Gray Lady of Glamis

Gorbals Vampire

Glamis Castle

Glasgow

Scotland

Fogbound Folklore: Scotland's Gray Lady and the Gorbals Vampire

Fog keeps old secrets and Scotland listens with wary, curious hearts tonight.

Stories travel faster than trains, filling guidebooks and tours with chill, lingering names.

Cold breath repeats two favorites, the Gray Lady of Glamis and the Gorbals Vampire.

Mist Over Scotland

That cold breath curls along Glamis Castle, where the Gray Lady of Glamis walks after midnight.

She carries a fading candle and does not meet the visitors' eyes.

Stone corridors exhale cold, and a distant siren answers from faraway Glasgow streets.

Gray Lady at Glamis

That siren leads to Glasgow's dark park edges, where children whisper about the Gorbals Vampire.

Crowds gather with makeshift torches, swearing they saw tall teeth and burning red eyes.

Whispers become headlines, and footsteps echo into guidebooks that sell shivers to visitors.

Panic in Glasgow

Those whispers soften with rain, yet the names keep walking across Scotland's nights.

The Gray Lady of Glamis and the Gorbals Vampire share the same cold afterlife.

They move from stone halls to crowded streets, from tours to classrooms, always returning.

Fog closes again, and Scotland listens, certain the next voice will speak soon.

Folklore Keeps Walking

Fogbound Folklore: Scotland's Gray Lady and the Gorbals Vampire
By Pandi
2025
Mist Over Scotland
Fog keeps old secrets and Scotland listens with wary, curious hearts tonight.
Stories travel faster than trains, filling guidebooks and tours with chill, lingering names.
Cold breath repeats two favorites, the Gray Lady of Glamis and the Gorbals Vampire.
Gray Lady at Glamis
That cold breath curls along Glamis Castle, where the Gray Lady of Glamis walks after midnight.
She carries a fading candle and does not meet the visitors' eyes.
Stone corridors exhale cold, and a distant siren answers from faraway Glasgow streets.
Panic in Glasgow
That siren leads to Glasgow's dark park edges, where children whisper about the Gorbals Vampire.
Crowds gather with makeshift torches, swearing they saw tall teeth and burning red eyes.
Whispers become headlines, and footsteps echo into guidebooks that sell shivers to visitors.
Folklore Keeps Walking
Those whispers soften with rain, yet the names keep walking across Scotland's nights.
The Gray Lady of Glamis and the Gorbals Vampire share the same cold afterlife.
They move from stone halls to crowded streets, from tours to classrooms, always returning.
Fog closes again, and Scotland listens, certain the next voice will speak soon.

Gray Lady of Glamis and the Gorbals Vampire - Story Book

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