When I moved out of my house that I shared with Sally, I moved into my friends house, who later became my husband. He used to tell me stories of when he was a little boy.
It was said that a man who lived around three curves distance from my house, lived in a little house with his mother.
His name was John King, and according to the story he killed his mother and chopped her up into pieces and shoved her down the well that was on the property.
He was never convicted of a crime, and lived in that house until he died. They burried him in the local cemetary. After he passed away, they burned the house to the ground and cemented the well shut.
While the rest of my hollar was being settled in they had to dig up all the bodies in the cemetary and move them somewhere else.
Some of the bodies were lost or left behind but John's grave was exsumed and no one knows where he is burried now.
My husband's aunt tells the story of when she would walk to her sister's house who lives up the hollow a little ways and stay till after dark, she'd be terrified to walk home, becuase as soon as she'd walk past Johns old house, he'd chase her all the way home.
I didnt believe it when I first moved in, I though they were just telling me that to scare me.
One evening coming home from picking my friends up from work we were headed back to my house. We decided to go up the road to see if we could find the playground that my other roommates had been talking about.
It was around midnight and it was really dark so we passed up the playground without seeing it. When we hit the dead end we turned around to head back home.
When we got to where John King used to live, (at the time I had no idea where he lived), I saw a man walk across the road. We all saw him plain as day.
I slowed the vehicle but it was odd because he didnt even accknolage that we were there. He was wearing a white shirt, jeans and boots, and had short dark hair.
I didnt get a good look at his face because he didnt face us at all. Before he made it to the side of the road he dissapeared. poof. gone. I paniced, the other girls screamed at me to go, so I slamed the gas.
We were going so fast we passed up my house and had to turn around. I told my husband when he got home the next morning,(he's a coal miner on night shift) about the man I saw.
He made me drive him to where we saw the man cross the road. When I told him to stop the car he explained to me that it was the entrance to his driveway and his chicken coops used to be across the road.
That is the last time I've been up that far past my house, and I dont think I care to go again, at least not alone. I have heard some other stories from several diffrent people though about thier experiances seeing John King, and they have all been women.
I thought that was a little odd, but some believe because he killed his mother he only shows himself to women. I guess we will never know.