MONDAY MAILTIME: The Hill That Sang Back & The Voice That Wasn't Hers
Paranormal Activity with Yvette Fielding
adam.foster@createproductions.com
4.6 • 571 Ratings
🗓️ 10 May 2026
⏱️ 17 minutes
🧾️ Download transcript
Summary
This week on Paranormal Activity: Monday Mailtime, Producer Dom opens two listener encounters that don't just unsettle, they fundamentally challenge what we think we understand about places, presence, and memory.
Calum hiked alone to a hill on the Isle of Skye as the light began to fade. He didn't know the locals call it Hill of the Voice. He does now. What started as a faint, drawn-out note became layers of inhuman singing — overlapping, circling, tightening around him like something adjusting itself. And then he felt it beneath his feet. Not a sound. Not a shape. Something occupied. Something listening back. A local later told him the singing isn't meant for people. And if you hear it clearly… you've already been noticed.
Then, Amara travelled alone to Kennin-ji Temple in Kyoto to observe a morning service. She sat quietly. The chanting began. And then without knowing the words, without understanding the language, her mouth started moving. Perfectly in time. In a voice that wasn't hers. Deeper. Older. Worn-in, like it had been used across lifetimes. When it ended, she asked a monk what had happened. His answer has never left her: "Not everyone who arrives here is arriving for the first time."
What happens when a place doesn't just hold energy… but uses whoever walks into it? And what does it mean when something ancient recognises you before you recognise it?
Producer Dom reacts, unpacks, and explores the folklore and deeper theory behind both: from the fairy mounds of Scottish Gaelic tradition to the Zen Buddhist belief that practice never truly ends… it just waits for the right vessel to return.
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Transcript
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| 0:00.0 | Hello and welcome back to Monday Mail Time on the Paranormal Activity podcast with me, producer Dom, |
| 0:05.2 | where we dive into your experiences and your stories. So without further ado, let's dive into that |
| 0:10.1 | mailbag and come to our first story of today's episode. And this comes from Callan. |
| 0:16.1 | Hiya, I'm Callan and I still don't fully understand what I experienced and part of me isn't sure I want to. |
| 0:23.6 | This happened a few summers ago on the Isle of Sky. I was staying with a friend and one evening |
| 0:28.4 | just the light started to fade, I decided to head out alone as they were not far from where we were |
| 0:33.0 | and locals called at the Hill of the Voice in Gaelic. I didn't know that at the time, to me, it was just somewhere quiet to watch the sunset. The walk-up felt wrong from the start, not on an obvious way, nothing you could point at, but the deeper I went the more it felt like the place was aware of me. Like I wasn't just walking through it, but being noticed by it. The ground felt firmer than it should have, almost resistant under each step, |
| 0:54.9 | and every so often I'd get this strange sensation, like I just walked across a space I wasn't |
| 0:59.2 | meant to. By the time I reached the top, that feeling had settled into something heavier, |
| 1:04.4 | not fear exactly, just a strong sense that I was somewhere I hadn't been invited. I sat down |
| 1:08.7 | anyway, watching the sky dark and trying to shake |
| 1:10.8 | it off, and that's when it started. At first it was subtle, just a drawn-out note barely there, |
| 1:16.9 | then another joined it, then more. It wasn't music in any normal sense. The voices overlapped in |
| 1:22.5 | strange ways, rising and dipping, sometimes almost in harmony, sometimes clashing in a way that made my chest |
| 1:28.3 | titan. Some felt close enough to be right beside me, others impossibly far away. But none of them |
| 1:34.1 | felt human. I stood up slowly, scanning the landscape, there was nothing, no one, no movement to |
| 1:40.4 | match what I was hearing, and yet it continued, steady, unbroken, weaving around |
| 1:45.7 | me. The longer I stood there, the more it felt like I wasn't just hearing it, I was inside |
| 1:49.8 | it, like it existed independently of the space around it, and I stepped directly into its path. |
| 1:56.0 | Then something shifted. The tone deepened, subtly at first, then more noticeably. The voices |
| 2:00.8 | seemed to align, forming patterns that felt intentional, repeating, circling, |
| 2:06.3 | like they're adjusting themselves, like they were reacting. |
... |
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