 adds her to during the podcast that are not in my voice or placed by third-party agencies outside of my control and should not imply an endorsement by Weird Darkness or myself. Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. The boundary between the natural and supernatural is fragile, and it blurs quite easily without intention. When it does, encounters with the paranormal can leave you more than just with a sense of unease. They can leave you feeling sick. Numerous inexplicable cases have been reported of individuals falling gravely ill following brushes with the paranormal. Consider the case of Albert Bender, a man whose investigation into UFOs led him into the path of the menacing men in black. Afterward, he fell victim to numerous ailments like splitting migraines, severe stomach pains, and a rapid loss of weight that hinted at something far more sinister than mere stress. Robbie, a young Englishman, encountered a shadowy figure crawling on his bedroom ceiling only to find himself hospitalized with meningitis shortly thereafter. Jim Harper's late-night encounter with the black-eyed children left him reeling, his subsequent diagnosis of type 2 diabetes raising troubling questions about the true nature of his unearthly visitors. And then there's Allison, whose nightly visitations by a pale-faced specter left her wasting away, her health deteriorating rapidly as her energy seemed to drain away with each passing night. Even dreams can hold dark portents. Michelle's graphic nightmare of an internet urban legend preceded a sudden and severe bout of ulcerative colitis, leaving her shaken and searching for answers in the eerie overlap between the dream world and reality. These accounts only hint at the dark, unseen forces that lurk at the fringes of our reality, ready to prey upon the unwary and the unsuspecting. It appears the paranormal can exert a malevolent influence on not just the minds, but the health of those who dare to venture too close. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Welcome, Weirdos. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. Coming up in this episode, Helen Duncan made a living from conducting seances until her uncanny knowledge of classified World War II tragedies spooked British authorities. Jeremy Bentham was a philosopher whose ideas about mortality and utility extended beyond death. Bentham's wish was for his body to be preserved and displayed as an auto icon so it could be seen publicly by all. And while his wishes were granted, it came with a few hiccups along the way, mostly with his poor head. Annie Dorman was discovered lifeless with a gunshot wound, sending shock waves through her tight-knit community. Suicide seemed improbable, leaving detectives baffled and family perplexed. Was it a crime of passion, an accident, murder or truly suicide? In a similar case, just a few years later, in the serene countryside of Greenwich, New York, the lifeless form of Maggie Hurrigan is found, floating in a tranquil pool. Speculations run rampant. Were these cases suicide, as hastily concluded? Horrible accidents or sinister murders? But first, when the supernatural intrudes into our lives, it's not just our minds that are affected. We'll delve into a few bizarre cases where individuals fell gravely ill after brushes with the paranormal. Is it coincidence or something more sinister? And could these illnesses be due to the paranormal literally draining us of life? We begin there. If you're new here, welcome to the show. While you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, to visit sponsors you hear about during the show, sign up for my newsletter and our contests. Connect with me on social media. Hear my other podcasts, including Church of the Undead and a sci-fi podcast called Auditory Anthology. Listen to free audiobooks I've narrated. Plus, you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression, dark thoughts or addiction. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness. It's a fact that when our bodies become depleted of vital energies and essential vitamins and minerals, we fall sick. It's all but inevitable too. One only has to look at two medical conditions that serve perfectly to make that very point. They are anorexia and anemia. The symptoms and side effects of anorexia, the desire to stay thin at all costs, even one's health, or many. They are potentially life-threatening too. They include liver problems, low blood pressure, exhaustion, fainting, seizures, and of course, weight loss. As for anemia, which is caused by a lowering of red cells in the blood, the symptoms are equally serious. Hemorrhaging, ulcers, severe weakness, cramping in the legs and shortness of breath. And both anorexia and anemia have one grim thing in common. If left untreated, over time they can lead to death. Of course, anyone at any time can fall sick. And just because someone is involved in the world of the paranormal doesn't mean that every illness is somehow connected. It would be absurd to even suggest such a thing. We are all human and unfortunately we all get ill, sometimes with minor issues and on other occasions to an extremely serious degree. Particularly intriguing though are those cases in which the condition has come on in the immediate aftermath of a paranormal encounter, as in hours or at the very most just a few days. Joseph McCabe, a Franciscan monk who passed away in 1955, knew a great deal about all of this. He spent years pouring over ancient texts and doing his utmost to understand the nature of the creatures that so terrified those who lived in Mesopotamia and particularly so the Sumerians. McCabe had a particular interest in a pair of highly dangerous demons called Lelu and Lelitu who dwelled in the region. He was clearly aware of how illness was a side effect of a supernatural encounter. He said in the book The Story of Religious Controversy, did a maid show the symptoms of anemia? Obviously Lelu or Lelitu had been busy at night with her body. McCabe went on to list literally dozens of cases he had on file of people who had nighttime encounters with supernatural entities and who, shortly thereafter, began to exhibit signs of anemia. Sometimes acute anemia but in incredibly quick time. This all strongly suggests that certain paranormal things were depleting the people McCabe referred to in significantly dangerous fashion. A perfect example of someone falling ill very quickly after a paranormal event is that of Albert Bender, the guy who pretty much kicked off the whole Men in Black mystery in the early 1950s. After allegedly getting too close to the truth behind the UFO phenomenon, Bender was visited by three strange and menacing MIB. They were not of the Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones type though, rather they were far more like today's so-called shadow people. They were phantom-like things with shining eyes and bad attitudes that walked through the walls of Bender's attic-based abode in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Bender was terrified by the warnings of the MIB who told him to quit ufology, or else. As it turned out it took several threats and creepy encounters before Bender finally heeded the words of the terrible trio. When all of this was going down, Bender went down too, with head-splitting migraines, severe