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KEN KORCZAK:
In my experience, for what it is worth, there is almost certainly a 100% protection against evil forces on the Ouija Board, now matter how powerful they may be, and that protection is to have a sense of humor when confronting them.
Demons or evil spirits simply cannot stand to be laughed at, or mocked, or not taken seriously. I have had perhaps two dozen Ouija Board encounters with beings claiming to be "powerful demons" but they were pretty lame, in my view.
Here is an Ouija session conducted in the year 1978 with one of my college dorm-mates, and I’ll only use his nickname, which was Arlo.
First, some background to the session:
As it happens, we lived on the sixth floor of our dorm, our rooms were randomly assigned, and Arlo was put into room number 666. I was next door in 668. Arlo was into a lot of things. For example, he was obsessed with Jim Morrison of the Doors, who was already dead at the time. Even though this was the year 1978, Arlo was on the cutting edge of the music scene and listened to almost nothing else but Punk Rock, which had just barely emerged then. Of course, he listened to The Doors a lot, too.
Anyway, Arlo thought is was cool that he was assigned Room 666, which, of course, is the “Mark of the Beast.” He felt being assigned this room number was synchronistic because he had long been extremely interested in the topic of demonology. He was amazingly well-read and versed in demon lore --and he was also very up on angelology. Arlo was something of a genius, in my opinion. He was a frail, slender, pale young man with longish thin hair that was just very slightly tinged red. He was a shabby dresser.
We were from different parts of the state, but became good friends because we lived next door to each other, and had a lot in common. He was especially interested in my 10 years of experience of opening channels with the Ouija Board, partly because he had never had any luck with the board. He suggested we hold what he called an "Ouija Seance" in his room, and that we should see if we could contact some demons -- Arlo wanted to see if any of the demons knew anything about Jim Morrison. I don't know why he thought that Morrison should be hanging out with demons in the after life-- probably because Morrison was so disturbed in his regular life.
I agreed, but Arlo, the demon expert, insisted that we take some extremely stringent safeguards to protect ourselves from any demons we managed to contact. I considered this to be nonsense, but I went along with Arlo's plan.
(((( Incidentally, I had no fear of demons or anything similar because of something very strange that happened to me when I was 10 years old. Without going into details, I'll just briefly say that when I was 10, I was shot through the stomach with a hunting rifle on a bitter cold 15-below-zero day in northern Minnesota. As I lay bleeding to death on the frozen ground, I had an intense NDE-OBE of tremendous scope and variety -- that's all I'll say about it here, but suffice it to say it gave me what I needed to never be afraid of other-wordly entities. I have written about this experience elsewhere -- see my column here if you want to read more about it:
http://www.unexplained-mysteries.com/column.php?id=78514 ))))
Because Arlo and I had been raised in good Catholic families, we both had access to certain implements -- for example, Arlo had a bottle of some mega-powerful holy water. This holy water water was from the grotto spring of Lourdes in France, an extremely sacred sight for Catholics because it is said that the Virgin Mary appeared there -- you all can read up on Lourdes if you want to know more about it. Lourdes is also associated with the sightings of fairies.
Arlo's parents had been to France to visit the holy site and had brought back several bottles of water from Lourdes, and gave a bottle to Arlo as a gift. The water had also been blessed by an old and well-regarded Italian Catholic monk by the name of Brother Arcuri. I won't go into details as to why the Lourdes water had also been blessed by the saintly Brother Arcuri, but let's just say this this was some pretty powerful stuff!
It was like the plutonium of Holy Water!
Arlo suggested that we wipe down the Ouija Board with the Holy Water, and then also wash the oracle, or planchette as some call it, before we started our session. He also said that we should both take a sip of the Holy Water, and I agreed to this as well. Arlo used a white cloth which he had purified with the smoke of incense to wash the board and oracle. Arlo also purified his Room 666 with incense and holy water.
My contribution was also an extremely powerful article -- which delighted Arlo to no end. As it happens, I had in my possession a pair of candles made of beeswax that were tied into the form of a cross with palm fronds, and these palm fronds were originally from Jerusalem, and were also blessed. This cross of candles had been used during the Celebration of St. Blaise at my church back home -- during the Celebration of St. Blaise, everyone gets their throats blessed because St. Blaise is the saint who takes care of throat ailments. (If you are a Catholic, you know all this).
Here is how I happened to come into possession of this particular set of St. Blaise Candles: Most of the time, the Celebration of St. Blaise is held on Feb 3, but one year, Sunday happened to fall on the day before, Feb. 2 -- which is my birthday. So the Blessing of the Throat ceremony was held on my birthday that year, and I was acting as our priest’s assistant during the ceremony. When I told him that it happened to be my birthday, he made a gift of the candles to me, after they had been used to bless the throats of about 300 people.
When I told Arlo about this, he was not only pleased, but even more pleased to hear that my birthday was Feb.2. Most people today think of Feb. 2 as Ground Hog Day, but in the Christian tradition, Feb. 2 is "Candlemas" and also the day that the infant Jesus was presented in the Temple. Feb. 2 is also a major holiday for pagans -- they call it "Imbolc" which is "the day the light is reborn into the world." Imbolc literally means: "In the belly of the mother." Actually, the Christians swiped Imbolc from the pagans and changed it to Candlemas, but I digress.
