The Dalek Ghost Hunt
The Dalek Ghost Hunt
Chapter One: The Whisper in the Fog
Ballykillduff was blanketed in a thick, milky fog one October evening when the Daleks first heard the whisper.
It drifted through the mist, faint and eerie:
“Woooooo… leave this place… or be doomed…”
Dalek Zog’s eyestalk swiveled nervously.
“REPORT! AN UNKNOWN ENTITY IS ISSUING THREATS.”
Dalek Pog quivered.
“PERHAPS IT IS A GHOST.”
The word ghost was barely out of his vocoder before the villagers appeared, carrying torches and rosary beads.
“It’s the Ballykillduff Phantom again!” cried Mrs. Brennan. “Haunting the holy well, just like last year!”
The Daleks froze.
“A PHANTOM?”
“A SUPERNATURAL ENEMY?”
“A LIFE FORM THAT CANNOT BE EXTERMINATED?”
For the first time, the Daleks felt… afraid.
Chapter Two: Preparations for the Hunt
Commander Zog would not tolerate weakness.
“WE SHALL INVESTIGATE. WE SHALL CONQUER THIS ‘GHOST.’”
The Daleks prepared for battle:
- Dalek Zeg armed himself with a holy water spray bottle (borrowed from Father Murphy, who muttered, “Best of luck, lads, you’ll need it”).
- Dalek Pog fitted a plunger with garlic bulbs.
- Dalek Zag painted his casing white and declared, “IF IT IS A GHOST, I SHALL BLEND IN.”
The villagers followed eagerly, treating it as the best entertainment since last year’s céilí.
Chapter Three: The First Encounter
At the holy well, mist coiled around the trees. The water shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
Suddenly — “WOOOOO!” — a figure appeared! A tall, shrouded shape, with eyes glowing red through the fog.
“IDENTIFY YOURSELF!” Zog screeched.
“EXTERMIN—wait, no, HOLY WATER ATTACK!” cried Zeg, squirting wildly.
The shape staggered, flapped — and fell over.
It was Farmer Doyle’s bedsheet.
The villagers collapsed in laughter. But just as the Daleks were about to declare victory, a different whisper slid through the air.
“You dare disturb me…?”
The bedsheet hadn’t spoken.
Chapter Four: The Real Haunting
The ground trembled. From the well rose a pale, shifting figure, skeletal and cold-eyed, its face flickering like candlelight.
“LEAVE… OR SUFFER…” it hissed.
The villagers gasped. Father Murphy clutched his beads. Even the cows in the field mooed nervously.
Dalek Pog backed up.
“THIS IS NOT LOGICAL. I DO NOT LIKE THIS. I WISH TO BE A BIN AGAIN.”
The ghost reached out with long, dripping hands — straight for Zog.
Zog panicked and fired. The death-ray passed straight through.
“ERROR! IT IS INVULNERABLE!”
The ghost moaned louder. The villagers screamed. The Daleks, usually masters of terror, were now the terrified.
Chapter Five: The Ballykillduff Twist
Suddenly, Bridget McGillicuddy marched forward, rolling pin raised.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, it’s not a ghost,” she snapped. “It’s Paddy O’Rourke with a lantern and a sheet, up to his usual carry-on!”
The figure froze. The sheet slipped. Sure enough — it was Paddy, the local prankster, covered in flour to make himself “glow.”
The villagers erupted in laughter again. The Daleks were furious.
“YOU MADE FOOLS OF US! WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE THE SCARIEST THINGS IN BALLYKILLDUFF!”
But before Paddy could make excuses, a new sound emerged from the well. A real voice this time:
“I… am not… Paddy O’Rourke…”
Something icy and ancient slithered up the stones. The lantern went out.
Chapter Six: The True Phantom
The air grew so cold that the Daleks’ casings frosted over. A second figure rose from the well — translucent, taller, and unmistakably not human. Its hollow eyes glowed.
The villagers shrieked. Even Bridget stumbled back.
The ghost’s voice echoed:
“For centuries… I have guarded this well. None may mock it. None may trespass. Begone…”
Dalek Zog quivered.
“THIS ENTITY… DEFIES EXTERMINATION. STRATEGY REQUIRED.”