stomach pains, faintness and issues with his short-term memory, and he lost significant weight, suggesting he too was being fed upon. Was all of this due to the fear and stress that had been instilled in Bender, or had he somehow been supernaturally attacked? Who knows, but things didn't end there. Quite out of the blue developed a fear that he had cancer. Fortunately, he did not have cancer at all. After quitting ufology and getting married, the symptoms went away and Bender lived to the ripe old age of 94, passing away in 2016. In early 2016, an Englishman, we'll call him Robbie, had a disturbing encounter that falls right into this particular category. In August 1982 he had a somewhat similar experience after an encounter with what sounds like one of the shadow people. Robbie, who was 14 at the time, was living with his parents in Beckenham, Kent, England. He had a traumatic encounter with what he described as a flat black-colored shadow which crawled on the bedroom ceiling. During the encounter Robbie experienced a bout of sleep paralysis and said that the room suddenly smelled like dirt. Robbie was soon hospitalized with meningitis. It was fortunate that the condition was quickly caught and Robbie made a full recovery. There is, however, a disturbing afterword to all of this. Several months later Robbie was hospitalized after fainting while playing soccer at school. He was diagnosed with acute anemia. There is clearly a trend here. In 2015, David Weatherly wrote an article for the book Men in Black titled Children of the Men in Black. The subject was the phenomenon of the black-eyed children and as so often happens when Nick Redfern writes a book, people contact him to share their experiences. One of those people was Jim Harper who said that he had an encounter with the BEC in March of 2008 in Florida. At the time Jim and his wife were living in a rented duplex in a small town outside of Orlando. Jim's encounter was a typical BEC case. There was a knock on the door late at night and Jim, having peered through the spy hole on the front door, saw two kids in black hoodies, both staring at the ground. He tentatively opened the door and was confronted by a pair of pale-faced black-eyed monsters who were now staring right at him. Jim slammed the door and never saw them again. Two days later though he experienced a severe case of dizziness followed by a couple of pretty bad nosebleeds. Then three weeks later, after feeling repeatedly sick, nauseous and shaky, he was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Jim's blood sugar levels were extremely low. Having read up on the BEC phenomenon, Jim wonders if his diabetes was somehow provoked by the BEC so adversely affecting him at the time of his encounter. Then there's the account of Michelle, a resident of Nova Scotia, Canada. In January 2017, just two days after having a graphic dream about the slender man, Michelle was hospitalized with severe ulcerative colitis, which she had never had before and which led her to drop five pounds in just a few days. She finally made a good recovery but was shaken by the timing of the onset of the condition which she believed and still believes was connected to the skinny monster of her nightmare. It's important to note that the various conditions discussed here in relation to food and the supernatural are anemia, colitis and weight loss. All three are connected to food and digestion and still, on the matter of weight loss, one of the strangest cases comes from a woman who, back in the 1990s, had a series of experiences that left her seriously ill and which took her several months to fully recover from. Allison of Texas was 17 when in late 1998 she began to feel ill. The first symptom was a rapid loss of weight, about 10 pounds in less than a month, which is definitely not a good thing. Given her age at the time, it's perhaps not unreasonable that Allison's mother tactfully asked if all was okay with her. When her mother brought up the issue of her weight loss, Allison became noticeably defensive but denied that she had anorexia or a somewhat related condition, that of bulimia. Nothing more was said. Allison continued to have a healthy appetite, despite continuing to steadily lose weight. It was around 10 days later, however, that Allison's mother became deeply worried. Early on a Sunday morning, Allison screamed for her mother, who quickly came running to her bedroom. To her horror, she saw Allison laying on the bed, her face deathly pale. When her mother tried to help Allison to sit upright, Allison's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fainted. Luckily, the pair lived only a few minutes from the local hospital and so Allison's mother got her into the car and raced to the emergency room. In no time, she was being examined. As Allison, who regained consciousness in the car but who felt weak and dizzy, rested, a doctor asked her mother about Allison's general health. She explained that Allison had lost a lot of weight in the last few weeks. Maybe not surprisingly, the doctor too asked questions about anorexia and bulimia. When Allison recovered, the pair left the hospital with the doctor suggesting to Allison's mother that she keep a very close eye on her daughter and if she had any more fainting spells to take her to their regular doctor. They were wise words. Allison fell sick on three more occasions and as her weight continued to plummet, a final total of approximately 20 pounds in around six weeks, she was admitted to the hospital and watched very carefully. Tests showed that physically Allison was exhibiting all the physical signs associated with early anorexia, but there was always someone with her when she ate her meals in her hospital room and at home too. In fact, she was eating eagerly. On top of that, Allison's mother sat with her for hours after eating each meal on the suggestion of one of the doctors to make sure she didn't make herself ill, bulimia style by vomiting up her meals. Further tests were run but no answers were to be found, at least not by conventional medicine. At the height of her illness, when Allison even started to take on a jaundiced look, she confided in her mother that there was something she had not told her or the doctors. Allison's mother feared initially that her daughter was going to say she had been using and abusing hard drugs, but no. Allison said that four or five days before she began losing weight, she woke in the dead of night to see a pale-faced woman attired in a long and black hooded robe standing next to her bed. The woman was very tall, around six foot three or four. Her skin was white and her eyes were staring and bulging. Allison found herself unable to move as the woman closed in on her, looming over the bed as Allison struggled to move. The woman gave a loud, satisfying groan at the very same time that Allison suddenly felt ill and cold. The woman retreated into the darkness of the bedroom and vanished. Allison put the whole thing to a bad dream and told her mother that she didn't think any more about it. That is, until the pale hag returned the next night. And the next night. And, well, you get the picture. Allison's mother listened in fear and dread. As her daughter told her now, every night for weeks, the woman appeared in the bedroom. And, all the time, Allison