It was a hot and foggy night in September.

A man was taking a shortcut through the railroad tracks making his way back home from the

Green Tree Inn in Pennsylvania.

The area he was in was known as Duffy's Fill, named in part because of a railroad contractor's

name and how they had to fill the certain area of land to put

in this railroad track. Where the hills were grubbed away, it was called Duffy's Cut. So he was

walking down the tracks when he came upon this rock formation that he was familiar with. It was there

when he saw a strange blue and green fire in the shape of ghosts.

They were hopping and bobbing around in the dirt.

The ghost, he said, were of the Irishmen that had died from cholera a month before,

all dancing around the big trench where they were buried. There was a grave of a small group of unfortunate men who had died due to the illness.

Needless to say, he was scared, and in his own words he said,

There I stood knocking my knees together and ghosts advancing and groaning all the time.

At last, I fell down. I don't know how long

I lay there. When I came to, the ghosts were all gone. He ran back to the road that led to the

pike and got home that way, never to take that same shortcut back home again.

But what did that man see that night?

Because over 150 years later, in that same area, a couple of men would also witness

strange neon light formations in there. But this time, by pure chance, it will leave them to uncover

a story of prejudice, murder, and a debt that was long overdue. But were the dead making

themselves known in order for us to know their story? Because I think so. And after hearing about what happened, you might start

to think so too. My name is Edwin. And here's a horror story.

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