High Fliers
Hauts volereurs
Part 1
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Volereur Metro Station
Rue du Volereur
Saint-Casimir, 17th arrondissement, Saintes
12 November 2019, 0147h
The name and location of
Volereur (“Flier”) station is interesting. Located on top of a hill, one can see the nearby slopes and plains down to the Saine river to the south. Now the hill is occupied by low-rise private residential developments inhabited mostly by middle-class families.
The
Volereur hill was also once the boundary of the communes of Saint-Casimir and Sainte-Véronique-devant-Saintes. Both communes had since been amalgamated into the city of Saintes within the same 17
th arrondissement. But the boundary line can still be traced via the
Rue du Volereur, a northwest-southeast trending road, which now serves as the boundary between the boroughs named after the former communes.
The entirety of the metro station and the main entrance is on the Saint-Casimir side of the
Rue du Volereur. There is a back entrance, facing the
Rue de Dombasle, a two-lane street parallel to the
Rue du Volereur. At the northwestern end of
Rue du Volereur, two kilometres downhill, is
Jeunesses (“Youths”) station on Line K of the Saintes Metro. The neighbourhood atop the hill is served by the
Volereur station, on Line D of the Saintes Metro.
People say that
Volereur was named because children used to fly kites from that low grassy hill, before it was turned over for development. The story might even be more macabre than the place being used for kite-flying.
During the Santonian Revolution, the noble army was defeated in the Battle of Sainte-Véronique-devant-Saintes on 21 July 1789. However, the outnumbered revolutionaries were unable to press their gains against the nobles and so had to retreat to Saintes’ first line of defences to the northwest, near present-day Villechien and Saint-Archambault. This allowed the noble army to reoccupy Sainte-Véronique-devant-Saintes and the
Volereur hill.
It was said that the bloodthirsty nobles used to bring captured revolutionaries at the hill and execute them there. For the sadistic Duke of the Sologne, it was a blood sport: line up prisoners atop the hill, swing his sharp sword towards the prisoners’ necks, and see how many heads he can send flying downhill. The more heads severed in one swing, the better; the farther the heads fly, the better. The people practicing the sport were called
volereurs des têtes… “head-fliers”. The Duke of the Sologne purportedly did it to scare into submission the defenders of Saintes and the inhabitants of nearby villages. News of his atrocities reached as far as the Pouilles and Bavière.
Nearby villages suffered the most. One day in autumn (some say it was spring), the Duke of the Sologne raided the town of Longjumeau, but the town had already been requisitioned by the Duke of Champagne two days before and so had been exhausted. Irritated, the Duke of the Sologne instead seized young men and teenagers from Longjumeau as conscripts for his army, but the youths refused to abjure their faith and fight for the nobles. The angry Duke of the Sologne tortured the youths of Longjumeau and executed them atop the
Volereur hill. It was said that their heads flew downhill to what is now the location of
Jeunesses station.
The beheadings at
Volereur hill may partly explain why people who believe in the paranormal report seeing spectres of flying heads and walking headless people around the station. Others, including some historians, refuse to believe the story, saying that the atrocities committed by the Duke of the Sologne had been grossly exaggerated as propaganda, and that there is no evidence that such blood sport was practiced on the
Volereur hill.
Even the neighbourhood’s inhabitants are split as to the veracity of the story. Many people from the neighbourhood believed the rumours about headless skeletons excavated during the building of the metro station, but none of them were reported in the newspapers; some thought they were merely urban legends of this area.
Thierry Beaudry was in the former camp. As a station security guard at Volereur station, he had heard of the many stories told about the station. He had also personally addressed some complaints by people who claimed they saw spectres of the dead in the station. Even though he hadn’t experienced any haunting – yet – Thierry believed in the stories: the Duke of the Sologne’s blood sport, the flying of the heads that led to the hill being named as such, the excavated headless skeletons.
Which was why Thierry hated the graveyard shift. Why does Volereur station need a night-shift guard? The station did not have one until recently. Previously, they just closed down the station. That was what Saint-Casimir and Jeunesses stations were still doing. But the stationmaster at Volereur started assigning graveyard-shift duties after learning that the nearby Sainte-Véronique station started doing so. However, the number of station guards were not expanded, and so one was taken out from the morning shift and then transferred to the graveyard shift. One. A lone guard at the station. Not even enough to cover both entrances.
This week, it was Thierry who was assigned on the graveyard shift. Four more days of graveyard shift guarding the dead-silent spooky station, staring at the dead-silent streets of Volereur hill. Thierry looked at his watch. 1:47 AM.