As it happens, Arlo's birthday was Feb 3 -- one day after mine and St. Blaise Day. We thought this was another good sign, and yet another curious coincidence. However, we were in for an even bigger surprise, because the entity we contacted would tell us something that even more coincidental -- in fact, mind blowing, as you shall see.
So, anyway, Arlo had the super-powered-plutonium-grade holy water and I had my super-double-secret-and-extra-holy candles of St. Blaise, which had not only performed the blessing of hundreds of throats, but also synchronized with Arlo's birthday -- and furthermore, the candles had been consecrated not only with holy water, but also with some special kind of Catholic holy oil. We would use these candles to illuminate our Ouija Session.
In short -- we felt we were well prepared to confront the demon world on the Quija Board!
After about five days of preparations, we were ready. Another guy who lived on our floor caught wind of our impending session and begged to sit in as an observer. This was Stu, whom I have mentioned before. I told Stu he could be present, but that he would have to do something useful, such as act as the session recorder.
Arlo objected to Stu’s presence on the grounds that he had nothing to bring to the session similar to the holy icons that he and I had. I suggested Stu could partake of the Lourdes holy water, and we could consecrate him with incense. Stu refused this, however, on the grounds that he aspired to be a Rosicrusion, even though he was barely a neophyte of that order and was presently at work on only his third mandamus.
But I was sufficiently impressed that Stu was striving to climb the ladder of the Rosicrusion Order -- I reminded Arlo that the word Ouija is believed to come from the ancient Egyptian word which means "Good Luck" and that the Rosicrusions claims their order began in the mysticism of esoteric Egyptian knowledge. Thus, Stu was in.
Note: Even though Arlo and knew that contacting demons via the Ouija Board was forbidden by the Catholic Church, we did not care, since neither of us were practicing Catholics any more -- yet, we did not consider that our holy implements would be affected by this. We still had respect for the church and its deep traditions.
And so the big night finally began. The session would start at midnight in Room 666 -- present were Arlo, myself and Stu, our Rosicrucian recorder. The St. Blaise candles were lit .... and here is where things started to get slightly out of control, in my opinion.
We were set before the board, and Arlo prepared the holy water drink -- I was extremely dismayed to see that he had planned to drink more than holy water. In a small wine glass, Arlo poured about 2 ounces of Mogen David blackberry wine. Into the wine he poured in a small amount of the Lourdes holy water. So far, so good. But then, Arlo added about an ounce of Vick’s Formula 44 cough syrup -- and finally, he put in about a tablespoon of -- and I’m not making this up -- kerosene to the mixture. Then he drank it down in one gulp.
Arlo began to prepare the same cocktail for me, but I stopped him short. I told him that I sure as hell would not be drinking any kerosene tonight-- in fact, nor any night. I also refused the wine and Vick's Formula 44. I was a total nondrinker in those days. I asked only for a sip of the Lourdes holy water straight up, and Arlo was forced to comply. Stu, of course, refused even the holy water.
I finally opened the session:
Ken: Greetings to the vast Underworld! We seek contact with certain entities known in our world as demons. We command you to come forth and speak!
(The oracle immediately began spinning in circles but not spelling anything. So Arlo spoke next).
Arlo: Demons! Stop your dithering! Come forth, and beware! We command total power over you! You cannot refuse us!
(Presently, we started getting letters and words).
ANSWER: ROTTEN CRIB BABIES! WHY DO YOU SEEK?
Arlo: Our purposes are of no concern to you. We ask the questions. To whom to we speak?
ANSWER: THAT WHICH HAS NO NAME.
(Note: Arlo said demons never give their names willingly because anyone who knows a demon’s name commands total control over that demon.)
Arlo: Tell us your name, demon!
ANSWER: I DO NOT SERVE YOU, PATHETIC BUTTER MAKER!
(Note: Arlo seemed very much taken aback by being called a ‘butter maker.’ I would not learn why till later. Already Arlo was shaken, so I asked the next question).
Ken: Demon, why do you call my friend butter maker?
ANSWER: ASK HIM!
(Note: I refused to ask Arlo about this, although I wanted to, but I did not want to give the demon the upper hand by obeying any of its commands).
Ken: We ask the questions. You are obligated to answer. Tell us your name!
ANSWER: I HAVE NO NAME, CRIB BABY. YOU SUCK THE THUMB OF THE BUTTER MAKER!
Ken: Shut up and be compliant. It will not go well for you if you are not cooperative. We will not release you until you do. Will you comply?
ANSWER: PATHETIC CRIB BABIES WHO SUCK EACH OTHER’S THUMBS! YOUR FRIEND IS AFRAID!
(Note: Arlo and I both immediately looked at Stu, who indeed looked very nervous.)
Ken: Although we are indifferent, tell us why you call us crib babies who suck each other’s thumbs?