was getting sicker and thinner. Allison even claimed to have seen the woman in her hospital room, as if, said Allison, the woman in black knew where she was at all times. Allison confided one other thing in her mother. Four or five nights before the woman first appeared, Allison and two of her friends had been playing with an old Ouija board. Allison's mother was more terrified than she was angry. After all, she only wanted to get her daughter well, not pass judgment when she was severely ill. As luck or fate would have it, Allison's mother had a friend, Jennifer, who worked in the field of alternative medicine and who also had deep knowledge of the world of the supernatural. Jennifer agreed to perform a cleansing of not just the family home, but also of Allison herself. Since the pale supernatural woman only ever appeared at night, Jennifer said it would be a good idea for her to sit in the bedroom while Allison slept to ensure that if the woman did appear, she would be ready to deal with her. Jennifer arrived the following evening, armed to the teeth with just about everything she needed to ensure that the evil entity in the home would be banished for good. Jennifer's weapons included sea salt, which is said to have the ability to prevent supernatural creatures from crossing certain thresholds, including doorways to rooms. So Jennifer scattered more than liberal amounts of sea salt at the front and back doors of the home, in front of Allison's bedroom and across the window sill in her room. Also traditionally and for centuries, Sage has been seen as both a powerful protector and a cleanser, so Jennifer did what she does best. She performed a lengthy cleansing program that went on for several hours. Then it was a case of watching and waiting. Allison's mother stayed in the living room at the suggestion of Jennifer, who sat by Allison's bed, ready for just about anything. The black-garbed woman did not put in an appearance, but there were two inexplicable things that did happen that night. Allison's bedroom was briefly filled with an odor like rotting meat, and for a few moments, rapid scratching noises were heard on the walls of the bedroom. Allison and Jennifer held hands tightly and prayed that the hideous thing would leave and leave now. By all accounts, the rituals worked. The eerie woman was never seen again, and over the course of five or six weeks, Allison's health returned to normal. Today, now in her late 30s, Allison is convinced that whatever the woman was, she was feeding on her, something which led to the weight loss and anorexia-like side effects and symptoms. To this day, Allison keeps both sea salt and sage in her home, which today is in Arizona. Is all of this just illness, or are we really being zapped of our energy and life forces as we sleep at night? Coming up, Annie Dorman was discovered lifeless with a gunshot wound, sending shock waves through her tight-knit community. Suicide seemed improbable, leaving detectives baffled and her family perplexed. In a similar case, just a few years later, in the serene countryside of Greenwich, New York, the lifeless form of Maggie Hurrigan is found, floating in a tranquil pool. Speculation runs rampant. Were these cases suicide as hastily concluded, horrible accidents, or sinister murders? Strange creatures, gruesome murders, oozing organisms, unfathomable abductions, enigmatic expeditions, an age-old malevolence, and much more. Author J. C. Moore delivers a collection of dark horror tales that are both chilling and poignant. Dark Intrigue's Book One is filled with horror fiction for fans of short-story anthologies, horror collections, ghost fiction, suspense, possession, and more. Dark Intrigue's Book One by J. C. Moore, available on Kindle or as an audiobook narrated by Darren Marlar. Find Dark Intrigue's Book One on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash audiobooks. Two children playing near their house in Greenwich, New York the morning of Saturday, October 20th, 1889, found a woman's hat and jacket lying on a log and reported them to a group of men who were working on a road nearby. Ruben Stewart, superintendent of streets who was also president of the village, thought the circumstances were suspicious and went down to take a look for himself. It was a secluded spot about halfway between two villages with a small pool of water near the road. Stewart found the owner of the hat and jacket floating face down in the pool. The woman was soon identified as Maggie Horrigan. A hasty autopsy conducted by Dr. S. Walter Scott and several other physicians determined that she had drowned and a coroner's jury concluded that it had been suicide. No one who knew Maggie Horrigan believed that she had taken her own life. She was a healthy, attractive 19-year-old woman who worked as a servant for the family of Herbert Reynolds. Her employers described her as competent, industrious, tidy, cheerful and an agreeable person to have in the house. Her habits and manners were exemplary. She was naturally timid and not known to have a boyfriend. Maggie's friends said she was happy and lively when they were last together. She was a devout Catholic and her pastor, Father Fields, spoke of her in glowing terms and did not think it possible that she had committed suicide. District attorney Hull, fearing that the autopsy had not been thorough enough, ordered a second autopsy. This time a different team of doctors found a wound on the side of her head that was made before death and was sufficient to produce death or at least unconsciousness. Dr. Montgomery Jones testified that he believed that she was alive but unconscious when she entered the water, and the final direct cause of death was drowning. Two other doctors agreed that the wound was inflicted before death and she was either dead or unconscious when she entered the water. This time the coroner's jury said they were unable to determine the means or causes of Maggie Hurrigan's death. Maggie left the Reynolds House around 7 o'clock the night of October 19. She was to meet three of her friends, Ella and Bertha Obenauer and Julia Nolan in front of the post office. They were planning to spend the evening with Mrs. Sprague, the wife of the postmaster. Mrs. Sprague was an excellent musician, the girls had spent Wednesday evening listening to her and were anxious to do it again. When Maggie didn't show up at the post office, Julia and the Obenauer sisters called at the Reynolds looking for her, but no one knew where Maggie went. Maggie's body was found about a mile away from where she lived but in the opposite direction from the post office. Rumors were circulating surrounding the death. Two strange men were seen on a bridge near the pool where the body was found. A farmer said he heard men's voices and the sound of a struggle nearby, but it was too dark to see. A man's gold watch and chain were found at a stream near the pool, but there were no solid clues. The county offered a reward of $1500 for information leading to the arrest and conviction of Maggie Hurrigan's killer and District Attorney Hall hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency to investigate. After the second autopsy, an article in The New York Sun implied that Dr. Scott may have come to a false conclusion in the first autopsy because of a conflict