The Manor Files | Part One of Three

Greg the Gargoyle: Does Manor Coffee Have a House Spirit?

The Art of the Séance | October 15, 2026 | Manor Coffee, San Diego

One Ouija board. Nine pages of handwritten notes. Three apparent identities. And a snaggletoothed little creature named Greg.

Welcome to The Manor Files: Part One of Three

Well, my fellow weirdos, we did a thing. On October 15th, The Manor Society of the Occult hosted The Art of the Séance at Manor Coffee, and what started as an evening of Victorian spiritualism, history, and a little recreational necromancy turned into something that has me digging through nine pages of handwritten notes like a Victorian detective who hasn't slept in three days.

And since I know some of you are already wondering, no, we didn't summon Satan, nobody levitated across the room, and to my knowledge, nobody went home with an unwanted supernatural roommate.

But we did walk away with some interesting communications. Or at least, what appeared to be communications. There's a difference, and we're going to talk about it.

Because if you've followed the Feral Witch for any length of time, you know I love the paranormal, but I also love calling bullshit when necessary. And when it comes to investigating the unexplained, those two things should absolutely coexist.

So grab your coffee, whiskey, or whatever questionable beverage gets you through the day.

We're opening the Manor Files.

This is Part One of a three-part investigation into the recorded communications from our séance at Manor Coffee. We're starting with a familiar name.

Greg.

Yes, Greg.

And there's a reason that particular name caught my attention.

First, Let's Set the Scene

For one night, Manor Coffee became our very own Victorian séance parlor.

Dim lighting, gothic atmosphere, specialty drinks, and ten curious souls gathering to explore something that has fascinated, frightened, and occasionally financially exploited humanity for centuries. Communicating with the dead.

We began with a presentation about the history of spiritualism and séances, including the rise of talking boards and the Victorian obsession with contacting the dearly departed. And let me tell you, the Victorians were a fascinating bunch.

These people were simultaneously inventing modern technology, photographing dead relatives, and trying to contact Aunt Mildred from beyond the grave. Meanwhile, I'm over here in 2026 trying to get through my emails without threatening to move into the woods permanently.

Oh, wait. Already did that.

After our history lesson, we gathered around the Ouija board.

Two participants joined me at the planchette at a time, while another guest served as our designated recorder. We rotated participants throughout the evening so everyone who wanted to experience the board had an opportunity.

And our recorder had one incredibly important job.

Write down what actually happened. Not what we wished happened.

Every letter. Every answer. Every confusing sequence that looked like somebody's cat walked across a keyboard.

Because I've spent more than 25 years exploring witchcraft and the paranormal, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that human memory is about as reliable as a drunk person explaining how they ended up in Tijuana.

We remember what excites us. We fill in gaps. We connect dots that might not actually be connected.

Which is why I'm so glad we documented everything.

By the end of the evening, we had nine pages of notes and three names that emerged from our questions.

Greg. Justice. Zeke.

And a fourth exchange involving Kurdish food that left us with more questions than answers.

Let's get into the weird shit.

Session One: Greg

Recorded approximately 6:32 PM – 6:46 PM

The following questions and answers are transcribed from the handwritten session notes. Letter sequences are preserved as recorded. Interpretations appear in parentheses.

Q: Is anyone here?A: F-R-A-M-T, followed by YES.

Q: Do you live here?A: No clear response.

Q: Can you spell your name?A: G-R-E-G.

Q: Tell me your favorite thing about Manor Coffee.A: C-O-F (interpreted as COFFEE).

Q: Do you like the smell or taste?A: S-M-E-L (interpreted as SMELL).

Q: Is there something here you want to tell Kait and Aric?A: T-R-O-C-E-C-T (interpreted as PROTECT).

Q: Besides coffee, what else do you like here?A: D-E-C-R (interpreted as DECOR).

Q: Is there anyone else here tonight?A: YES.

Q: Do you like them? How do you feel about them?A: R-Z-A-Q-N.

Q: Does Greg get along with the other spirits?A: YES.

Q: Greg, have you been here before Kait and Aric got here?A: YES.

Continued Communication: 6:46 PM

Q: Where are you, Greg?A: H-E-T-S-M, followed by a reset.

Q: Greg, how did you get here?A: U-N-T-Q-R-S-G.

Q: Greg, what you just said to us, is that in another language?A: NO.

Q: Greg, are you fucking with us?Observation: Participants recorded that Greg did not appear to like Nicole cursing.

Q: Greg, are you messing with us?A: G, followed by a reset.

Recorder's note: One question was missed.

A: W-J-U-S-T-I-S.

Q: Who is talking to us right now?A: F-V-T-U-G.

Feral Witch's Commentary: Greg the Gargoyle

Now, there's a little backstory I need to share because this wasn't actually the first time Greg had made an appearance at Manor Coffee. Well, sort of.

A few weeks before our séance, Aric, Kait, and I were hanging out at Manor Coffee as they were closing up shop. At one point, I happened to glance toward the back storage area and saw something that made me do a double take.