ANSWER: PATHETIC MOTHER’S BOYS. ASK YOUR WET NURSE!
(Arlo had recovered now, although he was a bit glassy-eyed from his holy water-kerosene cocktail. He spoke next).
Arlo: Demon, we will give you one more chance to tell us your name, or face the consequences!
ANSWER: VULGAR BRAT! SUCK YOUR THUMB!
Arlo: Demon, since you refuse to give us your name, I hereby will name you and hold you to the name I give you, and you will answer to it. I name you Kax!
(Note: After he said this, Arlo wrote the name “Kax” on a slip of paper with a calligraphy pen, then held it up to our holy St. Blaise candles and burned it).
Arlo: Kax, you will now attend to our questioning, and you will not dissemble!
ANSWER: I CAST A ROT UPON YOUR SOUL!
Arlo: Do your best, Kax! Now tell us, Kax, what do you know of the deceased soul of Jim Morrison?
ANSWER: HE ROTS IN HELL LIKE ALL DEAD HUMANS!
(I jumped in with the next question).
Ken: Kax, you will stop lying and stop speaking in generalities. Tell us specifically what you know about Jim Morrison.
ANSWER: WILL YOU RELEASE ME IF I ANSWER?
Ken: No. You will answer question according to our will, and for as long as we want. Tell us truthfully about your knowledge of Jim Morrison.
ANSWER: BAH! THE DEMENTED HUMAN LIVES YET, BUT HE WILL BE WITH US SOON ENOUGH.
(This really got Arlo’s attention.)
Arlo: Kax, are you telling us that Jim Morrison is not dead, and that he faked his death?
ANSWER: WILL YOU RELEASE ME IF I ANSWER?
Arlo: Kax, we tire of your insolence! I hereby fine you 10 credits! You are now indebted to me for 10 credits. I will remove one credit if you speak truthfully of Jim Morrison!
ANSWER: I HAVE TOLD YOU ALL I KNOW, BUTTER MAKER. MORRISON LIVES!
Arlo: Stop calling me butter maker! Where does Jim Morrison live? In what location?
ANSWER: TEXAS. I HAVE RETIRED MY CREDITS. RELEASE ME!
Arlo: Certainly you are delusional! I extract only a single credit. You owe us 9 credits!
ANSWER: YOUR FRIEND IS AFRAID. HIS THUMB GROWS PAINFUL!
(Note: Arlo and I were so focused on the board, we had almost forgotten about Stu, but we looked at him now, and indeed, he said that his thumb was now throbbing with pain. He showed us his thumb, and I was surprised to see that it looked very swollen. Stu was very nervous. I told him to get out, but he wanted to stay. I think he didn’t want to look like a wimp, although he probably wanted to leave).
Ken: Kax, you must think we are stupid. We are not. You are stupid. We don’t care about Stu's thumb, nor ours. I dare you to infect my thumb!
ANSWER: YOU SUCK YOUR FRIEND’S THUMB IN THE CRIB!
Ken: Kax, why do you keep saying we suck thumbs in the crib? Does this refer to anything significant, and we command you to answer truthfully. We will subtract an additional credit point toward your release.
ANSWER: ASK YOUR WET NURSE! RELEASE ME!
(At this point, Stu began to moan and groan and was holding his thumb. I told him to show it to me, and was amazed to see it seemed to be about twice it’s normal size. Arlo stared glassy-eyed at Stu’s thumb in the dim light cast by the St. Blaise candles. Then Arlosuddenly turned his head away and vomited. At this point, it seemed to me that both Stu and Arlo were in over their heads, and I decided to end the session).
Ken: Listen to me now, Kax. You are indebted to us to the count of 20 credits. I issue these additional points of bondage as punishment for your mischief. I now command you to go to sleep. You will sleep in a state of unconsciousness for one thousand years. At that point, your debt of 20 credits will be paid in full, and you may awaken. Your name will no longer be Kax. Furthermore, when you awaken, you will disperse your energy and serve only the power of love, and will never work mischief again!
I then took the bottle of Lourdes water and doused the candles with them. I poured more of the water onto the Ouija board and planchette, and then got up to switch on the lights.
Blinking in the harsh electric lights, Arlo looked extremely pale and sick -- after all, he had drank wine, cough syrup and kerosene. Stu got up and bolted out the door. Arlo plopped down in his bunk, and I went back to my room to make notes about the whole event.
The next morning, I checked in with Stu to see about his thumb. Stu said he went to the campus medical center, and the doctor told him his thumb had gotten infected -- that was because Stu had always been a compulsive nail biter. It seems that a hang nail on his thumb had become infected, probably from bacteria in his mouth. The doctor gave him some antibiotics, and his thumb was cured.
I considered the whole session to be interesting, although something of a disaster. I thought Arlo's obsession with Jim Morrison was a waste of effort -- Kax probably didn’t know Jim Morrison from Janice Joplin and probably only told us anything we wanted to hear. However, something extremely interesting was yet to be discovered. The next weekend, I went home to visit my family. I told my mother about my friend Arlo --whose real name I won’t give here.
