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Spirit Encounters

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Your Text: Insert Slimies » Insert UBB Code » Close Last Tag \| All Tags UBB Help	Ok, I got some time. My first experience goes way back - I was in grade school, I think. Funny how one cannot really remember something like that, but still have vivid memories of such an experience. It was the end of the year, summer. I can remember the lazy ride in the schoolbus, warm and I remember being sleepy, the bus movement and the low murmer of the other kids swam about my head. We lived off the beaten path, and the bus did not go to my house, instead I had a patch of road to walk that was around 4 miles long, with a river (the Trinity river) on one side, and woods of the hills on the other. I can remember the bus stopping, and getting off, my feet falling into the routine of treading down the road. It was like a dream, but not a dream. What I mean by this, is that everything was so [i]real[/i]. Normally when I dream, I am aware that I am dreaming (and that leads to some great fun, because being aware of dreaming allows one to control the dream, so one can do just about anything that one wants to, in the dream. Flying is fun ;) ) This was not a dream (meaning, I was not aware of dreaming). I remember the heat of the sun, it was a summer day. I can distinctly remember the dust motes in the rays of the sunlight beaming down, through the trees, lazily moving along in the almost breezeless day. The smell was particularly noticeable, in a way that one normally is not aware of it - the rich loam of the forest floor, the scents of plants. I felt watched. I turned, expecting to see something watching me, but I was not prepared for what I saw - it was like a bear, a big one. It was not a grizzly (I have never seen an actual grizzly in the wild, only on film or in the zoo - though I have seen many black bears in the wild). This was a brown bear, and it was very large, huge, to be honest. It stood on it's hind legs, towering up, and it was not looking at me like an animal would, but it's eyes held a fearsome and malign intelligence in them. I was it's prey. There enfolded a chase. I can remember the heart pounding, my legs working like pistons as the overwhelming feeling of complete dread, terror so stark that one chokes on it. This is not like the type of fear one tastes going into a fight (like one where you know you are going to be seriously hurt - like against a gang of indian boys bent on hurting you, and the realization that it is truly going to happen). Nor was it like the taste of bile that comes when you first head into the enemy guns, with the [i]whip, whip![/i] of barely perceived bullet trails all around, explosions, the smell of blood and guts, along with the screams and cries. This was complete, mind numbing horror, the precise knowledge that this thing, this gestalt was going to rend your self, your soul, spirit, call it what you will, and leave nothing behind. You would cease to exist, being totally consumed if it caught you. The smell of the bear (I call it a demon bear, and there are legends of this thing among my people) was cloying and thick. I can remember looking back and clearly seeing the sun light filtering on the hair of the things shoulders as it ran behind me, trotting, enjoying the chase. Those eyes...those horrible eyes. The wet sound of the jowls smacking, the huffs of the breath of the thing coming partially through my hoarse, hard breathing...the leaden feel of my legs. I realized I would have to turn and fight it, for I could not outrun it. It knew this, of course. I suspect that it could have caught me easily, had it truly been interested in doing so. But instead it chose to play with it's prey. The prey turned and fought. To this day, I do not know where the gun came from. I think this is a part of the white man in me. I remember the sudden weight and feel of it - comfortable, hard. It was definitely a pistol, a revolver, probably a .357 magnum. The barrel was long enough to be that. It was one of those moments, one of those clear moments, where everything moves [i]slowly[/i]. The slow movement of the barrel coming up, my thumb cocking back the hammer smoothly as I brought the sights up to bear, the demon thing's eyes slowly registering what I had in my hand, and the feeling of certain power, of absolute certainty of control being replaced by...something else. I think it was rage, because it let out a roar that caused shock waves, and the salivia flew out in a cone, I can still distinctly remember the feel of the heated drops on my face as the gun bucked in my hand, not once, not twice, but three times. My eyes traced the bullets in slow trajectory (this was years before Matrix, btw, but it was a bit similar in effect, but without the conic shockwaves). The first bullet struck the thing in the nose [b]and it stuck there![/b]. The second ricocceted from the upper left fang and the third disappeared into the fur of it's chest, a little offcenter to my right just before the shoulder. The gun was useless, so I threw it at the thing, my terror rising, as understanding came that I was not going to survive this. That is when HE came. I do not know where the warrior came from, for he sprang past me, with a loud shout brandishing a spear of wood with a stone tip. There were three feathers attached to the head, right before the stone point. I am not sure what bird they were from, but they were yellow-white, mostly, with dark brown - black fringe. There was a loud noise as the two clashed, and the spear darted here and there, wounding the bear-thing, the warrior dancing and weaving, ducking deadly paw swipes and bites. I must admit that I first stood there, as if rooted to the spot. Frozen. A fierce glance in my direction from the warrior got my feet in motion, and I stumbled into movement, and the pace picked up and I ran. I ran like I have never run, and that was the last memory I have from this experience. I remember coming home, down the dusty road (it was a dirt road that lead down from the pavement of the street that went by our property). Home never looked so good. I can remember the look on my mother's face, the instant alarm as she sensed something was wrong. Of course, I tried to tell her what was wrong, but it all came out wrong, jumbled up, my fear and excitement, pouring out between my tired breaths sounding most likely like babbling. My mother just held me in her arms. She doesn't remember this happening anymore. I remember much later, that some hunters found a cave along a creek that ran under the road to the river not far from where this occurred. In it was hairs that were sent off to the Smithsonian. They could not be identified as any known living thing. We learned this through my Natural Science teacher, and it was in the news. Of course, that area of Northern California is considered Bigfoot country, and the whole town was abuzz with the "bigfoot evidence". I never had such an experience again. I did, however, much later (as a teen) have another experience, one just as vivid. I was at my girlfriends house, and as teenagers do, we had been having our fun. It was in the aftermath, that lazy half-sleep that steals over one. I can remember peering through one half-closed eye, why I was not sure. Something had dragged me from just existing in the moment. I felt...a presence. A malign presence. A malign, intelligent presence. As I opened both eyes, and started to raise my head, I saw the blankets at the foot of the bed [i]move[/b]. Like some sort of snake, it slithered towards me, quickly, and curled around my neck, and then grew taunt. I know that I twisted and fought like a mad thing to get it off, and I was being choked, and could not breathe. My attempts to get free were pretty frantic, I guess, for they woke my girlfriend, and she must have seen my bulging eyes and straining limbs, and she grabbed onto the blankets as well, her face as terrified as mine. We managed to get the blanket uncurled from my neck, enough so that I could draw breath, anyway. I hate how being choked makes you cough. The blankets went dead, and the presence disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. My girlfriend at the time was very religious, and refused to speak about the incident. Now, did these events really happen? I don't know. I do know that they are real memories, as real and valid as those I have of other things. It is most probable that there are explanations for what happened - my childhood at the time of the demon bear incident was far from a happy one. Perhaps a reaction to that, certainly plausible. That with my girlfriend is a bit harder to explain, however. But then, perhaps it had to do with electromagnetic waves in that house. Whatever the reason, the memories remain. [url=http://faq.ozoneasylum.com/397/]WebShaman[/url] \| [i]The keenest sorrow (and greatest truth) is to recognize ourselves as the sole cause of all our adversities. - Sophocles[/i] Loading...
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