The Haunting of the Old Spanish Bridge

Once upon a time in the far-off island of Guam, there lay a mysterious and eerie old structure known as the Old Spanish Bridge. The bridge, made of ancient stones and covered with moss and creeping vines, had long been the subject of numerous ghost stories and local legends. It had been built by the Spanish during their colonization of the island in the 18th century, and it was said to be haunted by the restless spirits of the long-dead Spanish soldiers and native Chamorro people who had met tragic ends.

The bridge was located deep within a dense forest, and only the most adventurous and daring would venture to explore its secrets. On a dark, moonless night, two curious teenagers, Maria and Juan, decided to set off on a journey to the Old Spanish Bridge to uncover the truth behind the whispered tales of its haunting. They had heard many accounts of ghostly apparitions, disembodied voices, and strange occurrences that could not be explained by any logical means. With flashlights in hand, they began their trek through the shadowy forest, guided only by the dim light of their torches and the distant sound of the Agana River.

As they walked deeper into the woods, the air around them grew colder, and an unsettling silence enveloped them. The trees seemed to whisper in the wind, and the shadows cast by their torches seemed to dance upon the forest floor. They could feel the weight of the darkness around them, as if the forest itself was watching their every move.

Finally, they arrived at the Old Spanish Bridge. It was an impressive structure, despite the centuries of decay and the relentless forces of nature. The massive stones, worn by time and weather, still stood strong against the current of the river below. Maria and Juan could feel the eerie atmosphere that surrounded the bridge, and they knew that they were not alone.

As they cautiously crossed the bridge, they began to hear faint whispers in the wind. The voices seemed to be calling out to them, begging for help, or perhaps seeking vengeance for some long-forgotten wrong. The air grew colder still, and a thick, unnatural fog began to rise from the river below. The ghostly mist enveloped the bridge, obscuring their vision and heightening their sense of unease.

Then, out of the fog, a figure emerged. It was a ghostly apparition, barely visible through the haze. The spirit was a tall, skeletal figure dressed in tattered Spanish soldier’s uniform, its eyes sunken and hollow, and its bony hand stretched out as if reaching for something—or someone. The ghost’s eyes met Maria and Juan’s, and they could feel the sorrow and pain that the spirit bore from its time on Earth.

The ghostly soldier began to speak, its voice barely audible over the howling wind. It told the story of a brutal battle that had taken place on the bridge centuries ago, between the Spanish and the native Chamorro people. The soldier had been a part of the conflict, and in the heat of battle, he had killed a young Chamorro girl who had been trying to protect her family.

Racked with guilt and unable to find peace in the afterlife, the ghost of the soldier remained tethered to the bridge, forever searching for the forgiveness that he could not find in life. Maria and Juan listened intently as the spirit recounted the horrors of the battle, the heartache of the families torn apart, and the devastation that had been wrought upon the island.

As the ghost finished its tale, Maria and Juan felt a deep sense of compassion and empathy for the spirit. They knew that they had to help the ghost find the forgiveness it sought so that it could finally be at peace. Together, they knelt on the bridge and said a heartfelt prayer for the souls of the soldier and the young girl, asking for forgiveness and understanding on their behalf. They prayed for all the lives lost in the battle and for the spirit to find solace in the afterlife.

As their prayer came to an end, the ghostly soldier’s eyes seemed to soften, and a hint of a smile appeared on its spectral face. The air around them began to warm, and the fog that had enveloped the bridge slowly dissipated. The spirit nodded gratefully at Maria and Juan, and with one final, longing look at the river below, it vanished into the night.

Maria and Juan remained on the bridge for a few moments, feeling a sense of closure and accomplishment. They had not only uncovered the truth behind the haunting of the Old Spanish Bridge but had also helped a tormented soul find peace. As they made their way back through the forest, they felt an overwhelming sense of serenity and a newfound respect for the power of forgiveness.

Word of their encounter with the ghost of the Old Spanish Bridge spread throughout the island, and the legend of the haunted bridge took on a new meaning. It became a symbol of the importance of forgiveness and understanding, a reminder of the tragedies that can occur when we allow hatred and division to rule our lives.

And so, the Old Spanish Bridge, once a place of fear and darkness, became a beacon of hope and redemption for the people of Guam, who would never forget the lessons they had learned from the ghosts of their past.