of interest in the case. Dr. Scott's name came up numerous times in the investigation that followed. In January 1890, it was reported that Dr. Scott made a statement admitting to knowing more about the death than he first revealed. He said that on the night of Maggie's death, he was called by a man said to be Howard Bailey to attend to an injured girl. He found her in a field with three men who said that she had fallen and struck her head. She appeared to be dead and Dr. Scott told the men they were in a bad scrape and refused to advise them as to what to do. Either the report of Dr. Scott's admission was untrue or it was not taken at face value because soon after, the police brought in a man named Edward Scully for questioning after he told a different story. While drunk, Scully told someone he'd been sleeping in a barn near the bridge and two men came in carrying Maggie's body. They said that they'd been rioting in a carriage when the driver thought he recognized Maggie walking down the road. He tried to snap his whip and give her a start, but the carriage lurched and he hit her head with the butt of the whip. They said for a doctor, but she was dead by the time he arrived. The man offered the doctor $500 to keep quiet. The police knew Scully by reputation and had reason to believe he knew about the murder, though a young man he had already served time for horse-stealing and burglary. In custody, Scully denied any knowledge of the case. He said he may have spoken of the murder but never told the story that the police had heard. Scully was able to prove that he was not in Greenwich on the night of October 19th. About a month later, Scully and his father told the police that a man named Lawton Wilbur had come to their house and talked about the murder. The police arrested Lawton Wilbur on suspicion of murder, but he was not held. With little progress being made on the case, the Governor of New York offered another $1,000 reward for the capture of her killer. The following July, an inmate at Danimora Prison named Merritt Shuler claimed to have information on the murder. District Attorney Hall went to Danimora to interview Shuler, who was serving five years for forgery. He'd been living near Greenwich at the time of the murder and had seen Dr. Scott pick up Maggie Horrigan in his carriage and drive away with her. Shuler said he would provide the whole story, if he were granted a full pardon from the Governor. Hall said he was favorably impressed with the story and would swear Shuler in at the next session of the grand jury. However, it does not appear that he took Shuler up on his offer. Allegations of his connection to the death of Maggie Horrigan had hurt Dr. Scott's practice to such an extent that in May 1892 he sued the New York Sun for $20,000 in damages for a libelous article in October 1889 regarding his autopsy. In the court case, Dr. Scott presented evidence from a coroner and other doctors that Maggie had in fact died of drowning as his autopsy concluded. District Attorney Hall, arguing in favor of the Sun, said that if he had not ordered a second autopsy, it would not be known that Maggie Horrigan was foully murdered. The jury awarded Dr. Scott $10,000 in damages. The Sun appealed the verdict and December 1893 the settlement was reached awarding Dr. Scott $6,000. The true circumstances of Maggie Horrigan's death remain a mystery. Four years later, in Philadelphia, a similar case arose with a woman's death being declared suicide yet nobody believed it. John Dorman left his farmhouse to work in the fields at about 1.15 the afternoon of September 1, 1897. His wife Lizzie had some banking to take care of and left for Philadelphia at about 2 o'clock. As usual, they left their children in the care of John's half-sister Annie, 18-year-old Annie Dorman had lived with John and his wife at their cobs Creek home off and on for the previous five years, working as a nurse to their four children. Around 3 o'clock that day, a neighbor, Mrs. Myers, came by to chat with Annie leaving about 10 minutes later. At 4.30, one of the children found Annie lying on the floor of the second-story front room, dead from a gunshot wound. The children ran for their father who returned to the house with Al Myers, Stableboss at nearby Melbourne Hills. They found Annie stretched out on the floor with a pistol lying by her hand. There was no sign of a struggle and nothing had been taken. The men could only conclude that Annie had taken her own life. But suicide was unlikely for a number of reasons. No one who knew Annie could imagine what could have driven her to kill herself. She was bright and pretty, with an even and sweet temperament and was always cheerful. Her boyfriend, Ernest L. Pendleberry, was steady and honest. She was a religious girl, healthy in mind and body, a favorite among the congregation of Sarah D. Cooper Methodist Church. The circumstance of Annie's death made suicide all but impossible. The pistol was old and rusty, sitting unused for at least two years, high on a shelf in the room where she was found. Annie was only five feet tall and would not be able to reach the pistol without standing on something and none of the furniture had been moved. Chief Barry of the Chester Police Department examined the pistol and found it so rusty that it took all his might to cock it and pull the trigger. It had been fired five times. Two shots went through the ceiling, one went through a washboard under a window, one shot shattered Annie's jaw, and one shot went through her heart. The shot through the heart had killed her, but the shot to the jaw had been so severe that she would not have been able to fire another. Since nothing had been stolen, it was thought that Annie may have been raped. When the body was found, her dress had been smoothed as if to hide signs of a struggle, but the top had been opened exposing her chest. A medical examiner determined that Annie had not been raped, in fact, was still a virgin. The inquest held at the Dorman Homestead on October 5th revealed that the household had not been as peaceful as it first appeared. A letter from Annie's father said that John's wife had not treated her right. One witness said that he'd seen Annie crying on several occasions and had seen Mrs. Dorman chase her with a broom. Lizzie Dorman admitted that once during a quarrel with Annie she had grabbed her by the throat, but generally their relations had been pleasant. Their disagreements were seen as trivial, hardly provoking murder and Mrs. Dorman was in the city at the time of the shooting. The coroner's jury ruled that Annie Dorman was shot by a person or persons unknown. The Philadelphia Inquirer speculated that a man who knew Annie and was familiar with the place had been watching and knew when she was alone. He entered the house between 3.30 and 4 and approached Annie with one intention. She at once detected the foulness of that intention. She pleaded with him, then threatened him. It was someone she knew and he realized he'd gone too far and must silence her. He reached for the gun and she rushed him, fighting for her honor and her life. Three shots were fired wildly before the two that killed her. The murderer then placed the gun by her side and smoothed down the dress to hide evidence of a struggle, but like all takers of life left the