It was meant to be empty.

After closing time, with the doors locked and the building cleared, staff began noticing things that didn’t quite fit. A face appearing briefly above the bar, as if someone had lifted themselves just enough to look over before dropping back out of sight. A glass shelf, fixed securely in place, shifting in a way that didn’t make sense.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing that could be easily explained either.

These weren’t stories told years later or passed through word of mouth. They came from people who worked there - people familiar with the space, who knew what was normal and what wasn’t.

In this episode, we’re looking at a nightclub in Glasgow where something continued to be seen, even when it should have been empty.

Scotland is home to more than two thousand recorded castles.

Some are well known. Others are easy to miss - broken walls in the landscape, visited by only a handful of people at a time.

In this episode, we’re focusing on three of those lesser-known sites: Auchindoun, Drumin, and Kildrummy.

All within the same part of the country. All tied to the same stretch of history. And all connected to experiences people have struggled to account for.

From reports of a child crying within the ruins of Auchindoun, to unexplained footsteps on the narrow staircase of Drumin, to sightings of a figure standing briefly in the courtyard at Kildrummy - the accounts are subtle, brief, and often difficult to explain.

These aren’t places normally described as some of Scotland’s most haunted.

And that’s what makes the accounts so interesting.

Taken individually, each one is small. A sound. A movement. A figure glimpsed and then gone.

But taken together, across multiple sites within such a small area, a different picture begins to form.

Not of a single haunting, but of something broader.

Something tied not just to the buildings, but to the ground they stand on.

When people think of Scotland’s major battles, places like Bannockburn or Culloden usually come to mind.

But just outside the town of Crieff, there’s another battlefield that doesn’t get the same attention - Sheriffmuir.

In 1715, two armies met there during the Jacobite rising. By the end of the day, neither side had won. Both claimed victory, but the outcome settled nothing. The campaign stalled, and what followed wasn’t a clean retreat or a clear defeat - it was something far less defined.

And that aftermath didn’t stay on the battlefield.

In this episode, we look at what happened next - not just the history, but the accounts that have been reported in and around Crieff since.

From repeated sightings of a man standing at the roadside along the A85, to a strange figure seen on a path at the edge of town, and the long-standing reports tied to Ferntower House.

These aren’t well-known stories, and some are being shared here for the first time. Most come from people who experienced something, tried to make sense of it, and were left with more questions than answers.

I’d also like to thank Scott for passing on his family’s account, and for taking the time to share the details behind it. Stories like that don’t always make it beyond a small circle, so having it sent through made a real difference when putting this episode together.