Chapter Text
Where the Flowers Grow
Have you ever visited the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh?
It's beautiful. Acres of open space and flowers, somehow tucked away in the middle of a busy city.
But have you ever wandered away from the main paths, into one of the quieter corners where there aren't so many people?
Have you ever felt like you weren't supposed to be there?
Like you were being watched — and not by a member of staff?
Have you ever visited at night, during one of the Christmas or summer events, and felt a chill you couldn't explain?
Or caught movement out of the corner of your eye when you were certain you were alone?
Don't let the beauty of the Botanics lull you into a sense of peace and tranquillity.
Because this land has a much darker history.
In 1941, two Spitfires collided in the skies above Edinburgh. One crashed into the Botanic Gardens. Its pilot, Arthur Wescome Searle, escaped the aircraft — but his parachute failed to open in time.
Centuries earlier, the land around Inverleith was home to powerful families, fortified houses and violent feuds between noblemen.
And then there's the old story of something far less human lurking nearby.
A house remembered only as Number 17.
A terrified servant.
A student who agreed to spend the night in its attic.
A bell ringing frantically in the darkness.
And, according to legend, by the time anyone reached him.......he was already dead.
Today, Number 17 is gone.
In fact, no one is entirely certain where it stood.
So the next time you're enjoying the flowers at the Botanics and decide to wander down one of those quieter paths.....and you get the strange feeling that you're not quite alone.....
Maybe don't look behind you.