Legend of Payne Road (Edwards Rd) – Rural Hall, NC

There are many different versions of this story with some differences in the names and so on. However these are some of the more popular versions of the tale.

The first tale relates to the Payne Plantation, one of the largest home sites in the area. The plantation owner, Mr. Payne built the place on a valley with steep hills on all sides, and the mansion was situated on the north hill so that he could overlook the entire plantation. Slave shacks scattered the hillsides, and a creek ran through the center of the valley supplying water to the entire plantation.

A small chapel was located 250 yds and 45 degrees to the right of the mansion, and the main field was located 900 ft directly in front of the mansion. The slave shacks were located about 100 degrees to the right of the mansion, and then 200 yds in front of the house lay a small bridge, just large enough for one carriage.

This first story goes that Payne, the father of four girls, was an extremely racist man. The girls grew up isolated from the outside world due to Payne’s over-protectiveness. They grew to despise their father as well as to despise his cruelty to his slaves. Payne eventually learned that his oldest daughter was pregnant by one of his own slaves, and Payne quite literally lost his mind. He cursed the Lord and turned to devil-worship, brutally sacrificing the slave to the evil now within him. Then just a few months later, he learned that his youngest daughter was also pregnant by one of his slaves, and he then cracked once and for all. Payne brutally sacrificed that slave and began to storm through the shacks with anything he could lay his hands on, everything from sticks to muskets to farm tools. Then, in his maddening rage, he murdered his own family. Soon afterwards he burned just about his entire plantation, killing almost all of the remaining slaves. This is supposedly why the trees on Payne Road are so young and the grave stones are charred.

The second story is that of a 1933 or 1936 Ford, 3-window hot rod. The driver wrecked on Payne Road on the second to last curve, the sharpest, at almost 180 degrees. The curve is also located 45 degrees to the right of the old mansion site, in the same spot of the chapel (where Payne once worshipped Satan) stood. The driver is said to have died a slow death as bystanders stood by helplessly, watching the flames consume his car.

Many people today claim to see the rounded lights of the Ford following their car on Payne road all the way to the old chapel site, only to disappear as they cross over the bridge.

Another story simply tells of a man who lived in an old farm house on the site with his wife and four children back in the early 1800s. Yes, yes, obviously this story conflicts somewhat with the aforementioned Payne plantation.

One night, after once again arguing bitterly with his wife, the husband decided that the root of all his marital problems stemmed from his children. So he bound his wife to a chair in front of the fireplace and gagged her. He selected his biggest carving knife, then brought the oldest girl downstairs. “Kiss your mother goodnight” he told her, and as she did he went behind the girl with the knife. He then dispensed with his children one by one in this manner, finally going upstairs to get his last child, his infant daughter. But as he looked down at the little girl, he realized he couldn’t bring himself to slit her throat like he had done the others. So he decided instead to throw her down the well in back of the house. As he walked out the back door, the mother finally worked her way free of her restraints. She jumped up and ran out the front door, down the road, and grabbed her baby daughter from her husband’s grasp. Unfortunately, however, her husband managed to catch up to her at the bridge and neatly lopped her head off with his knife. Then did away with his daughter as he’d planned and finally grotesquely, he hung himself at the bridge.

Supposedly, if you go to the bridge, stop your car and whistle “Dixie” (you’ve got to love these North Carolina ghost stories), you will soon make out the shape of the murdered woman’s ghost approaching your car, holding her head in her hands. And your car will not start when you try to restart it. Plus, if you walk up to the back of the house, you can hear the cries of a baby coming from the old well.

The last story involving an old barn where kids used to go to “watch the sailboat races” (I mean this figuratively!! and if you still don’t get it, come back when you’re older, dang it!). One prom night two kids didn’t come home after the party, and friends told their folks that they’d gone out to the old Payne Road barn. The parents drove down and saw the boy’s car parked outside. When they went in, they found the teenagers hanging from the rafters, still in their formal attire.


You’ll need to get to Rural Hall, a small town just north of Winston-Salem. In the middle of Rural Hall, Route 66 intersects with Route 65. From that intersection, begin traveling North on Route 66. You won’t go 2/10ths of a mile before you cross the railroad tracks, and immediately after the tracks you’ll see Edwards Road on the right (a little further up 66 you’ll see the new section of Payne Road on the right as well, but, like I said, don’t bother with it). Once you’re on Edwards Road, just follow along with the story above, but drive carefully! The roads are steep and with plenty of curves.

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