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Daleks in the Graveyard

Daleks in the Graveyard

The Daleks and the Graveyard of Ballykillduff

ghostly jig


Chapter One: The Midnight Patrol

It was a damp, moonlit night when Dalek Zeg announced to the others:
“REPORT: SUSPICIOUS MOANING SOUNDS DETECTED FROM THE OLD GRAVEYARD.”

Dalek Pog shuddered.
“MOANING IS A CLASSIC GHOST SIGNATURE. ALSO… IT IS PAST MY BEDTIME.”

“DALEKS DO NOT SLEEP!” barked Commander Zog. “WE SHALL INVESTIGATE.”

And so, with a clatter of wheels and a faint squeak of plungers, the Daleks rolled through the creaking gates of Ballykillduff’s graveyard.

The villagers, naturally, followed them for entertainment. “It’ll be better than the telly,” whispered Mrs. Brennan.


Chapter Two: Strange Noises

The graveyard was full of shadows. Headstones leaned at odd angles. The wind whistled through the yew trees.

Then came the sound.
A long, low groan, rising from the earth itself.
“Moooooooooo…”

Dalek Zag panicked.
“IT IS THE VOICE OF THE DEAD!”

Father Murphy peered closer. “No, lads — it’s just Doyle’s cow in the next field.”

But before they could relax, another voice whispered from the soil.
“…Leave… or lie with us forever…”

The villagers gasped. Even the cow stopped mooing.


Chapter Three: The First Apparition

A mist curled around the graves. Out of it stepped a translucent figure — tall, robed, with hollow eyes.

“TRESPASSERS,” it intoned. “DISTURBERS OF THE DEAD.”

Dalek Pog quivered.
“I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR HAUNTED AGRICULTURAL SETTINGS.”

Dalek Zog fired. The beam passed straight through the ghost and vaporised a headstone. The name Patrick O’Rourke, 1822–1876 vanished forever.

“BLASPHEMY!” cried the ghost. “YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT!”


Chapter Four: The Ghostly Choir

From the ground, more spirits rose. Dozens of them. They formed a circle around the Daleks, faces pale, mouths open.

Then — they began to sing.
Not a hymn. Not a lament.
But a terrible, echoing chorus of “Oooooooobey… Oooooooobey…”

The Daleks went rigid.
“ERROR. THE DEAD ARE CHANTING OUR SLOGAN.”
“DOES THAT MAKE THEM SUPPORTERS?” asked Pog nervously.

The villagers were less convinced. “That’s not right at all,” muttered Mrs. McGillicuddy, clutching her rolling pin.


Chapter Five: The Terrible Revelation

One ghost stepped forward. His voice was stronger than the rest.
“We remember you, Daleks. We faced you long ago, before Ballykillduff was even built. You destroyed our ploughs, our cows, our tea urns. We were EXTERMINATED.”

The Daleks recoiled.
“ERROR. WE DO NOT REMEMBER THIS CAMPAIGN.”

“Of course you don’t,” the ghost said. “Because it never happened. But we have eternity to spread rumours. And fear is power.”

The spirits began to advance, their chants growing louder.


Chapter Six: The Ballykillduff Defence

Dalek Zog was cornered.
“STRATEGY REQUIRED. GHOSTS CANNOT BE EXTERMINATED. THEY MUST BE… OUT-PARISHED.”

So he did the only thing he could think of.
He rang the graveyard bell.

The sound boomed across the village. And, as Ballykillduff tradition demanded, the villagers all joined in with the bell’s rhythm — clapping, stamping, singing.

The chaotic noise drowned out the ghosts’ chant. The spirits faltered.

Mrs. McGillicuddy leapt forward with her rolling pin. “Go back to your beds, you crowd of eejits!”

The ghosts wailed, shivered, and one by one, dissolved back into the earth.


Epilogue

The graveyard was silent once more. The villagers cheered. Father Murphy crossed himself.

The Daleks, however, were thoughtful.
“CONCLUSION: BALLYKILLDUFF IS MORE TERRIFYING THAN ANY SPECTRE.”
“AGREED,” said Pog. “NEXT TIME, LET’S STICK TO ROAD MAINTENANCE.”

And if you pass by the graveyard on a moonlit night, you might still hear the faintest echo of the ghostly choir, singing just for mischief:
“Ooooooobey… Oooooobey…”

 
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Posted by on August 23, 2025 in dalek, daleks, ghosts, graveyard, Horror

 

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Daleks in Ballykillduff

Daleks in Ballykillduff

Daleks in Ballykillduff

The trouble began on a Tuesday, which was surprising because most trouble in Ballykillduff traditionally reserved itself for Fridays, when Councillor McGroggin’s trousers had their weekly disagreement with the concept of “staying up.”

Old Mrs Muldoon was the first to notice the invasion. She had gone out to feed her hens, only to find a large, bronze, pepper-pot-shaped creature rolling down her driveway shouting:

EX-TERM-INATE!

Mrs Muldoon, who was hard of hearing and thought it had said “EX-FOLI-ATE,” promptly offered it a jar of homemade lavender body scrub. The Dalek took it, paused, and muttered in its metallic way:

“THIS… IS… UNORTHODOX.”

By mid-morning, three more Daleks had appeared outside the Ballykillduff Post Office, which was awkward because the postmistress, Breda O’Snarky, insisted that they take a number and queue like everyone else. The Daleks complied, muttering about the inefficiency of rural postal services.


The Great Ballykillduff Resistance

Local farmer Seamus “Half-a-Shed” O’Leary decided that alien invaders needed dealing with. He grabbed his hurley stick, a bucket of slurry, and his neighbour’s goat for moral support. Standing on the main street, he declared:

“Right so, lads, you’re not ex-ter-min-ating my village unless you’ve got a permit from the Ballykillduff Council!”

The Daleks, unfamiliar with Irish bureaucracy, were promptly handed a thirty-seven-page form by Councillor McGroggin, who had been looking for a chance to introduce his new ‘Visitor Alien Levy.’ Filling in the form took them four hours, during which time Breda sold them three booklets of stamps and a novelty tea towel.


The Final Showdown at O’Malley’s Pub

By nightfall, the Daleks were thirsty and rolled into O’Malley’s. Paddy O’Malley, who had seen worse (including the time Father Flaherty tried karaoke), poured them each a pint of the black stuff. One sip and the lead Dalek declared:

“ERROR. TASTE MODULE… OVERLOADED.”

The Daleks began to spin in circles, their robotic voices slurring:

“EX-FOLIATE! HY-DRATE! CELE-BRATE!”

Soon they were singing rebel songs badly off-key and demanding another round. The invasion fizzled out entirely when the Daleks discovered Ballykillduff’s weekly céilí and spent the rest of the night attempting Irish dancing, scattering sparks and bolts across the dance floor.


The next morning, the Daleks quietly boarded their saucer and left, muttering that Ballykillduff was “TOO… STRANGE… EVEN… FOR… US.”

Mrs Muldoon waved them off with another jar of lavender scrub.

dalek ceili

 
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Posted by on August 12, 2025 in daleks, invasion

 

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