one mute piece of evidence in the shape of the exposed bosom. But there was no way to prove any of this and no way to determine the identity of the man or even whether the killer was a man. With no leads to follow and no funds available to hire professional detectives, Delaware County District Attorney W.I. Schaefer was forced to drop the investigation. The circumstances of Annie Dorman's murder would remain a mystery. Coming up, Jeremy Bentham was a philosopher whose ideas about mortality and utility extended beyond death. Bentham's wish was for his body to be preserved and displayed as an auto icon so it could be seen publicly by all. And while his wishes were granted, it came with a few hiccups along the way, mostly with his poor head. But first, Helen Duncan made a living from conducting seances, until her uncanny knowledge of classified World War II tragedies spooked British authorities. That story is up next on Weird Darkness. Are you a member of the Darkness Syndicate? The Darkness Syndicate is a private membership where you receive commercial-free episodes of the Weird Darkness podcast and radio show. Behind the scenes, video updates about future projects and events I'm working on. You can share your own opinions on ideas to help me decide upon Weird Darkness contests and events. You can hear audiobooks I'm narrating before even the publishers or authors get to hear them. You also receive bonus audio of other projects I'm working on outside of Weird Darkness. You get all of these benefits and more, starting at only $5 per month. Join the Weird Darkness Syndicate at WeirdDarkness.com-Syndicate. That's WeirdDarkness.com-Syndicate. On March 23, 1944, deep into World War II, crowds filed into London's Old Bailey, just as they had for two centuries. As the site of criminal justice in the city, the storied institution hosted scores of high-profile court cases ranging from the salacious to the sinister. Yet on that early spring day, the Old Bailey was a staging ground for a trial unlike any others. Centuries after the last person had been executed for witchcraft in Britain, a medium named Helen Duncan stood accused of the same offense, and she would soon become the last person imprisoned under a witchcraft-themed law in Great Britain. Duncan's path to the Old Bailey was paved with state secrets and dramatic raids. It is the story of how a middle-aged mother of six spooked the wartime establishment and paid for it dearly. Born in 1897, Helen McFarland chafed against the confines of her life in the small Scottish town of Callender. Nicknamed Hellish Nell, she seemed to possess other worldly gifts. Young Helen McFarland could supposedly see spirits. By 1926, Hellish Nell, whose name changed after she married Henry Duncan in 1916, was working as a medium, first in Dundee, Scotland, and then across the country to support her growing family, which would eventually include six children. Duncan found and primed audiences for her work. After World War I and a deadly influenza pandemic had left millions of corpses in their wake, many Britons embraced spiritualism, a belief system that claimed the living could contact the dead. Duncan conducted her seances in the dark, illuminated only by a soft red light. Sitting behind curtains, she entered a trance and relied on her spirit guides, whom she called Peggy and Albert, to lead the proceedings. During sittings, Duncan produced ectoplasm, which poured from her mouth and nose, a ghostly white substance that seemed to materialize in the shape of spirits. It shocked and amazed her sitters. As Duncan's fame spread, she attracted the attention of skeptics like Harry Price, a psychical researcher. With Duncan's permission, Price investigated her in 1931. He believed Duncan was a fraud, and though he could not definitively prove how she produced ectoplasm, he had a theory. Her ectoplasm was simply cheesecloth and egg whites that she swallowed and then regurgitated. Moreover, the spirits she materialized looked like dolls, not real people. Price's conclusion did not deter her fans, however. They scrambled to attend her seances, even as Britain careened once more toward war. On September 3, 1939, Great Britain entered World War II. As the country shifted to a wartime footing, it tightened the flow of information to bolster morale and prevent military secrets from falling into the wrong hands. One potential source of leaks that the tabloid press worried about? Mediums. If mediums conjured the spirits of soldiers, the rationale went, what would stop enemy spies from learning intelligence through seances? Helen Duncan was not conducting seances for Nazis, but the war found Duncan as her work continued across Britain. On May 24, 1941, he was leading a sitting in Edinburgh when a spirit delivered shocking news – a British warship had sunk. Roy Firebrace, Scotland's chief of military intelligence, was at the sitting. His high-ranking position made him privy to confidential information, yet he had heard no such news. After the seance, he fact-checked Duncan's allegations and learned that, yes, the HMS Hood had recently been lost in the Battle of Denmark How had she known before him? Then in November 1941, Duncan was channeling in Portsmouth, England, when the apparent spirit of a sailor brought news of another naval disaster. A German submarine had torpedoed the HMS Barham, which went down with 862 souls. The British government would not publicly acknowledge the sinking until January 1942. How had Duncan known about these classified events? Authorities quickly kept tabs on her. Two years later, Duncan was back in Portsmouth. Her audience included Lieutenant Stanley Worth, a Royal Navy officer. Worth doubted Duncan's abilities, especially when she claimed to have conjured the spirits of Worth's very much alive relatives. Eager to expose Duncan as a fraud, Worth attended another sitting, this time with a disguised police officer. In the middle of the seance, the policemen sprang from his seat, pulled back Duncan's curtain, and arrested her. The specter of witchcraft had long haunted English and Scottish courts, especially in the 16th century, when witchcraft was a crime punishable by death. According to tradition, the last person executed for witchcraft in Great Britain was Janet Horn in 1727. By the time of Duncan's arrest, however, British courts instead typically charged fraudulent mediums with violating the Vagrancy Act, a 19th century law aimed at preventing fortune tellers and psychics from defrauding the public. Yet the prosecution feared that Duncan could be acquitted on the technicality that she charged for admission to seances, not for magic services rendered. And so, authorities accused Duncan of violating the 1735 Witchcraft Act, which had been passed just 10 years after Horn's execution and was meant to drag the country into the modern age by simply punishing people who claimed to practice or accused others of practicing witchcraft. It carried a sentence of imprisonment. Though Duncan's trial could have been in Portsmouth, the magistrates decided that due to the unusually grave nature of the case, she should be tried at London's Central Criminal Court, the Old Bailey. Between the atypical charge and the high-profile stage, Duncan's trial was destined to be a media circus when it began on March 23, 