Please be aware the stories, theories, re-enactments and language in this podcast are of an adult nature and can be disturbing, frightening and in some cases offensive. Listener Discretion is advised – there is very adult content ahead and you have been warned.

Welcome heathens welcome to the world of the weird and unexplained. I’m your host, Nicole Delacroix and together, we will be investigating stories about the weird, wonderful, unexplained, eerie, scary and down-right unbelievable. There will be tales of ghosts, murder, supernatural beings and unexplained mysteries. So, sit back, grab your favorite drink, relax and prepare to be transported to today's dark Enigma....

And on today’s Dark enigma we’re going to be exploring another witchy story, because as you know, it’s Witchtober! As always, we will be playing our drinking game but as you know, the drinking game is only for those of us that are at home and have nowhere else to go tonight. I will leave the choice of witch’s brew up to you, so choose your poison accordingly… Alright, now for the game part how about every time I say Shipton that will be a single shot and every time I say Prophecy, that’s a double shot. Ok, now that the business end is out of the way we can jump headfirst into today’s dark enigma… and the eerie prophecies of Mother Shipton that terrified all of England… let’s jump into it heathens…

Mother Shipton is England's most famous Prophetess. She foretold the fates of several rulers within and just after her lifetime, as well as the invention of iron ships, the Great Fire of London in 1666, and the defeat of the Spanish Armada. As well as making traditional remedies, Mother Shipton had another gift. She could predict the future. It started off with small premonitions but as she practised, she became more confident and her powers grew. Soon she was known as Knaresborough’s Prophetess, a witch. She made her living telling the future and warning those who asked of what was to come. After a long life, she died in 1561, aged 73.

Mother Shipton still provides a scare to British folklorists. In the spring of 1881, families across England deserted their homes, too terrified to sleep in their beds. They slept in fields or prayed in churches and chapels for God to spare their lives in the apocalypse that was foretold: “The world to an end shall come; in eighteen hundred and eighty-one.”