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A Question Most Do Not Want To Answer.

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Unread post Fri Jul 28, 2017 8:18 am

Years back, when I first arrived here, I was asked two things: 1) can ghosts hurt? 2) What is the worst experience I’ve had in the paranormal? For this post, I’ll cover the first. The first succeeded far beyond than this account will, but, for decency’s sake:


Think that aught to cover it, hahaha.

Let’s begin.

In 2000, I was living back at home (that wonderful house my dad and brother built on tainted ground), after a stint in college. Left for family reasons. Anyway, in this house, the one of oh so many experiences, there was a family of five, whom I’ve met in an account I posted about shadow people. The young girl’s name: Ashley. Her eldest brother: Johnathan. The basement was home to things best not toiled with. Have had a few paranormal colleagues into the house (parents none the wiser, as they ignored their own experiences), one of which worked with a voodoo priestess down in New Orleans for more than a decade. He joked he would not go down there again, even with her at his side—nor would he call her just to walk into "that."

The entity in question was a shaman, twisted by a bloodthirst. He murdered the family, giving them their shadow forms. They were forbidden to leave the grounds, as long as his essence remained. At some point in time, a grove had sealed the land and him inside. While I lived there, the seal weakened to the verge of breaking. I got on the horn and called in a grove to reseal it. I was removed from the house—for safety purposes. Lol, meaning, I was not allowed to help. I was actually driven 25 miles away. Should give a scope to the energy being dealt with and harvested by the twisted shaman.

But, he was not left to stay long. Two days before the binding, I had laundry to do. The washer and drier were housed in the basement—a place I had not set foot in at night in nearly a year. I ventured in only between 1 and 2 p.m. when the sun was strongest and could give me a fighting chance. The last, I dearly needed.

Down the steps and off the right side of the landing, was the washer. I flung it open, feeling watched by two of the shaman’s three ‘goons.’ I care nothing of their titles. One near the outside door, one under the stairs, the other, not committed to a form yet, hovered in the deeper space between them. I threw the wash into the drier then ran for the stairs. They were already in motion!

That sensation of being run up on in a horror flick, yeah, way understated by film. I did not let my feet hit the risers. Gods, can still feel that surge now. Halfway up the steps, I ran short on luck. My arms, belt, and shirt were grabbed. My right shoulders, the back of my head. I was thrown into the steps, stomach and face first. They were tugging at me and my clothing. My shirt was untucked. My arms, I fought to keep free as a knee went between mine. I screamed. I fought. I clawed. I scratched at the door. Though, I had to get there first. They grabbed. They pushed me down. I felt my belt tugged, as if halfway around the loops.

I was not the only one home. I screamed for my brother. In his senior year of HS and a delinquent, he could always be counted on in a fight. He did not come. Things got worse. I fought harder. Scratched my finger pads trying to get grip on the basement door. Felt my nails nearly bent and torn, trying. I refused to be subject to these...things. I used every bit of strength I had left to raise to my knees and grab the knob. I had to grab it twice. Think my head was slammed into the door or the wall. Grip appeared around a hip.

I got the door open.

As soon as it opened free of the latch, the assault stopped. I fell onto the carpeted step that was the hall floor. I realized then I was covered in sweat. I was panting. I think my eyes watered from the exertion. I pushed the door wide and crawled out of the steps to sit with my back against the wall between the basement door and the kitchen.

It was then my brother steps out of his room, hos door always closed, and asked, “what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Shut up,” is all I say over my held knees. My belt had been half opened. I did not want that to be seen. I let him shut the basement door with and step into the hall bathroom (door closed after him) before I got up. My shirt had been stretched, nearly torn, nearly raised off one side. I was TICKED.

I went back to my room to compose myself before confronting him on why he did come when I called for him. Brother stated he did not hear me. We were home alone and it was one of the few days a year his radio was NOT on. He never heard a word…

Next day, I still had to finish my laundry. Mom was complaining she could not wash hers with mine in the machine. So, I had to go back down there. By this point, I would think it obvious, the rest of the house ignores the happenings that go on. By this time, brother had seen a bodiless leg walk into mom and dad’s room. He grabbed the shotgun to search the room. Told me to look under the bed. I laughed, leaning against the doorframe saying, “you saw it, you look.”

