Episode Transcript
[00:00:05] Good evening, I'm Ben and welcome to the show where you and I gather around this campfire to hear some of our fellow campers scariest experiences. Whether you're a new or returning camper, I'm happy to have you. Tonight we are headed to Fryberg, Maine to hear a story sent in by George Maxwell, a ghost hunter from New Hampshire. His story is about the night he and his friend Mike tried to film a video for their YouTube at the Admiral Piri Inn.
[00:00:33] As always, before we begin the show, if you would like to check out our camp's bonus episodes, head to patreon.com dhearagostory. You'll also gain early AD, free access to episodes, get a shout out at the end of one, and much more. Now, without further ado, do you want to hear a ghost story?
[00:00:53] We arrived at the Admiral Peary Inn during a frigid off season night. The bed and breakfast nestled in Freiburg, Maine was an inviting cocoon against the creeping cold of outside. The place had that feeling, an undeniable weight of history, the kind that settles in through the floorboards and whispers secrets to all those who dare listen. The walls were adorned with old portraits, the kind that watched you, and the air held a faint scent of aged wood and forgotten stories. The co host of my YouTube channel, Mike and I were experienced in exploring the paranormal. For our small YouTube account, we expected another quiet night of storytelling and mild scares as we checked into the quaint little inn.
[00:01:39] If you hear anything tonight, don't go into the attic.
[00:01:46] Though there was a laugh that followed her statement, her unsettled expression lingered like she just knew something we didn't. Like she knew that Mike and I just really pretended to believe in all this. Mike and I exchanged glances. Our curiosity sparked. Her warning wasn't one we could simply ignore.
[00:02:08] The night started uneventfully. We filmed some intros, got our gear in place, and explored the hallways. The inn was larger than it seemed at first, filled with hallways that stretched as long as you could see, and their corners are always darker than they should be. Every creak of the old house felt amplified. Each shadow seemed to move at the edge of all our videos. I found myself in the study, surrounded by old books and maps, many of which were left by Admiral Peary himself from his very own expeditions. The room had a particular chill to it, a draft that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. I was tracing a frayed arctic map when I heard a scraping sound behind me, like a chair was being drug across the floor.
[00:02:59] I turned around, expecting Mike to be there, pulling a prank on me. But the room was empty and the chill was deepening. Then above me, another sound, a dragging, shuffling noise in the attic. Don't go into the the warning hung in the back of my mind, half thrill, half fear, but I couldn't help myself. I wandered towards the attic.
[00:03:25] I called out for Mike. Mike?
[00:03:28] No answer. The silence was thick, oppressive, but my curiosity gnawed at me. I had to see what was up there.
[00:03:37] With each step of the creaking staircase, my pulse quickened, a mix of dread and excitement filling me. The attic door, just a simple wooden barrier with a brass knob, seemed to hum under my touch as if it were alive.
[00:03:54] The attic was very dark except for a shard of moonlight cutting through the heavy dust, riddled air illuminating the space in a pale glow. My eyes were drawn to an old rocking chair swaying gently, as though someone had just risen from it. The air was colder up here, my breath misting out in front of me. I squinted my eyes into the dimness. A silhouette in the far corner, tall, cloaked in furs with something strapped to its back.
[00:04:26] Whoever it was stood unnaturally still, and as he turned, his eyes found mine. They were clouded, distant, like two icicles. The room's temperature plummeted, an arctic chill cutting through my bones. Each breath was visible. And then I heard it. A whisper, barely there, distant, like a frozen wind over the tundra. Not ready. Fear shot through me, a primal kind of fear that clawed through my insides. I stumbled back, my heart pounding in my ears. The floorboards groaned beneath me as I backed away. My hand fumbled at the door. The figure moved then, deliberately and slow, the rocking chair still in its rhythm. As if acknowledging his presence, the whisper grew louder. Not ready. Not ready. Not ready. The words seemed to seep into my mind, cold and hollow.
[00:05:30] I threw the door open and it slammed behind me as I stumbled down the stairs.
[00:05:35] I became breathless as I reached the landing. Are you hearing it too? The whispers? Mike said to me.
[00:05:42] By this time it was morning, and we packed up all our gear in silence, our eyes meeting but no words being spoken.
[00:05:51] There was a shared understanding, an unspoken acknowledgment of something, something that was beyond explanation, something that, despite our YouTube channel, we had never experienced before.
[00:06:04] We moved through the inn. The house seemed to watch us, every creak of the floorboards like a warning or a shooing by whatever was here.
[00:06:15] As we checked out, the innkeeper left us with one more parting wisdom. You know, sometimes he returns. He watches over his maps I suppose he was always restless. The innkeeper's words lingered with us as we loaded the gear into our car. The sun was beginning to rise, its pale light barely touching the frost laden fields around us. I glanced back at the attic window, the rocking chair there, gently swaying back and forth, as though someone were still there, sitting, waiting, preparing for a journey that might never be completed.
[00:06:51] Even as we left, part of me knew the journey wasn't just Admiral Peary's. We had touched something that night. Something restless, something that whispered of unfinished business, unfinished adventures in a cold that never truly lets go. As we drove away, the weight of the experience settled in. The camera footage, which we later reviewed, showed nothing of the figure. But the sounds, the whispers, they were there, though not necessarily clear. Mike and I watched the footage in silence, a shiver running down our spines each time we replayed it.
[00:07:30] We had gone in expecting stories, a good YouTube video, but we left with something more. An encounter that defied explanation. A glimpse of a man who had long since left this world, but is still tethered here by his past and his unfinished voyage. Our journey to Freiburg had become more than a night at a haunted inn. It was a reminder of how really thin the veil is between the past and present. And how some spirits never truly leave us. The Admiral Pirie Inn, with its long hallways and shadowy corridors, had given us much more than we bargained for as we drove further away. As we drove further away and moved on with our life. That rocking, haunting chair still haunts my thoughts. I presume it still swaying gently in the attic, a sentinel for Admiral Peary's restless spirit, forever preparing for an expedition into the unknown.
[00:08:29] Thank you, George, for allowing me to share your story of the Admiral Perryen. It truly was a chilling tale. You know, it was full of suspense and it really got under my skin. First of all, I want to talk about the Admiral Perrien itself. It doesn't just seem like your normal bed and breakfast. From all the photos I can find online, it seems to be a place where history breathes through every nook and cranny of the building. You know, those houses that just have a lot of character? Either it's the way they were built, or there's just something there. And your story, might I say, incredibly well put together.
[00:09:06] It seemed to blend in all of the elements of a perfect storm that really frightened me. So now I ask all of you campers, what do you think? Have you ever felt the magnetic pull toward something you knew you shouldn't explore? And would you spend a night at the Admiral Piri Inn. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Let me know in the comments, but I suppose I will leave you here for the night. If you would like access to ad free episodes, a shout out at the end of one and more, check out patreon.com do you want to hear a ghost story?
[00:09:35] And as always, I am glad to have you all as campers on this journey. Please keep sharing the show with anyone you think might like these stories or someone you're just trying to scare. If you are enjoying the show, please go ahead and leave a review. I would love to hear from you. Until next time.