1944. The press breathlessly reported on what amounted to a modern witch trial. It even captured the notice of Prime Minister Winston Churchill who called the peculiar proceedings obsolete tongue foolery. On April 3, the jury reached its verdict. Guilty. On June 6, 1944, only months after Duncan's trial, Allied troops launched a secret invasion of Nazi-occupied France. The timing between Duncan's arrest and D-Day has led some to theorize that the British government targeted the Spanish medium to prevent her from revealing state secrets ahead of the invasion. Historian Francis Young cautions there is nothing to substantiate these rumors directly, but does concede that the courts did treat Duncan most unusually. As D-Day unfolded hundreds of miles away, Duncan's team was preparing a Hail Mary appeal. It failed, and so Helen Duncan entered Holloway Prison, becoming the last person to be imprisoned under the Witchcraft Act. One more person would be convicted under the law. 72-year-old medium Jane York was fined five pounds in September 1944 but saw no prison time before it would be repealed in 1951. After her release in late 1944, Duncan resumed channeling, making her the target of more police raids. Duncan's supporters continued to rally around her. Even after she died in 1956, they petitioned the British government to pardon her. The mystery of Duncan's art survived her death, since no one knows for certain how she knew of the hood and Barum's fate. Like the discarnate spirits she conjured, Duncan's secrets vanished with her. Born in 1748, Jeremy Bentham was a 19th-century English philosopher, economist, and social reformer. Bentham had interesting ideas about mortality and mourning, which shaped how he wanted his remains handled after his passing. By Bentham's request, his preserved body was to be on public display and used for instruction. Bentham adopted and followed a practical life philosophy. He aimed for usefulness, even in the afterlife. The reality of what happened to his body after he passed in 1832, however, wasn't quite what he intended. Bentham's remains, especially his head, took on a fascinating, if not horrifying, transformation. Bentham decided he did not want to remain, as he put it, altogether useless after his passing and came up with the concept of the auto icon. Bentham envisioned the auto icon as an accessible body ready for someone to wheel out at parties upon request. Bentham hoped by preserving his body, his friends could still see him and may feel inspired to donate their bodies for similar purposes. From an early age, Bentham knew what he wanted to happen to his body after he passed. He wished for someone to dissect, embalm and display his body as a model for the world to see. As he came closer to the end, Bentham grew increasingly focused on the specifics of his impending mummification and display. He allegedly carried a pair of glass eyes with him during his final decade of life for easy insertion into his head when his body was on display. Bentham perished on June 6, 1832, at the age of 84. He tasked Dr. Thomas Southwood Smith with fulfilling his wishes. Three days after Bentham's passing, Dr. Smith dissected his body as instructed during an anatomy lecture. Bentham's closest friends received invitations the day before, which read, It was the earnest desire of the late Jeremy Bentham that his body should be appropriated to an illustration of the structure and functions of the human frame. In compliance with his wish, Dr. Smith will deliver a lecture over the body on the usefulness of the knowledge of this kind to the community. The lecture will be delivered at the Web Street School of Anatomy and Medicine Web Street Borough tomorrow at three o'clock, at which the honor of your presence and that of any two friends who may wish to accompany you is requested." In addition to Bentham's friends in attendance, the dissection audience included noted medical professionals, philanthropists, and several members of the government. Autopsies and the study of anatomy were controversial at the time. Dr. Smith allegedly said to the onlookers at Bentham's dissection, If I can promote the happiness of the living, then it is my duty to conquer the reluctance. I may feel to such a disposition of the dead, however well founded or strong that reluctance may be. His skeleton was put back together, but there was a problem with his head. Once the dissection was complete, Dr. Smith stripped Bentham's body of its flesh. He reassembled the skeleton, but left the head detached. The preservation had unexpected results. Bentham's head looked leathery and gaunt rather than maintaining its form. Dr. Smith wrote about the process, I endeavored to preserve the head untouched merely drawing away the fluids by placing it under an air pump over sulfuric acid. By this means, the head was rendered as hard as the skulls of the New Zealanders, but all expression was, of course, gone. Despite Dr. Smith's efforts to keep Bentham's head well preserved, his methods proved ineffective. Thanks to the sulfuric acid, Bentham's head was too discolored and misshapen to remain on his body. As a result, Dr. Smith commissioned a likeness of his friend's head in wax. French artist Jacques Talrich used a bust of Bentham, a portrait by Henry Pickersgill, and a moorning ring adorned with Bentham's profile as guides while sculpting the new head. Talrich was known for his anatomical models and, according to Smith, created one of the most admirable likenesses ever seen. The finished wax head rested on top of Bentham's skeleton. Dr. Smith arranged Bentham's body adorned in a black suit inside a glass and mahogany case. At first, Bentham, who posed, seated in the chair and held the walking stick, which was his constant companion when he was out, called by him Dapple, was placed at Dr. Smith's house. The display was too big for the doctor's home, however, so he donated Bentham's body to University College London. At the university, the display had Bentham's disfigured head between the body's feet, where it remained until 1975. In 1975, a group of students at University College London stole Bentham's head and demanded the university donate £100 to charity. The school's response was a $10 donation. The students caved and returned the head to the school unharmed. In a series of continued pranks, students pilfered the head for various purposes. It was purportedly used as a soccer ball on one occasion and later students from the school's rival King's College stole it. The university removed the head from the case to prevent further theft. Because it showed signs of deterioration, researchers transferred Bentham's head to the UCL Institute of Archaeology's climate-controlled storeroom in 2002. The department pulls the head out for special occasions and checks on it regularly to make sure more hair is not fallen off. Researchers Philip Lucas and Ann Sheeran are proponents of using the head to investigate Bentham's DNA. During his life, writings described Bentham as eccentric, reclusive and difficult to get a hold of. Lucas and Sheeran planned to test Bentham's DNA for autism and Asperger's syndrome. The DNA samples are weak, given the age, and ideal samples should come from bacteria in Bentham's mouth. However, scientists are hopeful that they will be able to better understand