My mother was extremely surprised to learn that Arlo was my next-door dorm mate. Mom went into the closet and got out an old black-n-white photo of two three-month-old babies sitting in a crib together. My mom said: “That’s you and Arlo. His family used to live next door to us. Arlo was born just a day after you were. His mother and I were pregnant at the same time, and we used to walk together on the railroad tracks when we feeling bloated or had sore backs. When Arlo’s mother and I got together for coffee, we would put you both in the same crib. They moved away when Arlo was about 8 or 9 months old. His dad was the butter maker at the creamery. It’s amazing that you two ended up being neighbors again almost 20 years later!”
I said: “Yes! That is amazing!”
FIND MORE STORIES LIKE THIS IN MY BOOK: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA
MINNESOTA PARANORMALA
Showing posts with label Ouija demons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ouija demons. Show all posts
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Ouija Demon Rantor Rantic - PART 3
KEN KORCZAK:
And so the marathon session continues ... not to newcomers here, this is Part 3 of my session contacting the "demon" that identified itself as Rantor Rantic. Scroll down to find parts 1 and 2.
****
Question: As always, MOMMY, all your statements only produce dozens more questions for us. It makes me wonder -- are you an encystment process, and is The Nothing Chamber some kind of encystment process?
ANSWER: NO, HONEY. THE NOTHING CHAMBER IS A PLACE WHERE THERE IS NOTHING. THERE IS NO DIMENSION.
Question: I was afraid you would say that. But getting back to Rantor Rantic … I’m not sure what to ask first. You say I met Rantor Rantic twice. I would think I would remember meeting this remarkable apparition -- or whatever -- a second time. Can you prompt me about the second time I saw Rantor Rantic?
ANSWER: IN THE WOODS WITH THE BEAUTIFUL COMPANION. THE BEAUTIFUL COMPANION WOKE YOU JUST IN TIME TO SEE RANTOR RANTIC. THE BEAUTIFUL COMPANION WAS STANDING ON YOUR CHEST.
(Note: When this message came across from MOMMY, I was just … well … it is difficult to find the right words. It wasn’t really a feeling of shock, or amazement. It was a feeling like my head was suddenly swarming with hornets, or perhaps nuclear-powered goose bumps -- and then a feeling like my entire head turned into one gigantic shivering goose bump.
I quickly excused myself and told all the guys I needed a minute, and perhaps the session was over. I went into a bedroom, sat down in the dark, and I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that I wept for about 10 minutes. For I now remembered the second time I confronted Rantor Rantic.
Here is what happened: The year was 1995, during which we experienced one of the coldest periods in Minnesota history. It was the week the record was set at 60-degrees-below zero (Fahrenheit). One of my favorite things to do during these extreme cold snaps is ride my mountain bike along a series of snowmobile trails, which become very hard-frozen. The trails are compacted and solid, so the bike does not sink, yet the snow on either side of the trail remains soft -- thus, if one slips up and goes off the path, and if you are going fast enough, you can get pitched off the bike and into the snow.
What made it even more fun for me is that my “beautiful companion” -- my big dog -- always ran with me along the frozen trails. I cannot tell you the dog’s name for a reason you will find very strange -- it was because this dog had a “secret name” that only he and I knew -- there is a long story behind that, but I won’t go into it here. Anyway, I’ll just use MOMMY’S apt description of this dog, and refer to him as BC, which, again, was not his real “secret name.”
So, anyway, one night I was staying out at the cabin with BC. At about midnight I noticed it was 42-below-zero outside. BC brought me my riding boot, which meant he was all revved up for a daring midnight mountain bike ride in the frigid cold of night. I agreed and so “suited up” against the deep freeze. Before suiting up, BC ate a pound of raw salmon, and I ate almost as much of the same, which is excellent fuel for extreme cold activity.
Shortly, BC and I were heading out into the icy night. A cheery moonlight cast a silver sheen across the snow, making the snow-encrusted Minnesota countryside look like perhaps the Sea of Tranquility on the Moon.
After about a half-mile jaunt down a gravel road, we plunged into the dark forest on a snowmobile trail -- this path winds deep into the woods for as many miles as one cares to go. On this night, I figured that I could last 5 to 10 miles before getting into serious trouble through loss of body heat -- the key is to keep peddling the bicycle like mad, keeping your blood flowing and muscles working to self-generate warmth.
In a way, this is stupid and dangerous, especially if you do it alone in a remote location, even if you have a good dog as your partner in the endeavor -- but that’s the nature of all extreme sports, right? An element of danger.
As always, BC was always well ahead of me. He was impervious to the cold. His quarry on these runs were the gigantic snow-white jackrabbits that always seem to be around no matter how cold it is, but he also sometimes scared up weasels, deer and other critters of the woods. For BC, these runs were paradise.
Suddenly about three miles deep into the woods, I was peddling like a madman and right in the middle of the trail there was a sudden soft spot - these are sometimes created when a snowmobile stops, then spins out, digging up the icy surface a bit. When my front wheel hit it, the bike stopped dead, and I was pitched up and over, doing a flip over the handle bars and landing flat on my back with tremendous force. I also conked my head on the hard ice. (No helmet -- dumb, I know).