I’m happy to say he did not shoot the floor, bed, or my cat.

Dad had an experience, coinciding with a visit from a friend of mine. They two nearly got into a fist fight on there NOT being someone sitting in their car parked at the end of our street. Dad swore there was. Getting my friend out of the house before things got brutal (dad hits to end the fight), we get to my friend’s car. The safety belt is fastened and her pink princess steering wheel cover was stained brown. She washed it three times, it never even lightened.

Mom, she says it’s the wind—even in the house with no open windows. Hell, even my cat played with spirits in the hall. But, nope, mom ignored it, too. One night, she was sleeping, woke up to screaming and things breaking. She figured brother and I were at it again. Two Aries teens under one roof, what else can you truly expect??? Btw, I’m the double Aries. Bro has that Pisces cusp. Lightweight….

When she got up to yell at us, she opened her door to tomb level silence. Not even the summer crickets. Just dark walls and a blue hue which covered everything. She looked around, closed her door and went back to bed. Said in the morning, she had the weirdest dream and asked what we did to the walls to make it do that. (Really???)

That second morning of laundry, I waited until the sun’s highest point again. This time, I was alone. They had been pacing down there all morning. I could feel them as they walked, as if their energy raised the floor above them. I’ve also slept on a bed that seemed to ‘breathe’ while in this house and the floor was very similar to that. That bed thing lasted about a week. They stopped when I would not raise my level of fear and, instead, communed with my guides in meditation. I was also casting blessings from my Celtic and Native American roots. Calling the Ancestors worked the best.

I wring my hands before finally grabbing the doorknob. When I opened the door, one was standing at the mouth, masking himself so that I could not ‘see.’ But I felt. I went to my room for a while. I gathered my focus and had a smoke (cigs). Feeling ready, hyped for a fight, I bounded to the basement stairs and I RAN down. The things had moved, drawn by my being in my room.

Halfway down, my feet ran OUT, into the open air. My cat ran down the stairs as if nothing was different for her than what should have been right for me. She disappeared in a blur of fur. My shoulders were grabbed; held. I grabbed the railing, against falling. I was thrown into the stairs with a force I cannot explain. First to hit was my low back, against the leading edge of a bare wood step. My ribs followed, taking all air and fight from me. I lay, arms lax and unable to move. But, it was over. As the impact took my fight, I felt movement up top the stairs. Ashley was running toward my room, her dress flying in the windless hall. As something moved in on me, a hand for my neck, I think—dare not think they would have grabbed lower. But one was almost diving up, along me. That, I knew. It had that intent.

As it began its advance to do so, a flood of peace came down the stairs. It was cool and it was beautiful. As the calm cascaded, they retreated, faster than they had ever been known to advance (and that was FAST). Bending my neck to see the hall, I see the door is open. In the doorway is a star field, in front, the Moon Goddess in he purple and blue star dusted dress. Her blonde hair kept by a silver band with a crescent design and a moonstone inset. She bade no harm come to me. To the hinge side of the door, I see Ashley peek around, to make sure I was okay.

That girl, she risked everything to get help. <3

I looked down my legs; tried to move my feet. I could not even feel them. I could not feel any existence beyond my lower back. I could see my legs, but my brain could not find them. Don’t say ‘void,’ btw, a void would have been something to feel. I could not even roll without the use of my legs and hips. Every inch of movement ignited a searing pain across the contact point that had met the step. Still no feeling below that. I was paralyzed! And ship off to the Coast Guard the next week…

I grit my teeth and crying the hot tears of frustration and ire. Each wail, I pressed my weight up to stab a palm onto the next riser toward the top. The Goddess hovered, waiting without prompt or request. I got my shoulders out of the stairwell and threw one hand to grip the opposite door frame. My fingers failed to grip it. I slipped down a step. Pain seared hotter, sharper; I screamed. I fought again. I backed myself up and out of the stairs, onto the carpeted stairs. I then dragged myself toward the kitchen door, looking back, the basement door was closed. Not by me. I tried to climb the door frame to swat the cordless phone down. Halfway up, I see the phone is not there. It is on the arm of the couch in the living room. I drag myself to the end of the 20 year old couch and reach up to get the phone, it slips onto the cushion. I have to go over the arm or around the recliner. I still cannot feel anything below the waist.

