like that since but I guess he's alright with me. The morning after when it had cleared up, I went out and there was a fresh rabbit laid out on my step. Neck all twisted around. Cooked it up that night, I did. But it was clear and cold and he never came near."

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"It's a hill like any other. It's very typical of this part of the world in fact. Sorry to disappoint you. Mostly sandstone and clay underneath. That's what makes it so steep, the sandstone layer wears down much more quickly. No secret underground bases or abandoned dwarf mines, I'm afraid. Of course, people see lights in these areas all the time and it's no wonder. There is always someone lighting a fire or setting off fireworks. There is an airport not too far from here and as the planes descend over the valley, it can give the impression of craft disappearing or reappearing. Flares, drones, unusual weather conditions. They're not unheard of in the north of England. It all adds up and people become convinced they're seeing things that aren't there. We have done some research with infrasound. It could account for some of the more, shall we say, outlandish accounts. But I must say, this is all in poor taste. It's people like you who fan the flames, using someone's personal trauma for clicks and likes. You encourage all this nonsense and all it does is serve to obscure the truth. The reality is that someone took that poor girl and thanks to nonsense about aliens and shape-shifters her family is no closer to finding her."

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"We found it just this morning. It was sticking out of the ground, half buried in the mud. It was like it had been there for decades and just now the ground had decided to give it up. We'd searched that ditch at least six times already and found nothing. I've been up there every day since she disappeared and most of the rest of them have been too. We covered every blade of grass, every ditch, so how we missed that I'll never understand. They reckon it's hers. It's green and flowery, with ears on the hood. Everyone had mentioned that first. The coat she had on when they saw her last. But I don't see how it could be, the way it was encased in the ground like that. It must have been down there for years. We had to dig around through the clay to pull it out. It's terrible for that family, just awful. To find that but nothing else. To know she's either in the ground with it or, so cold somewhere without it. There is no relief for them. It's just a nightmare that never ends. The digging has started again but I don't think they'll find anything else. That clay is near impenetrable without heavy machinery and there's no way you can get that up there. When you pry a chunk of that stuff out, it's as heavy as lead on the end of your shovel. You can dig for hours and look up to find you're barely any deeper than when you started. I know they want to know what happened to Alice. I can't imagine how it must feel. But I don't think she's there anymore. There is nothing on that hill that you'd want to find."