Bentham after their studies are complete. Bentham was an atheist and considered the religious practices surrounding the deceased as against utilitarian principles. He rejected the idea of resurrection and the continuation of one's soul. He was critical of organized religion as an instrument of intimidation, corruption and delusion. He also believed society should face the realities of mortality instead of being afraid of or avoiding the topic entirely. Bentham embraced mortality and aimed to find usefulness in it while alleviating these social pressures around it. According to Bentham, the creation of auto-icons meant there would no longer be in need for monuments of stone or marble. There would be no danger to health from the accumulation of corpses and the use of churchyards would gradually be done away. Auto-icons could reside in museums and other common areas, diminishing the fear of mortality by getting rid of its deformities. It would leave the agreeable associations and disperse the disagreeable. Both Bentham and Dr. Smith were supporters of the Anatomy Act, a parliamentary action of 1832, making it easier for doctors to dissect human bodies for medical purposes. Bentham may have helped author the initial versions of the Act, which made their way through Parliament during the 1820s. He also supported the mission financially. The goal of Bentham and others was to make it less taboo for non-criminal offenders to serve as subjects for dissection, which was common in the early 19th century. Bentham's passing in 1832 served as an opportunity for him to match his body to his ideas. In the months following Bentham's demise, Dr. Smith lobbied hard for the law, which made it legal for unclaimed bodies from workhouses to undergo dissection. The Act was less than perfect and critics claimed it unfairly targeted the poor, but it also helped bring an end to grave robbing and body snatching, both of which were a big problem at the time. Bentham's auto icon left London for the first time in 180 years in early 2018 as he made his way across the Atlantic Ocean to the United States. Moving Bentham required exhaustive efforts, while simultaneously revealing more about the body to the public. According to Jane Dunn, head of collections management at University College London, Bentham is wearing the original underwear, which has not got infested, and two sets of stockings, one over the other. That might have been the fashion then. Over the top, he has a vest, which is the original. While there were no signs of infestation, Bentham's stuffing shifted around with time. Bentham's head, the real one, did not make the trip. Habits. Good or bad, everyone has them. Most are ordinary, some might be a bit odd to outsiders, but then there are those who have some very strange habits, and often it is the rich and famous. We'll look at a few eccentric habits of history's elite when Weird Darkness returns. Nothing goes better with chocolate than vanilla. And nothing goes better with the darkness than vampires. So we've combined all of them into a new blend of weird dark roast coffee called Very Vampilla. This bloody good blend combines a medium dark roast coffee with hints of chocolate, vanilla, and just a tad bit of dried cherry, too. So good, you'll want to sink your fangs into the fresh roasted bag itself. Weird dark roast Very Vampilla, the only thing at steak, sorry, not sorry, bad pun, is your dissatisfaction with your old coffee. Sip it while the sun is down if you're one of the undead. Or when the sun is up if you just feel dead and need a bit of a boost. Get your Weird Dark Roast Very Vampilla at WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. There's something about money that makes people do some really weird things. Or maybe it's just that the money gives them the courage to let their freak flag fly. From bizarre hygiene rituals to everyday food choices, these stars have left a mark on society. They prove that wealth and eccentricity often go hand in hand. Join me for a moment as we dive into a few eccentric habits of the rich and famous throughout history. Let's jump into our first kooky habit. Welcome to the world of Howard Hughes. He was a tycoon of aviation and film with a peculiar habit that tops the charts in the Weirdness Department. Hughes fixated on cleanliness to a degree that would make most germaphobes seem casual. He often strutted around wearing tissue boxes as footwear. That's right, cardboard shoe covers to prevent his feet from touching the dreaded floor. Hughes took it to an entirely different level. He went so far as to write his own manual for his employees on conducting various tasks, such as preparing and serving cans of peaches. It's hard to fathom what went on inside his head. Still, one thing is certain, Hughes' life was marked by bizarre behaviors that captured the public's imagination. His germaphobia was just one facet of his peculiarities, which extended to his reclusive lifestyle and obsessive compulsive tendencies. Nicola Tesla was a brilliant inventor and electric wizard, and he had a connection with pigeons that was nothing short of extraordinary. He didn't just appreciate these birds. He believed they communicated with him on a profound level. Tesla's days in New York City were often filled with feeding and caring for pigeons in the parks, yet a particular white pigeon held a special place in his heart. Tesla claimed that this feathered friend was his muse. He even claimed to receive inspiration and messages from these pigeons. While most of us may not grasp the intricacies of his avian dialogue, it was central to his creative process. Tesla's pigeon obsession adds a surreal layer to his already enigmatic persona. That's kind of weird, but how do you question the mind behind inventions that changed the world? Salvador Dali was a surrealist maestro, but he too had a surreal daily ritual. When you think of artists at work, you might picture them with brushes and canvases. For Dali, the key to inspiration lay in the art of napping. Dali was a firm believer in the power of the micro siesta. His method was unique. He would sit in an uncomfortable chair with a key lightly clutched in his fingers. As he began to doze off, the key would slip from his grasp and hit a plate below. The key's clatter would jolt him away. It was an odd practice known as slumber with a key. This unusual approach allowed Dali to tap into his dreams for artistic inspiration. By straddling the line between wakefulness and sleep, he harnessed the surreal landscapes of his subconscious mind. Once away, he brought them to life on his canvases. Dali's power naps were the stuff of legends, and they elevated him to the status of a true artistic icon. If you've seen The Godfather or a streetcar named Desire, you know about the iconic Marlon Brando. But did you know he had a somewhat unconventional way of enjoying his morning coffee? Instead of sipping a piping hot cup of joe like most of us, Brando was a fan of tossing ice cubes into his coffee. But why? Ice coffee might be well known to us today, but it was unheard of back in the day and would have appeared very strange. Brando reasoned that it cooled the coffee enough to drink it immediately. In a world where people are impatiently blowing on their scalving beverages, Brando's approach