I try going around, maybe flat with will be easier. Not true, when turns are a constant. So, I wiggle and plop myself back to the arm of the couch. By this time, it’s been 40 minutes since I took the hit. I cannot move or use my legs, but I can feel an almost tangible phantom tingle. I growl and (battle) cry my way over the arm to grab the phone. Success!!! I collapse and fall back onto the floor. More pain. More non feeling, but my back twists. That tingle is real. I begin to feel numb!!! I can feel…

I call my mom at work, an hour away (nearest neighbor is half a mile away). She refused to come home for just a bump. I told her I fell down the stairs and that I could not walk. I had to climb out of the stairs. Nope, nadda. I hang up the phone. 9-1-1 has no map for us out where we live (found out the hard way) and directions were, unreliable when they were not sure from where the police were coming from. The cars got that far out, dispatch could not track them anymore.

This is where, unlike the day before, I cried. Upset, sure. Mad, oh, yeah. But I was broken now. My legs had always been the strongest and now they were gone. My future was over. My dreams, yeah, so not going to happen. And I KNEW not to go down there. I KNEW they had retaliation in mind and planned. But, I was arrogant. And now, I was not going to get up and walk away from this.

It was three days before I got tot the hospital. The Dr. took one look at my age and told me I could not be hurt. He sent me home.

But, before I got to that worthless use of Tri-Care, I had an event to finish. While waiting for anyone in the family to get home (I even tried calling friends, no one home), I began to work that numbness into a bent knee. Eventually, it STAYED bent, without tipping me over. Cannot NOT feel embarrassed with your face pressed into the fabric side of a couch, especially if held there by your own bodyweight. Yup, been there…

About an hour later, I could force my legs to work, thought I did not trust them beyond the strength of my knees. Worst part, I had no cigarettes I could reach. I worked myself vertical and wobbled into the kitchen, where the computer was kept then. I got myself over to the chair . . . . and learned the joy of castors on tile linoleum flooring. Still cussing on this one.

Finally seated, I heard steps at the kitchen threshold. Johnathan. I asked about Ashley. She just shook his head. With the Goddess gone, all bets were off for the young girl. I set my jaw and logged on to get some help. I had not done a binding of my own before and, with something as strong as the shaman, I knew I could not succeed solo. Soaring Eagle, luckily, was on (and, no, is real name). She asked, before I could say, what happened. Said she heard the animals talking. I told her. And not the lies I’ve told every day since then so that people did not lock me up for being crazy (again).

This was the only time I had felt the woman irate. Not a warm fuzzy, she’s going to help me feeling, but an oh @#$, she’s coming for ya (to the shaman) feel. And she did. She got the details form me she needed, I set up what candles I could from the unsteady chair I could not yet control. Each movement still enraged a pain I cannot describe. But, I was not about to let Ashley pay for what she did for me.

I opened the communication Soaring Eagle needed and supported whatever she needed. A lot of this went blurry. I was weak and tired almost immediately and leaning hard, almost falling out of the chair. The sucker fought hard. But, you do not mess with Soaring Eagle. Nearly two hours later, she had him bound and removed from the grounds. I am not 100% on the time. Is the best I can gauge off then next time I actually saw a clock and tried to do math. Felt longer than it was when I saw the time.

After the shaman was no longer a threat, or the three ‘goons,’ Ashley and Johnathan appeared slowly from the hall. Their shadow was fading to brown. Soon, I saw them through by senses. Was too tired for clear sight by this point. I barely saw the candle light marking the doorway. At Soaring Eagle’s urging, we said our goodbyes and made a swift crossing for them. This, was the most beautiful thing in paranormal I have ever experienced outside the Goddess’ grace. Ashley, scared from where she had been prior to my calling on Soaring Eagle, was the last to cross. She did not want to go and leave me. I hugged her tight. We cried. Never have I done so to that extent, on that level of separational agony. But, she needed to go and would be happy in her next life. I have looked through that door on her as I promised. The second time, Johnathan met me to say she had moved on to her next incarnation. I shut the door and sat back to silent, appreciative tears.

