I was shaken from my thoughts by the appearance of a man from the shadows around us. He looked about 40 or 50, except that something in his face gave the appearance of many more years of age - it was drawn and pale, and the eyes looked like a couple of bottomless pits, completely black. However, he spoke in a clear and normal voice "Get on your way, and be quick about it. Don't dawdle, don't stop, just carry on"

It was a little scary, some random bloke appearing seemingly from nowehere and saying something like that, so we carried on along the path and picked up the pace a bit. I did hear some strange sounds though, and turned back just in time to see a silhouetted figure, apparently the stranger, bring an axe-like object down onto the head of another, more indistinct silhouetted figure, and there was a short, low moan followed by a wet thud.

I managed to forget about the incident until much later that night, when it haunted my dreams. the next day, in the full glare of a bright (if cold) sun, I re-traced our steps through Wollaton Park. The hole was gone, marked only by a very slight line in the grass. However, on the path nearby I spotted something glinting in the cold autumn sun. I knelt down and saw that it was a very old-looking metal ring, and when i picked it up I could see that it appeared to be covered with ornate designs, and there was probably something etched on the inside but the old metal was too rotten for me to make it out. I took the ring home and put it away in a drawer, and fully forgot about the whole incident until I believed I had imagined or dreamed it.

However, I was shocked when I spotted the same man who had told us to hurry on, a few days later. He left a gate-house style building, and headed toward a nearby church of similar age, identical in construction and colour to the gate-house. I tried following him but soon lost sight, and when I entered the church he was nowhere to be seen.

As I glanced around the church, I felt a surge of recognition. Without knowing why I did it, I reached into my left coat pocket and my hand closed around the ring. I was surprised, as I didn't remember having got it out of the drawer at home. I held the ring out in the gloomy light of the church candles, and saw that the ornate designs matched some of the paintings in the church. I spotted the collection box nearby, and without a second thought I dropped the ring into it.

This done, I left the church as quickly as I could, wanting to escape the overpowering air of archaic history that hung around and inside the place. I resolved never to go near the church, or to walk through Wollaton park at night, ever again.