The Vision

I had reason, as I was working in a run down dis-used monastery in the South of France, to feel extremely uncomfortable.
The day had been cold with a biting North-Easterly wind blowing in from Siberia. I was there as a part of a group of contractors, who were required to pull the building down to make way for an office complex.
My face was cold and wet with a mixture of sweat and trepidation, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, this I took to bring to my attention a small boy around two and a half or three years old, standing holding a piece of paper and a cuddly toy.
The boy was staring blankly at me or at least in my direction, there was no-one with me so I couldn't reveal what I was seeing, I wiped my eyes, perhaps hoping to pass this off as a figment of my imagination.
I was trying to speak but couldn't form the words, I made a few gestures to the child, but to no avail, he just stared blankly. I looked down momentarily to take note of the time, it was four-twenty-five in the afternoon, then returned my attention to the child, but he had vanished, noise had started to filter through from my co-workers as they all decided to talk about the excesses of the weekend that had just passed.

I decided that after work that day I would do some research on the building and the surrounding area.
The day went quickly enough, people were chatting while working, I kept looking over at the place where the child stood, maybe hoping that he would reappear, but he didn't, at least not while I was there.
George Allison, our foreman had asked that we get as much done this morning, as time was money, and he knew that speed was the best policy, we were there to demolish the building and then lay the groundwork for the builders, the contract was said to be worth half a million pounds, we were given three days to complete the demolition.

The days work had finished, and we all made our way back to our pick up points, failure to do this meant we would have to walk back to our digs.
I told my roommate, Steve Corrigan to keep the truck waiting as I had forgotten my toolbox. I retrieved my toolbox but something urged me to look over again, at where the child had been earlier in the day, on the wall that was behind the boy was the word, Graeme, just barely visible, but, visible nonetheless.
I hadn't noticed it before, but I had been quite taken by the vision. I heard a voice calling for me it was Steve, telling me to get over to the truck quickly as they were about to depart, so I grabbed my toolbox and headed back to the truck.

It took us about thirty five minutes to arrive at our digs, we said our goodbye's and then made our way upstairs. I decided to enlist my roomates help in researching the monastery's background, I had already assumed that the vision was something to do with the building, Steve immediately logged onto the internet, he put into the browser bar, the name of the monastery, St Augustine's, Knights monastery, the various links that came up were of little help to us.
I noticed one that said about the history of the building, so I clicked on the link and found a section claiming to reveal the grisly past of this historic building.
On the opening page it had various advertisements and endorsements, but on the left was a highlighted word, the word was Supernatural, I immediately clicked on the link and was amazed to see a list of dates and times, mostly in the eighteenth and nineteenth century. Judging by how the boy was dressed, I was more and more intrigued.
The Monastery was used as a prison back in the sixteenth century, there were several attempts to break prisoners free from the dungeons within, only one person was lucky enough to escape, he escaped the confines of the prison, but was killed while trying to make it through the dense forest which surrounded the building.
The French Government deemed it necessary to list the building a national treasure, but there are many details about it's history still missing, unknown or hidden.