On a calm, fine night several years ago, two sisters were making their way home from the theatre. Their route took them along a particularly lonely stretch of the Kimmage Road, around two miles beyond the old tram terminus. They were chatting happily as they walked, when they suddenly became aware of a strange sound approaching them – the unmistakable “clink, clink” of a chain being dragged along the ground.

At first they assumed it must be a stray goat or donkey that had slipped its tether. But the road ahead was straight and empty, and although they could hear the sound clearly, they could see nothing at all.

The noise grew steadily louder as it drew nearer, yet there was still no sign of any creature or person. Then, as it reached them, both women felt a sudden blast of cold air rush past – as though something invisible had swept between them. A wave of terror gripped them instantly, an overwhelming and indescribable fear that left them almost unable to walk.

The elder sister, already in fragile health, nearly collapsed on the spot, and the younger had to half-carry her the remaining quarter-mile home. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the older woman collapsed completely and had to be revived with brandy.

Local lore offers a grim explanation. Many years earlier, an elderly woman had been murdered near that same stretch of road – attacked by a tramp who stole her savings. It is widely believed that the haunting is connected to that tragedy, the restless spirit still roaming the place where her life was violently taken.