The Dark Man From My Dreams Pt. 3

Hi, it’s me again. And I apologize I wasn’t able to post yesterday. Had to make time for my fiance. In this part, some of the details I laid out before will be shown here. So let’s just dive in.

The next times I did have dreams or more odd nightmares they were just repeats of the previous ones I have had. But always the same ones, though something was different with each one. The Dark Shadow didn’t say that a kid would get hurt again. Just that one time. Though he would continuously hunt or hurt me. Even one time where I couldn’t escape him and he trapped me in a cage. When I woke up again my grandfather was worried about me. I had a fever that came out of nowhere and I had been asleep for 12 hours. He was worried I had gone into a coma or something.
Though this time after about two years later I was in the middle of my 9-year-old stage. And summer had rolled around again. When I dreamt this time, I had been absent of any dreams for a good few months, so I didn’t expect what would I be dreaming that night.

In the dream, I found myself wearing the usual white nightgown attire. Bare feet again. Though this time I was in a white room. Vast and endless as the black one. Though the ground was cold. Not so cold you couldn’t feel your toes but to the point of chilling like standing barefoot on the pavement mid-autumn. Immediately I was thinking “what now?” because some part of me knew this had something to do with “him”. Like all my other dreams if he was not present, he was still there to some extent, either a glimpse or a trace. Like a footprint, scratch marks on a tree, or even a dead animal with its throat bitten in half hanging on by a thick thread of skin and flesh. I walked for a while, but it wasn’t long till I did feel something, like a gentle cold breeze whisking by. And for some reason, something, some sort of instinct told me to turn around. So I did. And there once again I saw him…
This time clearer than anything, still silhouetted, bulky and tall. And if I were to wager a guess now? He must have been well over 7 ft. tall.
As he stood there, dark mist surrounded him collecting thickly around his legs and feet. His red eyes burned into me brilliantly. Then finally he moved, he stretched out his arm towards me like he was presenting me with his hand. As if for me to take it.
I shook my head no and tried to take a step back. Though that was a mistake. The brilliant light of his eyes half closed almost like his bow angled down into a glare. At this point, I had wanted nothing to do with him, and I’d be damned if I was to take that hand. I turned to run away from him but there was a low pitch that started off soft, then grew. It began to hurt my ears as it grew in intensity. And I buckled to the floor. I grasped at my ears to keep them covered and straining my eyelids to keep them closed as the noise grew but there wasn’t much I could do it hurt so much.
But just as quickly as it started it stopped. I opened my eyes and found myself back in my room, in a fetal position. I felt something wet on my hand and I looked at it. It was blood.
I tried to find where it was coming from when I realized it was coming from my left ear.
When I talked to my grandpa about it he said that it must have been a popped blood vessel or possibly I knocked it against something in my sleep. Though funny thing was, there was nothing sharp near my bed that could have caused that. And my bed had extra pillows and blankets on them that I had collected over the years as hand me downs.
I had no explanation for this. And I was growing even more scared each time I saw him. This even began to worry my grandpa. So he scheduled more counseling for me thinking that this was just a phase that needed to be worked out. Though that didn’t help either. The doctor had no explanation except it was trauma from my past with my parents that have begun to creep up on me. Though she said that it was still very unlikely because I was so young. And I wouldn’t remember any of that unless I was still 2-3 years old. Though that’s when the psychiatrist suggested “Night Terrors”. A phase that happens to kids and young teens and she assured my grandpa that I would grow out of them. It was just a result of high anxiety and also correlated with my emotional disorder.
Though if that was the case, I would have grown out of them by now, wouldn’t I? the chances of a 24-year-old woman having Night Terrors is very uncommon.

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The Dark Man From My Dreams Pt. 2

Hello, I am writing a follow up to my previous story “The Dark Man From My Dreams”. In this story, I will be depicting 2 dreams that had happened. And as well as some events that happened while I was awake.

At least about a week after the last dream I had, I wound up having another. And this time I had a bit more interaction with The Shadow Man. Though there was going to be a LOT more to see during the next two weeks.