I felt crushing pain in my chest and my head was vibrating -- I saw sparkling lights. I was momentarily immobilized there down on the frozen surface. But even my brief delirium, I knew I was in big trouble -- just a few minutes of lying there in the 42-degree-below would quickly rob my body of heat. Your fingers and toes go first -- they start to tingle and burn … then you have a problem …
Well, there was a moment of confusion, an intense feeling of disorientation, and suddenly I felt a thumping on my chest, and I could hear BC barking aggressively very close to my head. I opened my eyes and realized BC was standing with his front paws on my chest but he was very focused on the woods -- I heaved myself erect, BC jumped off and charged the woods. I looked at what he was after and I saw a flash of deer antlers in a ray of moonlight filtering through the trees -- and for just a split second -- a nanosecond -- I had the crazy impression that BC was chasing not a deer, but a man, whom for some reason was wearing a strange hat festooned with deer antlers, maybe like some kind of primitive Viking helmet. Of course, my head was all blinky, so to speak.
But then I instantly forgot about it because a nanosecond was all I had. The urgency to get up, get back on the bike, and start peddling out of the forest was critical, or I might have frozen to death. Of course, I made it back to the cabin, but my fingers were totally without feeling, and both my feet felt like a couple of frozen hams. I had a dime-sized patch of frostbite on my cheek.
So, anyway, I never thought of the incident with the deer-man after that -- until MOMMY suggested that what we actually confronted in the woods that night was the Artifact -- Rantor Rantic.
The reason I became so emotional when MOMMY prompted me to remember this event, and the heroic aid I received from my Beautiful Companion, is that after 17 years of wonderful life and many adventures with my best friend, I buried my Beautiful Companion under a sugar maple in my yard last summer. If you have ever had a dog that you truly love, you know how it is. You want them to live forever, but of course, they don’t, not in the physical sense anyway. And when they leave, they take your heart with them.
So that’s where this session ends -- but in the future, I’ll give you MOMMY’S explanation of how I could have confronted the Rantor Rantic Artifact in the past, how and why it could appear in human-like form, though not even a living entity, and even though I had never heard of him before we started this particular Ouija session -- on a dare.
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I BLOG; THEREFORE, I AM
And so the marathon session continues ... not to newcomers here, this is Part 3 of my session contacting the "demon" that identified itself as Rantor Rantic. Scroll down to find parts 1 and 2.
****
Question: As always, MOMMY, all your statements only produce dozens more questions for us. It makes me wonder -- are you an encystment process, and is The Nothing Chamber some kind of encystment process?
ANSWER: NO, HONEY. THE NOTHING CHAMBER IS A PLACE WHERE THERE IS NOTHING. THERE IS NO DIMENSION.
Question: I was afraid you would say that. But getting back to Rantor Rantic … I’m not sure what to ask first. You say I met Rantor Rantic twice. I would think I would remember meeting this remarkable apparition -- or whatever -- a second time. Can you prompt me about the second time I saw Rantor Rantic?
ANSWER: IN THE WOODS WITH THE BEAUTIFUL COMPANION. THE BEAUTIFUL COMPANION WOKE YOU JUST IN TIME TO SEE RANTOR RANTIC. THE BEAUTIFUL COMPANION WAS STANDING ON YOUR CHEST.
(Note: When this message came across from MOMMY, I was just … well … it is difficult to find the right words. It wasn’t really a feeling of shock, or amazement. It was a feeling like my head was suddenly swarming with hornets, or perhaps nuclear-powered goose bumps -- and then a feeling like my entire head turned into one gigantic shivering goose bump.
I quickly excused myself and told all the guys I needed a minute, and perhaps the session was over. I went into a bedroom, sat down in the dark, and I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that I wept for about 10 minutes. For I now remembered the second time I confronted Rantor Rantic.
Here is what happened: The year was 1995, during which we experienced one of the coldest periods in Minnesota history. It was the week the record was set at 60-degrees-below zero (Fahrenheit). One of my favorite things to do during these extreme cold snaps is ride my mountain bike along a series of snowmobile trails, which become very hard-frozen. The trails are compacted and solid, so the bike does not sink, yet the snow on either side of the trail remains soft -- thus, if one slips up and goes off the path, and if you are going fast enough, you can get pitched off the bike and into the snow.
What made it even more fun for me is that my “beautiful companion” -- my big dog -- always ran with me along the frozen trails. I cannot tell you the dog’s name for a reason you will find very strange -- it was because this dog had a “secret name” that only he and I knew -- there is a long story behind that, but I won’t go into it here. Anyway, I’ll just use MOMMY’S apt description of this dog, and refer to him as BC, which, again, was not his real “secret name.”
So, anyway, one night I was staying out at the cabin with BC. At about midnight I noticed it was 42-below-zero outside. BC brought me my riding boot, which meant he was all revved up for a daring midnight mountain bike ride in the frigid cold of night. I agreed and so “suited up” against the deep freeze. Before suiting up, BC ate a pound of raw salmon, and I ate almost as much of the same, which is excellent fuel for extreme cold activity.