He sat down on a chair at the station’s entrance at Rue du Volereur. No way he’s going to sit in the middle of the dark station to monitor both entrances. The stationmaster ordered them to do that; but nobody, except for Lallande the brave guy, does that. All of them keep to the entrance at Rue du Volereur, where the street lights are on throughout the night. The street lights at Rue de Dombasle are turned off at midnight.
Thierry yawned. He was already thinking of asking for a transfer to Jeunesses station, which was nearer to his home, and where there was no night shift. But Jeunesses had no vacancy. Maybe Saint-Casimir? Does Sainte-Jeanne station have night shift guards as well?
Thierry’s train of thought was interrupted when he heard… something from inside the station. He straightened back up in his seat. Thierry hoped those were just mere trespassers or lost people who found their way into the station. He was reluctant to investigate. He did not want to see a flying head or a headless ghost.
After a few minutes, he heard soft footsteps. Going back and forth. “
Merde.”
Mustering all the courage to look back into the dark station, Thierry opened his flashlight. He stood up and turned towards the station. He illuminated the area of the station immediately behind him. “Who’s there?”
The footsteps stopped.
The thing with Volereur station is that is wasn’t built in a straight line. From the entrance he was standing in, he couldn’t even see the station’s central concourse. To investigate further, Thierry had to go in from the Rue du Volereur entrance, walk through a short corridor, and then turn right to the station’s main concourse. In the middle of the concourse are the two sets of stairs and escalators leading to the station platform below, along with their associated turnstiles serving the Rue du Volereur and Rue de Dombasle sides.
Nearer to the Rue de Dombasle entrance, a short hallway at the far end of the concourse housed the station’s lavatories and control room, where the main light switches were. Thierry resolved to open the lights at the station. If these were trespassers, they’d be discouraged by the light; if these were ghosts, they’d then see the light and go away.
Before Thierry could take the next step, he heard the footsteps again. Scuffling footsteps. Faster this time. “They’re just trespassers,” Thierry muttered to calm himself down. His heart was pounding. What will he do if he saw the headless ghosts? He can deal with the living, but with the dead?
Picking up his flashlight and radio, he made the sign of the cross and plodded ahead.
“
Je vous salue Marie…”
Thierry had reached the end of the short corridor from the Rue du Volereur entrance.
“…
pleine de grâce…”
Thierry took a cautious look to his right. Nothing but darkness.
“
Le Seigneur est avec tous…”
But the footsteps became faster.
“
Vous êtes bénie…”
Thierry shined his flashlight into the concourse. Nothing was there. Nobody was there.
“…
entre toutes les femmes…”
Thierry fixed his light on the hallway he was aiming at. In front of the station’s bulletin board, beside the control room, was a dark figure.
“
Et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles…”
He took a tentative step backwards. His flashlight could not clearly illuminate what it was.
“…est béni.”
Thierry’s flashlight flickered. “
Merde.” What a bad time to run out of batteries. As he turned off the flashlight, he heard a thump from the concourse. He hurriedly turned on his flashlight again, which thankfully still had some dim light.
“
Sainte Marie…”
Thierry focused his flashlight again on the hallway. The dark figure was gone. He needed to illuminate the station to end this all. Hopefully whatever force of darkness that was, is gone. He started taking steps forward, illuminating his path before him.
“…
Mère de Dieu…”
He entered the middle of the station and started his brisk walk around the periphery of the concourse.
“…
priez pour nous…”
Thierry had reached the area of the turnstiles serving the Rue du Volereur entrance. He consciously avoided peering what might be hiding down the escalators and the station platform below.
“…
pauvres pécheurs…”
A breeze blew in from the Rue de Dombasle entrance, bringing in the smell of… death? Thierry’s heart raced faster. All he wanted to do now is to open the station’s lights.
“…
maintenant, et à l'heure…”
He had reached the far end of the concourse. He quickly turned towards the hallway. As he took the first step into the hallway, he felt something cold at his feet.
“…
de notre MORT!”
Thierry shouted the last word in profound shock as his flashlight illuminated what was beneath his feet. A headless body.
Thierry shrieked as he jumped away from the headless thing and fell on his butt. Leaving everything he was carrying, he scampered away from whatever that was, dashing towards the faint moonlight shining through the Rue de Dombasle entrance. As he reached the foot of the short flight of stairs leading out to Rue de Dombasle, he tripped over another… thing. Instinctively looking at the thing that tripped him, Thierry saw a headless body at his feet. The headless ghosts are trying to get him! “
Mon Dieu, aidez-moi!” He shouted as he kicked that thing away from him and crawled his way up the stairs. As soon as he reached the darkened Rue de Dombasle, Thierry ran down the street, screaming all the way, waking the neighbourhood up.