stands out. This peculiar habit, though simple, speaks volumes about his laid-back and uncomplicated approach to life. Queen Elizabeth I of England and Ireland ruled from 1558 to 1603. She was one of history's most influential monarchs and had a rather unusual habit when it came to her appearance. She was known for her extraordinarily pale complexion, but achieving this look came at a significant cost. The Queen used a concoction of white lead and vinegar as makeup. Yes, lead. It was a combination that was bizarre and dangerous to her health. This makeup practice was a reflection of the fashion trends of her era. In Elizabethan England, only the nobility had pale skin. It suggested that you did not need to labor outdoors. However, the consequences of using such toxic substances were dire. Its use often led to skin damage, poisoning, and even death. Queen Elizabeth's obsession with maintaining her pale appearance was a clear result of society's toxic expectations. Nearly everybody knows Andy Warhol's work. He is the iconic pop artist famous for depicting celebrities and consumer goods, but he was obsessed with something that might surprise you. Fast food. More specifically, he had an unapologetic love for McDonald's. Warhol's daily routine often included indulging in a McDonald's meal. He frequented the fast food chain so regularly that he ate there almost every day for over two decades. He even incorporated a McDonald's bag into one of his art pieces. But what's the connection between fast food and the world of art? For Warhol, it was about embracing objects and experiences that define modern life. McDonald's epitomized this idea in his mind. So the next time you enjoy a burger and fries from your favorite fast food place, remember you might be sharing a culinary connection with one of the greatest artists of the 20th century. Have you ever heard of an air bath? Nope, don't worry, neither did I, but founding father Benjamin Franklin was a huge proponent. Franklin believed in the stimulating power of fresh air and participated in a daily ritual known as air baths. Franklin's air baths were simple, but unusual. He would rise early, sit naked in his room, and throw open the windows to let the outside air rush in. This practice he believed not only refreshed the body but also revitalized the mind. Franklin's devotion to his air baths was driven by his belief and the benefits of natural elements. He considered them a form of health maintenance and a way to kickstart his day with renewed energy and focus. While most of us opt for a hot shower to wake up, Franklin's fresh air bath demonstrates his commitment to holistic well-being. It also provides a glimpse into the mind of a man who was not afraid to challenge conventional wisdom in pursuit of personal betterment. Few rival the king of pop, both in talent and eccentricity. Michael Jackson's deep affection for elephants was one of his most unusual yet lovable. Jackson had a pet elephant named Gypsy. Gypsy even joined Jackson on his bad tour traveling with the pop sensation to locations worldwide. This love for elephants wasn't just a passing fancy for Jackson. He had a unique connection with animals. Elephants, with their intelligence, grace and majesty, seemed to captivate him. Gypsy was a constant companion and their relationship captured the public's imagination. Jackson's affinity for elephants reminds us that fame and fortune allow individuals to fulfill the most unusual desires. It also highlights the profound connections between humans and animals, transcending boundaries and expectations. For Jackson, Gypsy was not just an exotic pet, but a symbol of his complex personality. We all read a story or two by the literary genius Charles Dickens. He's known for classics like A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations and, of course, A Christmas Carol. But did you know that he had a unique and somewhat eerie writing habit? In the dead of night, he would take long, solitary walks through the labyrinth streets of London. These midnight strolls weren't merely a form of exercise for Dickens. They were a part of his creative process. He found inspiration in the bustling, mysterious streets of the city after dark. The characters, stories and atmosphere of London's nocturnal world seeped into his mind and found their way into his novels. Dickens was known to walk for miles, often losing himself in the city's alleys and thoroughfares. During these walks, he refined his storytelling skills and honed his ability to capture the essence of Victorian London. And the famous Albert Einstein was a brilliant theoretical physicist whose name is synonymous with genius. Yet he had a notably relaxed approach when it came to his wardrobe. One aspect of his personal style that raised eyebrows was his habit of going sockless. Einstein's rationale for foregoing socks was as simple as it was unconventional. He believed socks were unnecessary, since wearing shoes already protected his feet. He also had issues with his big toes, causing large holes in his socks. Instead of wasting time sorting pairs, he focused on more profound matters like unraveling the mysteries of the universe. In a world where many are preoccupied with appearances, Einstein's sockless approach reminds us that true brilliance transcends the need for conformity. Einstein's legacy is not just about the theory of relativity, it's also about embracing individuality and focusing on what truly matters in life. But apparently that's not socks. Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do. You can email me and follow me on social media through the Weird Darkness website. WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can find information on sponsors you heard about during the show, listen to free audiobooks I've narrated, get the email newsletter, find my other podcasts including Church of the Undead, and a sci-fi podcast, Auditory Anthology. Also on the site you can visit the store for Weird Darkness t-shirts, mugs and other merchandise. Plus, it's where you can find the Hope in the Darkness page if you or someone you know is struggling with depression, addiction or thoughts of harming yourself or others. And if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell of your own, you can click on Tell Your Story. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. All stories on Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise and you can find links to the stories or the authors in the show notes. Supernaturally Sick, Paranormally Poisoned is by Nick Redfern for Mysterious Universe. The Mysterious Deaths of Annie Dorman and Maggie Horrigan is by Robert Wilhelm for Murder by Gaslight. The Strange Story of Mr. Bentham's Corpse was written by Melissa Sartore for Weird History. Britain's Last Witch is by Parisa Zhangi for National Geographic. And Eccentric Habits of History's Elite was written by John Munoz for Listverse. Weird Darkness is a registered trademark. Copyright Weird Darkness. And now that we are coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. Romans 15 verse 1, We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. And a final thought. The biggest thing in life you will regret are the risks that you didn't take. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me. In the Weird Darkness.