Today, the day she crossed, she asked me something. A favor. I swore to anything she wanted. Did not even have to think about it! She asked me to light a candle for her, until…(do not know until what, could not hear that clearly). But every year, she asked I mark the day, her birthday I think, with a single candle.

Jan. 15th or 25th. Never heard it clearly. So, I lit candle for her on both days. Eventually, I settled on the 15th. Since Johnathan told me the news, I’ve not lit that candle. I think it was her until. But, rarely is she ever not in mind. That girl showed me the single most selfless act of bravery I’ve witnessed in spirit and in life. What I felt on her, before she crossed, gods, I owe so much thanks to Soaring Eagle, too.

But, the house was cleared of the entities that day. Not enough left in us to clear the land, but that house, I never felt it so calm and inviting in 5 years of living there.

Was a month before I saw Soaring Eagle again. Said she was recouping every day of it. A move came down the pike the next year. Not seen her since.

So, that is the first of the two. Not the worst I’ve dealt with, but certainly the most beautiful. And every second of that hell, I will vouch every day I have left, was worth it to finally see an end to the family’s prison.

Soaring Eagle said she was trying not to get involved with the entities on the property, but, with them having done what they did, she could no longer sit by and let it be. For that, I am grateful and would do it all again—to help Ashley, Johnathan, and their family.

May their next lives be far nicer than their last. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Last edited by ShadowOfLight on Fri Dec 29, 2017 9:49 am, edited 5 times in total.
When I am gone and all light is lost, you will see me again...

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Unread post Fri Jul 28, 2017 1:32 pm

Oho ShadowLight.

Having been totally captivated, enthralled, read three times your accounting.

Beautifully detailed, with emotions, feeling I was right there.

Admirable, totally, of your unrelenting perserverance, in holding steadfast to your inner strength of faith.

ShadowOfLight wrote:
Fri Jul 28, 2017 8:18 am
As it began its advance to do so, a flood of peace came down the stairs. It was cool and it was beautiful. As the calm cascaded, they retreated, faster than they had ever been known to advance (and that was FAST). Bending my neck to see the hall, I see the door is open. In the doorway is a star field, in front, the Moon Goddess in he purple and blue star dusted dress. Her blonde hair kept by a silver band with a crescent design and a moonstone inset. She bade no harm come to me.

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Unread post Fri Jul 28, 2017 3:19 pm

Owl, oh, ty. Hugs.

That was a moment of moments. Completely beyond my understanding of Gods, Goddesses, Angels, etc. Never seen an angel, but, never seen a taipan either. Dose not mean they do not exist. ....Gorgeous animals.

Appreciate the kind look at things.

Do regret, however, and it being nearly 20 years is no excuse, that I got part of the account wrong. I forgot a step. When I logged onto the computer, and the subsequent internet, Soaring Eagle was not immediately there. Two Feather was. She asked how I was, I said "okay" hahaha. She had a problem with spirit, needed help.

lol, I so wanted to rant, rave, exercise the Irish tongue, but, my second life sis said she had a problem. So, I did my best to remotely sense her situation. There was thing over there scaring her and her kids. I called my guides and did my best. Soaring Eagle came on shortly thereafter. I implored her help, which she obliged. After that was done and I closed my link to Two Feather, Soaring Eagle asked what was up. She heard the animals talking.

After that, yeah, is pretty much the same.

Was thinking back today about those I've worked with and withstood the fray with. Think there are three I still talk to. Two Feather is one. Is amazing how time changes . . . .

As for being brave, ie persevering, and holding steadfast to our personal truths . . . . In this field, more than any other, I think it is just the fact that this is what we do. And we do it.
Last edited by ShadowOfLight on Fri Dec 29, 2017 9:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
When I am gone and all light is lost, you will see me again...

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Unread post Fri Jul 28, 2017 3:36 pm

the incidents and the agony u went through is really life testing and coming out of it is amazing .words fail to describe.the divine blessing are there pouring on u in coming out of that horrible situation in the form holding faith in your strength

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