The ChillX Zone

A Royal Murder That Echoes Through Centuries

August 2, 2025

On this date—August 2, 2025—we mark the grim anniversary of the death of King William II, known to posterity as William Rufus. He was shot by an arrow while hunting in the New Forest on August 2, 1100. Nearly 925 years later, local folklore persists that his restless spirit still wanders the place where he fell, the famed Rufus Stone marking the spot to this day.

Witnesses over the centuries have reported strange voices carried on forest breezes, sudden chills where no crossbow could strike, and the vague outline of a monarchical figure standing beside the stone—only to vanish when approached.

Modern Reports from the New Forest

Walking the trails today, hikers speak of unexpected unease near the memorial. One visitor in their twenties described pressing through dense fog and “hearing a whisper behind me—like someone calling ‘My lord, my lord’—but no one was there.” Another recounted finding a photo on their phone taken at the stone with an unearthly glow around the head of no one in the shot.

These accounts, while fleeting, are enough to sustain local belief in the Rufus legend.

A Reporter’s 1990s‑Era Inquiry

Channeling a 1990s investigative tone, a reporter might have knocked on doors in nearby villages, asking residents if they’d seen lights flicker or cameras malfunction near the stone. “Did you feel a presence, or hear a guttural voice in the hush of the woods?” would be typical. In pub corners, tales still circulate—some claiming to sense a monarch’s agony in the rustling leaves.

Anniversary Mystique

August 2 seems to carry its own weight here. On each anniversary of William’s death, paranormal tour guides have gathered near dusk, cameras and EMF meters in hand, hoping to capture something—anything—to prove the old story lives on. The consensus: when the forest is quiet and the wind dies, the forest speaks of that long-ago royal betrayal.

Closing Reflection

As darkness falls on August 2, 2025, the New Forest stands unchanged—and yet timelessly charged. Whether you chalk it up to imagination under moonlight or believe in the residue of a king’s spirit, the legacy of August 2, 1100, remains. A man died that day—and centuries later, the woods still remember.