Shortly, BC and I were heading out into the icy night. A cheery moonlight cast a silver sheen across the snow, making the snow-encrusted Minnesota countryside look like perhaps the Sea of Tranquility on the Moon.
After about a half-mile jaunt down a gravel road, we plunged into the dark forest on a snowmobile trail -- this path winds deep into the woods for as many miles as one cares to go. On this night, I figured that I could last 5 to 10 miles before getting into serious trouble through loss of body heat -- the key is to keep peddling the bicycle like mad, keeping your blood flowing and muscles working to self-generate warmth.
In a way, this is stupid and dangerous, especially if you do it alone in a remote location, even if you have a good dog as your partner in the endeavor -- but that’s the nature of all extreme sports, right? An element of danger.
As always, BC was always well ahead of me. He was impervious to the cold. His quarry on these runs were the gigantic snow-white jackrabbits that always seem to be around no matter how cold it is, but he also sometimes scared up weasels, deer and other critters of the woods. For BC, these runs were paradise.
Suddenly about three miles deep into the woods, I was peddling like a madman and right in the middle of the trail there was a sudden soft spot - these are sometimes created when a snowmobile stops, then spins out, digging up the icy surface a bit. When my front wheel hit it, the bike stopped dead, and I was pitched up and over, doing a flip over the handle bars and landing flat on my back with tremendous force. I also conked my head on the hard ice. (No helmet -- dumb, I know).
I felt crushing pain in my chest and my head was vibrating -- I saw sparkling lights. I was momentarily immobilized there down on the frozen surface. But even my brief delirium, I knew I was in big trouble -- just a few minutes of lying there in the 42-degree-below would quickly rob my body of heat. Your fingers and toes go first -- they start to tingle and burn … then you have a problem …
Well, there was a moment of confusion, an intense feeling of disorientation, and suddenly I felt a thumping on my chest, and I could hear BC barking aggressively very close to my head. I opened my eyes and realized BC was standing with his front paws on my chest but he was very focused on the woods -- I heaved myself erect, BC jumped off and charged the woods. I looked at what he was after and I saw a flash of deer antlers in a ray of moonlight filtering through the trees -- and for just a split second -- a nanosecond -- I had the crazy impression that BC was chasing not a deer, but a man, whom for some reason was wearing a strange hat festooned with deer antlers, maybe like some kind of primitive Viking helmet. Of course, my head was all blinky, so to speak.
But then I instantly forgot about it because a nanosecond was all I had. The urgency to get up, get back on the bike, and start peddling out of the forest was critical, or I might have frozen to death. Of course, I made it back to the cabin, but my fingers were totally without feeling, and both my feet felt like a couple of frozen hams. I had a dime-sized patch of frostbite on my cheek.
So, anyway, I never thought of the incident with the deer-man after that -- until MOMMY suggested that what we actually confronted in the woods that night was the Artifact -- Rantor Rantic.
The reason I became so emotional when MOMMY prompted me to remember this event, and the heroic aid I received from my Beautiful Companion, is that after 17 years of wonderful life and many adventures with my best friend, I buried my Beautiful Companion under a sugar maple in my yard last summer. If you have ever had a dog that you truly love, you know how it is. You want them to live forever, but of course, they don’t, not in the physical sense anyway. And when they leave, they take your heart with them.
So that’s where this session ends -- but in the future, I’ll give you MOMMY’S explanation of how I could have confronted the Rantor Rantic Artifact in the past, how and why it could appear in human-like form, though not even a living entity, and even though I had never heard of him before we started this particular Ouija session -- on a dare.
FOR MORE TRUE STORIES OF THE PARANORMAL, PLEASE GO HERE:
I BLOG; THEREFORE, I AM
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Contacting Demons by Ouija on a Dare
KEN KORCZAK:
I conducted his session on a dare. A person on another Web site dared anyone to contact a demon via the Ouija board, and to even send that demon after friends or relatives -- in short -- to conjur a demon and dare to mess with "It" as much as possible.
My Ouija team and I took up the challenge, and the following is the transcript from the session:
The Demon Rantor Rantic
This session took place in a cabin I have deep in the woods in northern Minnesota. It was a bitter cold evening with temps dipping to near 30-below-zero, with a stiff wind whipping the wind chill factor to near 50-below.
But I had a strong fire stoked in the wood stove, and there was a wonderful spirit of friendship and camaraderie inside. There were 11 people on hand to observe the session. Earlier, I had treated everyone to my special recipe for walleye chowder. Working the board with me was my friend Brian, and because our usual recorder, Darcy, was not available, another dear and lovely friend, Holly, agreed to act as official recorder.
I felt there was good energy in the room, despite the fact that our goal tonight was to contact evil spirits or demons -- but we all agreed to hold open minds and keep an objective attitude, and treat the questions posed by the OP with respect.
Another important note: For this session, we used two Ouija Boards, for reasons I will explain later. We started the session with the magnetic Ouija board, and set up my old, tried and true board on a separate table near at hand. As always, all answers derived from the board will be displayed in ALL-CAPS.