At first, I thought it was a grey cat. But the longer I looked, the more I realized that whatever I was seeing wasn't quite a cat. The best way I can describe it is a cross between a gargoyle and a cat. A little grey creature with an almost mischievous expression and a single snaggletooth hanging out of one side of its mouth. A little toofus, if you will. And before anyone starts imagining some demonic hellspawn crouching in the shadows, let me stop you right there.

This thing was fucking adorable.

It wasn't frightening, threatening, or particularly sinister. It reminded me more of the affection you feel when you see Jimothy the raccoon. You know, one of those strange little creatures that looks like it probably steals snacks and makes questionable life choices, but you would absolutely defend it with your life.

Naturally, I told Aric and Kait what I had just seen.

And because apparently I can't encounter something potentially supernatural without giving it a ridiculous name, I jokingly announced that we had ourselves a resident gargoyle.

Greg the Gargoyle.

It just fit. I also had the distinct impression that this little creature wasn't simply passing through. Whatever I had experienced felt connected to the building itself.

In folk magic and various spiritual traditions, there are stories of house spirits, beings believed to inhabit or watch over particular homes, buildings, and properties. Some are described as guardians, others as tricksters, and some are simply considered part of the household.

And that was the feeling I got from Greg. Not something dangerous or unwelcome.

More like a peculiar little resident who had decided Manor Coffee was his home.

Now, fast-forward a few weeks to our séance.

When we asked the board to spell out a name, the letters recorded were:

G-R-E-G.

Of all the names.

Fucking Greg.

Now, before anyone starts screaming that we've definitively contacted the Manor's resident gargoyle, there's something important to acknowledge.

We had already named this creature Greg before the séance.

That means the name wasn't entirely unknown to those of us sitting at the table, and our prior knowledge could absolutely have influenced the board's movements.

That's an important consideration, and I'm not going to conveniently leave it out just because it makes for a better ghost story.

But I will tell you that hearing Greg's name come up during the session was an interesting moment for me, especially given what I'd experienced a few weeks earlier. And then the responses started getting even more amusing.

According to our notes, Greg appeared to appreciate the smell of coffee and the decor at Manor Coffee. Which, quite frankly, tracks with the personality I had already assigned to this strange little creature.

A tiny gargoyle-cat with a snaggletooth, excellent taste in gothic interiors, and an appreciation for freshly brewed coffee?

Honestly, he's practically the Manor's unofficial mascot at this point.

But two other things stood out to me.

The first was the sequence:

T-R-O-C-E-C-T

Which we interpreted as "PROTECT."

I'm not going to pretend that's how you spell protect, because it isn't. However, given my earlier impression that Greg might be some kind of house spirit, that particular response caught my attention.

Was it an attempt to communicate something about protecting the Manor? Or were we interpreting the letters through the lens of a story we had already created? Both are possibilities worth considering.

The second was:

W-J-U-S-T-I-S

That sequence appeared toward the end of Greg's session, and it becomes particularly interesting when you examine what happened next. Because the next apparent communication involved the name Justice. Was this the beginning of another communication? Were we unknowingly connecting random letters into something meaningful?

I don't have an answer.

And then, of course, there was the apparent issue with my vocabulary. According to our notes, Greg didn't seem particularly pleased when I asked whether he was fucking with us.

Which is hilarious considering that, in my original impression, he looked like a gargoyle and a feral cat had produced an adorable little dumpster goblin.

Apparently, he has standards.

So, do I believe Greg the Gargoyle is a house spirit residing at Manor Coffee?

I think it's a possibility worth exploring, but I'm not calling it a confirmed haunting.

What I can tell you is that I had an unusual visual experience weeks before the séance, jokingly named the creature Greg, and later watched that same name emerge during our session.

What I can tell you is that I had an unusual visual experience weeks before the séance, jokingly named the creature Greg, and later watched that same name emerge during our session.

Make of that what you will. Personally, I'm rather fond of the idea that Manor Coffee has its own little snaggletoothed guardian keeping an eye on the place. And Greg, if you are hanging around the Manor, you're welcome to stay. Just don't expect me to stop swearing.

You're hanging out with the Feral Witch, buddy. You knew what you were getting into.

Coming Next: Justice

As much as I enjoyed the possibility of Manor Coffee having its own adorable little gargoyle-cat, the next portion of our séance took a decidedly darker turn. Remember those letters?

W-J-U-S-T-I-S.

The following session began with another sequence that participants interpreted as the name Justice.

Then came the numbers 7-8.And one very specific word.

F-I-R-E.

Suddenly, we weren't talking about coffee and gothic decor anymore. We were asking questions about a fire, death, and a year that might or might not connect to San Diego history. And one of our participants reported becoming physically ill during the exchange.

That's where Part Two begins.

Continue Reading The Manor Files

Want to examine the original notes yourself?

[INSERT LINK TO THE COMPLETE NINE-PAGE SÉANCE ARCHIVE]

Until next time, witches.

Stay curious. Stay feral. 🖤

The Feral Witch

Investigation note: This article documents participant observations from The Art of the Séance. The recorded responses have not been independently verified as paranormal communications. Interpretations are presented separately from the original letter sequences.