I went to bed, as usual, samoyed once again there, though I will actually call her a different name than her original. So let’s just call her “Skye”. She had actually began to become a bit more “restless” as each day went by from the first incident. I had some trouble going back to sleep though this time. Because I generated a lot of heat back then, and I still do, so I remember I had gotten out of bed to open the window to my room, to which I actually had to stand on a chair to get to it. A couple of details about my room and the old house I stayed in when I was younger. I won’t tell you guys the actual town, but I will call it River Bend, my hometown. This house my grandfather owned was a big townhouse in River Bend, and not too far down the road was an old park called “Brandon’s Park”. They named it that because a kid died there, he was run over, and because he loved that park so much they named it after him. There is even a plaque for him showing his picture. I only lived two houses up the road from where the park was located. My room is situated in the back of the house, two floors off the ground. This detail is important for later in the story. My window was screened off because my grandfather knew I kept my window open at night, even in the winter. So he didn’t want me falling out so he installed that screen to keep me safe. When I returned to my bed Skye was already there and I had to push her over to the side because she was taking up my spot again. But when I lay once again to sleep it took me a long while, but eventually, it did blur into sleep and the next thing I knew I was in darkness again. Just like before.

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The Dark Man from my dreams

Let me first start off this by saying I have had quite a few experiences. And I will be sharing them over my time here. And please know that what I have posted and will post is all 100% true. And I say this wholeheartedly because this has all caused me some bad trauma and issues in the past and still affect me now.
A little about me: I am now a 24 year old woman. And this all still happens to me. I still get night terrors, I still have these nightmares, and I still see these horrific things.

Now on to the story….
This all started with my nightmares, with “him” at the forefront. And I know now I will never be rid of him. For better or worse, I am stuck with him…
When I was a little girl I was heavily traumatized by my abusive parents. When I mean abusive I mean my mother would purposely try to sabotage her pregnancy with me by drinking and smoking dope. And my father would beat her within an inch of her life, and once leaving her half naked for dead in the middle of the night, on the side of the highway. That being said, I stayed with her up until I was 3 years of age. My father ran off and my mother got pregnant with another guy which that pregnancy yielded my half younger brother now. This all correlates into a larger story mind you. But since that had happened, I had to go to therapy for the mental issues that had caused me. And still does to this day. Back then I was bullied for not having parents and had to stay with my grandfather, so I had rocks thrown at me, pushed, kicked, and ice chunks all pelted at me for my differences. And on top of all this, I had nightmares, normal child nightmares for a while. Until “he” came.

One night, while I was laying in bed, the first nightmare I remember having of him was when I was 6 or 7. I know this because this was back when I still had my old samoyed, she used to sleep with me. Or when my grandpa would put her away I would sneak down to let her out so she could stay with me. She was the only mother figure I had back then. When I slept like usual, dog by my side, I drempt of a dark area. I say area because it was vast, and the place was nothing like anything I recognized. It was just darkness.
Pure darkness.
I remember being barefoot in the dream. Wearing a white nightgown. And as I walked around my footing made a soft padding noise, like that of walking in a still vast room with marbled floor. The darkness below my feet was warm, not cold like flooring. As I walked I found that I had no voice at this point, because I tried to call out, and heard nothing. Even though I was clearly trying to speak. I know this because my jaw hurt in the dream.
It may have been hours or felt like it by this point because my legs began to hurt and sting from all the walking and running I had done. With out seeing anything at all in this dream.
That was until I hear it. You know that feeling when you feel something looking at you from behind? Like that hair raising itching feeling that something is looking at you. Yeah that feeling. That is what I felt, and as I turned, that was when I saw them. Two giant pairs of red eyes staring at me. The gleam from them was bright enough that it was actually making me squint and began to make my eyes ache, like staring into a light for too long. But regardless I was too afraid to look away. But as I did look, I could feel something else, like a hot steam, or breath wafting up and rolling from the dark floor.
You know how you try to wake up from a dream, or try to force it. In this case, no matter how I tried to I couldn’t wake up. Like I wasn’t supposed to, or not allowed to. But that was the first time I finally heard his voice. A deep reverberating cool voice spoke, “Wake…” and I opened my eyes.

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The Night I met death

When I was 15 years old, my life was in all kinds of turmoil. I won’t bore you with all of the little details, but I guess I could important to note that it was a tumultuous time in my life. My mom and her second husband were in the midst of a divorce, my younger two siblings were taken away by the state, and her and I were bouncing from couch to couch for months, using up all our good faith with family and friends.