And so we began:
Opening statement: Greetings! We seek communication with any being who would identify itself as a demon, or powerfully evil spirit or entity. Please, we are seeking only the truly wicked and evil tonight. All others please hold -- again, we cast out our mind for an evil demon! Come forth!
(Note: Without a second of delay, the oracle moved swiftly under our fingers and began to spell words).
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC OF MANY THOUGHTS, MANY THOUGHTS.
Question: Are you evil or demonic, or a combination thereof? We are seeking someone or something that is extremely evil.
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC OF MANY THOUGHTS. I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU.
Question: Are these thoughts of an evil nature?
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC OF MANY THOUGHTS, MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU, YOU SON-OF-BITCH.
Question: You comment would suggest you are hostile, at the very least. Are you evil?
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC, HOW IS YOUR MOTHER, YOU SON-OF-A BITCH?
(Note: For the record, my mother is dead, but at any rate, I decided that Rantor Rantic was merely baiting me with thoughts of my deceased mother. I decided to not take the bait, and rather, stay in control of the flow of communication).
Question: Tell me what kind of thoughts you have for me, Rantor Rantic?
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC, AND WHEN I SUCK OUT YOUR EYEBALLS, EAT YOUR MIND AND GORE YOUR BRAIN (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete).
(Note: I’m sorry, but I feel it is best to delete the truly horrific comments uttered by Rantor Rantic. I want to kep foul language and psychotic-psyhological brutality to a minimum on this blog -- which after all is a family blog! Let me just say, Rantor Rantic’s statements were shockingly brutal and horribly obscene, so much so that Holly, our recorder, put down her notepad in the middle of this diatribe, and decided to opt out of the session, and the two other females also wanted to leave.
We were obliged to wait while Holly went out to start her 4 x 4 pick-up and let it warm up in the frigid cold outside before she could take her leave. Once Holly and her friends had left, our personable and intelligent friend Eugene volunteered to take over recording duties. There were now 8 of us left to confront the demon Rantor Rantic. Presently, we resumed the session).
Question: Rantor Rantic, I am satisfied that you are truly an evil being of some kind, and have a diseased view of reality. Where are you and what are you? Are you a demon, existing in the demon realms?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete….).
(Note: Again, a fantastically horrible spewing of the worst kind of stuff that you could ever imagine -- I mean, neither Brian or I possess the imagination to come up with material like this. It’s gruesomely, even depressingly horrible stuff).
Question: Rantor Rantic, we will stipulate that you are extremely evil. Certainly, you are accomplished in the rhetoric of evil, at least. Now, to continue with our program, we ask you to materialize in our physical location. Can you cast your being or presence into this room we are located in right now, and perhaps take possession of my body, or that of one of us present here tonight?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND I WILL HAVE MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU.
Question: But can you manifest inside this room right now?
ANSWER: IN GOOD TIME. I AM RANTOR RANTIC. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU. SO MANY.
Question: Rantor Rantic, you say “in good time.” Does that mean you will materialize into my location at some time in the near future?
ANSWER: IN GOOD TIME, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH.
Question: That’s all well in good, but you seem to be stalling. Why “in good time”? Why don’t you just come here right now?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete).
(Note: Here again, Rantor Rantic vomited forth a stunning array of profane and absolutely disgusting commentary, if it could be called commentary at all. We decided to continue with the program as outlined by the dare.)
From the person who made the dare, the suggestion was made that we should ask a demon to “scare our family.” We took a break for a group discussion to consider which member of whose family we should send Rantor Rantic to scare -- I quickly volunteered a member of my own family.
I have three brothers, whom I‘ll just identify here as Brother X, Brother Y and Brother Z. Everyone present knows all three of my brothers. We held a short discussion on which of my brothers would be best to inflict a demon upon, and we were all in agreement that we should cast Rantor Rantic upon my Brother X because we all felt he was psychologically and spiritually the weakest. Thus in agreement, we went back to the Ouija Board).
Question: Rantor Rantic, we now would request that you take up whatever evil powers or abilities that you have at your disposal, and use them to scare my Brother X. My brother lives in (X location) -- is there anything more you need in terms of information or direction to go over and scare him as much as possible?
ANSWER: FOR YOUR BROTHER X AND FOR YOU I WILL (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete).
Question: That’s some truly strong and stinging commentary -- but we will be expecting you -- and in fact, Rantor Rantic -- we now command you and urge you to visit yourself upon my Brother X, and we insist and command you to frighten him to a very severe degree. We absolutely demand that you really rattle his cage like it has never been rattled before. This we command. Will you comply?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU, YOU SON-OF-BITCH. I HAVE MANY PLANS FOR YOU.
Question: Please work your demented plans on my Brother X right now. He’s probably asleep in his bed at this time. He’s vulnerable. Perhaps you could at least enter his dreams and give him the fright of his life. We dare you to go and give Brother X a severe nightmare. Furthermore, we will be checking on the results. We will call Brother X and see if you can put your actions where your words are, or are you all talk? Are you up for the challenge?
