The Legendless Ghost Of Barron-on-Fens

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Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

Barron-on-Fens never got visitors before those ghost hunters showed up dead. Now it was overflowing with hunters and researchers and festering content creators, all clamouring to hear “the legend”.
They were all loudly disappointed by how little legend there was. As if that was the locals’ fault!
“Yes, that’s it.” Constance swallowed a sigh. “Don’t go on the water after dark. ‘Specially down by that islet. There’s freaky noises at night and people who investigated showed up savaged ’n’ dead.”
“What does the ghost look like?” The reporter was frowning. Annoyed or unimpressed?
Constance didn’t care either way. She had tables to wipe and dishes to wash. Running the pub this past week had been more work than the previous four decades put together. “Dunno. Nobody ever got a look. Well, got a look and came back.”
“And… it doesn’t have a name?”
“How should I know?” Constance squinted incredulously. “You think it came round to introduce itself?”
The reporter huffed. “I meant, isn’t there something you people call it?”
“No?”
“What, you just call it ‘the ghost’?”
Constance shrugged. “We don’t call it anything. Just tell kids not to go out on the water after dark and stay away from freaky noises. Plenty of other reasons not to be wandering around fens in the dark anyways.”
“What about the island?”
“What about it?”
“What’s its name?”
“Er… dunno? Probably has one written down somewhere, but I’m no historian.”
“What, you don’t bother talking about the island either?”
“No? There’s nothing there.”
“You just said there’s a ghost!”
“I mean, yeah, there’s something nasty ‘round there after dark. But there’s nothing on the islet. ’S just a buncha muddy gravel.”
The reporter leant forward. “Could something be buried there?”
“Who the fuck knows? Feel free to go check. Now, are you quite done? I haven’t had a sit down since half six and I’m flipping parched.”
“How can you be so casual about this?” The reporter had the nerve to look suspicious, as if there might be some… ghost conspiracy? Who knew how their minds worked. “This thing is dangerous and it’s right outside your town!”
Constance had given up on explaining they were a village. She was close to giving up in general. “Well, it doesn’t affect us, does it? Nobody wants to be out on the fens in the dark anyways. So it’s easy to avoid. Nobody’s been- well. Nobody from here has been got in… thirty years? And he was dead drunk and tried to go frog hunting on his own, so, chances are he woulda drowned or summut even without being et.”
“And nobody ever reported it?”
“Maybe? I don’t know! Wouldn’t be my job, would it? Go ask… I dunno. The pastor?”
Frankly she didn’t blame anyone if they hadn’t reported it - this nonsense was not worth the extra “tourist” money!

Prompt was “Just as some humans are ghost-hunters, some ghosts are human-hunters.”
[I didn’t find this prompt particularly inspiring. Surely any killer ghost could be considered a ‘human hunter’? Maybe I’m missing something. So rather than write from the ghost’s perspective I went with this. The concept amused me.]