Finally, my mother got approved for a mortgage, and she bought a little two bedroom house in town. After spending my entire life out in the sticks, I was a little disappointed at the fact that our closest neighbors went from miles away to meters away, but I was absolutely elated that I would finally have my own room again. I grew even more excited the day we moved in, when I saw it. My room was the entire upstairs! Though it was technically an attic, so the ceiling was a bit short, and I’d have to be careful not to hit my head on the rafters… It was still my teenage dream come true!

When I opened the door to my new room, I was greeted imediatly with a steep staircase leading up about 15 steps. Where the wall of the stairwell met my bedroom floor, there was a railing in place, for safety. I placed my foot on to the first step, and suddenly my excitement was replaced with a sudden urge to run. I complied to this urge, and booked it the whole way up the stairs.

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Sleep paralysis

It’s been awhile since I’ve been afraid of what lurks in the dark, I have grown as both a person and a witch but I’ll try to recapture some of the horror I’ve experienced while delving into the world of witchcraft.

One of my first experiences was with what some may call a mare, this entity is comprised of a blue energy, female and haunts the house I live in, when first encountering it I woke up to find I was unable to move, my body frozen by an invisible forced.

Panic instantly consumed me as I desperately tried to move everything and anything… I could not… I could feel a force above me as fingers began to wrap around my neck and squeeze.… the force was unbearable… it’s fingers dig into the back of my neck and into the spine… I couldn’t breath… it felt like I was going to pass out… on the edge… I awoke it was the dead of night and I was out of breath and trembling.

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Homesick

 

Homesick

      This story happened to me over the span of about 5 years, starting back in 1999 during my second year of middle school and ending near my 18th birthday. Before I begin, I’d like to apologize for the length of this story, as it really means a lot to me and I feel that I need to spend some time explaining all of the details. Now I’ve never been one to believe in ghosts and spirits and all that. Even now, I find it very hard to place my trust in the supposed paranormal encounters that I hear from time to time. However, these events that I’m about to share changed my life forever, and I will never think about life and death the same way again.

The story starts when I was 12 years old and attending 7th grade in Black Forest Colorado. I didn’t have many friends at the time because I was new to the area, and I was also a bit shy. I can’t even recall who I was friends with back then. However, I remember very clearly the day that I met her. She was a tall blonde girl who always had this sad and confused look in her eyes. Her name was Allie. I had seen her around the school before, and I knew that there was something a little off about her, like she had some kind of mental disability or something. Whenever I saw her she was always sitting somewhere by herself and drawing in her notebook.

People would make fun of her all the time because she was so quiet, like she literally never said a word to anyone. Ever. I actually thought that she might have been mute. It wasn’t until about half way through the semester when I noticed her standing near the school entrance, clutching her notebooks tightly to her chests, and looking as though she was about to cry. A few kids were holding up a picture that she had drawn, waving it around in the air while taunting her like a bunch of entitled assholes with nothing better to do than to humiliate this poor girl.

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The Man At Target

To start off, Target has been a go to place for me for as long as I can remember. My mother and I would be in there at least four to five times a week, we were there so often that employees would remember us and greet us by name whenever they seen us. However, it never occurred to me just how dangerous a shopping center could be, until one night changed my life forever.

I live in a small town in southern West Virgina, there are no more than 5,000 people who reside in my area. Most of them being elderly and harmless, and the occasional young punk who will do anything for a buck.  But all in all it is a fairly nice and safe area, or atleast I thought.

One night after school my mother asked me if I would like to go to Target with her pick up a couple groceries and of course I agreed and we went on our way.  Usually we went to target during the evening time or the early morning but this time it was around 11 PM,  so of course there were no cars in the parking lot but maybe one or two.  We were greeted by familiar faces and smiles as we made our way down each aisle.  Being only eight or nine years old at the time  I remember how excited I was when we approached the candy aisle and I begged my mom to buy me some candy and of course she said no. As I continued walking with her upset we noticed someone following us, and it wasn’t in a way that a normal person would just be going up and down the isles looking for something it was pretty obvious that they were following us.

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