Iron chest, churchyard

This iron chest is reputed to contain the remains of something – I have never been able to find out exactly what from the old men in the local pub.  On the night of the new moon those who are brave enough to venture into the churchyard report a curious scratching from within the chest together with, if you listen carefully, a sort of whispering.

I was foolish enough, this last new moon, to venture into the churchyard to see if I could hear it for myself.  Putting my ear to the chest, I wish I could say that I had not been able to make out the whispered words from within.  I will not repeat them here although I cannot forget them, and nor will I venture into the churchyard again at night.