Dalek Pog suddenly shouted:
“ERROR! THIS IS A JOB FOR… BINGO.”
Chapter Seven: The Bingo Exorcism
The Daleks quickly wheeled into formation, transforming the square into an impromptu bingo hall.
“NUMBER SEVEN! LUCKY SEVEN!” cried Pog.
“TWENTY-TWO! TWO LITTLE DUCKS! QUACK QUACK!” screeched Zag.
The villagers, catching on, joined in. Numbers rang out, laughter bounced off the mist, and the ghost froze.
Confused by the chaos, it began to fade.
“What… is… this… madness…?”
Dalek Zog delivered the final blow.
“FULL HOUSE! YOU ARE… EXORCISED!”
With a shriek, the phantom dissolved back into the well. The fog lifted. Stars shone again.
Epilogue
The villagers cheered. Ballykillduff had been saved — not by Father Murphy, not by Bridget, but by the utterly ridiculous combination of Daleks and bingo.
From that day on, the Daleks were officially appointed Paranormal Investigators of Ballykillduff, though they insisted on being paid in scones.
And at night, if you pass by the holy well, you might still hear a faint whisper in the mist:
“…Two little ducks… quack quack…”
Second, Bonus Story
The Daleks and the Graveyard of Ballykillduff
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 One
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…”
Chapter Seven: The Coffin Uprising
The villagers were just beginning to relax when the ground shook.
A low rumble shivered through the soil, louder, deeper than before.
Mrs. Brennan gasped. “Sweet saints above… it’s not over.”
With a dreadful crack, one of the old coffins burst open. Out climbed… not a ghost, but a skeleton. Its jaw creaked, its bones rattled, and in one bony hand it clutched a rusty spade.
“WORK… WORK…” it groaned.
Then another skeleton clambered up. And another. Soon the graveyard was alive (or rather, undead) with a shuffling, rattling coffin uprising.
Daleks in Disarray
Dalek Pog screamed, “ERROR! BONE-BASED LIFE FORMS DETECTED! THEY ARE… IMPOSSIBLE TO PLUNGE!”
Dalek Zag tried to exterminate them, but the beams only blasted off the skeletons’ legs. The bones hopped on their hands instead, spade-swinging merrily.
Dalek Zog was rammed by one particularly enthusiastic skeleton, knocking him into a headstone.
“WARNING! I AM BEING BLUDGEONED BY A FARM IMPLEMENT!”
The villagers fled behind the church wall, watching in disbelief.
The Skeleton Problem
Father Murphy shook his head. “Strange thing is, they don’t look evil. Just… busy.”
Indeed, the skeletons weren’t attacking the villagers. They were digging up the graveyard paths, turning the soil, repairing stone walls, even planting flowers around the holy well.
“They’re after taking over the parish tidy towns competition!” shouted Mrs. McGillicuddy.
The Daleks, however, saw this as pure horror.
“THEY ARE REDECORATING WITHOUT PERMISSION! THIS IS ANARCHY!”
The Final Farce
The skeletons finished their work, gathered their spades, and began a raucous bone-rattling jig around the Daleks, chanting in hollow voices:
“Obey! Tidy! Plant marigolds today!”
Dalek Pog could not take it.
“THIS IS TOO MUCH. I AM A WARRIOR, NOT A GARDENER!”
With that, he reversed at full speed — straight into the holy water font. Sparks flew. The font toppled. Water splashed everywhere.
The skeletons hissed, rattled, and with one last triumphant jig, collapsed back into neat piles of bones.
The graveyard fell silent once more.
Epilogue Two
The Daleks stood steaming, covered in holy water and marigold petals. The villagers clapped politely.
“Well now,” said Bridget McGillicuddy, “at least the graveyard looks better than it ever has.”
Father Murphy nodded. “And the Daleks have finally done something useful — even if it was by accident.”
Dalek Zog muttered bitterly:
“NOTE TO SELF: NEVER RETURN TO BALLYKILLDUFF GRAVEYARD. TOO MANY… BONES.”
But some say, on dark nights, the skeletons rise again — not to haunt, not to harm, but to weed and tidy, forever improving their chances at the tidy towns prize.
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 