ANSWER: IN GOOD TIME, YOU SON-OF-BITCH. YOU AND BROTHER X WILL NEVER REST.
Question: Well, so far, you have proven that you can proclaim many shocking and repugnant statements, but I have yet to fear for my future state of comity. We are now going to take a one-hour break, during which time we will expect you to work your mischief on us, or on my Brother X, and we will be checking the results. Understood?
ANSWER: YOU ARE A BREAKAGE. YOU WILL NEVER REST.
(Note: We took a one-hour break. The time was now about an hour after midnight. We decided that at about 2 a.m., we would call my Brother X to see if he had experienced at least a nightmare, or some other scary experience. I arranged to record my phone conversation with my Brother X, and so here is the transcript of the call):
RING:
(Note: My Brother X’s wife answered the phone).
Ken: Hello, Alice (not her real name). This is Ken. Can I speak with Brother X?
(Note: I knew my Brother X’s wife would be awake even at this late hour. She’s an insomniac and usually stays up till about 4 a.m. on a regular basis).
Alice: He’s in bed asleep! You scared the s**t out of me. What’s wrong? Why are you calling so late?
Ken: I’m sorry to scare you, Alice, but we are conducting an important experiment with the Ouija Board. We really need to speak with Brother X. It might be important. He may be in danger. Can you wake him up?
Alice: Oh you (delete profanity), and your damned (deleted profanity) Ouija Board! He was at the American Legion meeting all night and had a lot to drink. I doubt he’s getting up for anything, and he has to get up early for work in the morning.
Ken: We only want to talk to him for a minute. Do me a favor and put the phone right by Brother X’s bed and let the phone keep ringing until Brother X wakes up and he answers it. It’s important.
Alice: He’s going to kill you.
Ken: Well, this is for science. It’s important. Will you put the phone by his bed?
Alice: It’s your funeral.
Ken: Thanks, Alice.
(Note: We waited five minutes and then began ringing Brother X’s phone. After about 10 minutes he finally answered).
Brother X: What!
Ken: Sorry to wake you, Brother X. This is Ken.
Brother X: What the hell do you want! What’s going on!
Ken: This is extremely important. Have you been experiencing a nightmare just now, or anything else that is strange?
Brother X: The only god--^%^%^% nightmare is going be when I drive over there and break your **&*&&^% face!
Ken: It’s 30-below-zero outside. Your car probably won’t start. But just listen to me for a minute. We contacted an entity named Rantor Rantic on the Ouija Board and ….
Brother X: I swear to God, I am going kick my foot up your ass so far, you’re going to be licking my toes until the 4th of July, and if you call one more time … I mean it, you son-of-b***h.
CLICK!
(Note: I had my call on speaker phone so all in my Ouija group could hear our conversation. Everyone began to make all kinds of wild speculations. My friend Odin, for example, pointed out how eerie is was that Brother X and threatened me and called me a son-of-a-b***h, just as Rantor Rantic had done a number of times.
The speculation was that perhaps Rantor Rantic was a few steps ahead of us, and was manipulating the whole situation. Others argued that this was ridiculous. Clearly, we had more ground to cover, and so the session continued despite the late hour.
That's it for now ...
I’ll post the next part of the session when I get some time … I apologize for the delay.
NOTE: FOR MORE TRUE STORIES PARANORMAL STORIES OF ALL KINDS, PLEASE GO TO:
I BLOG; THEREFORE, I AM
I conducted his session on a dare. A person on another Web site dared anyone to contact a demon via the Ouija board, and to even send that demon after friends or relatives -- in short -- to conjur a demon and dare to mess with "It" as much as possible.
My Ouija team and I took up the challenge, and the following is the transcript from the session:
The Demon Rantor Rantic
This session took place in a cabin I have deep in the woods in northern Minnesota. It was a bitter cold evening with temps dipping to near 30-below-zero, with a stiff wind whipping the wind chill factor to near 50-below.
But I had a strong fire stoked in the wood stove, and there was a wonderful spirit of friendship and camaraderie inside. There were 11 people on hand to observe the session. Earlier, I had treated everyone to my special recipe for walleye chowder. Working the board with me was my friend Brian, and because our usual recorder, Darcy, was not available, another dear and lovely friend, Holly, agreed to act as official recorder.
I felt there was good energy in the room, despite the fact that our goal tonight was to contact evil spirits or demons -- but we all agreed to hold open minds and keep an objective attitude, and treat the questions posed by the OP with respect.
Another important note: For this session, we used two Ouija Boards, for reasons I will explain later. We started the session with the magnetic Ouija board, and set up my old, tried and true board on a separate table near at hand. As always, all answers derived from the board will be displayed in ALL-CAPS.
And so we began:
Opening statement: Greetings! We seek communication with any being who would identify itself as a demon, or powerfully evil spirit or entity. Please, we are seeking only the truly wicked and evil tonight. All others please hold -- again, we cast out our mind for an evil demon! Come forth!
(Note: Without a second of delay, the oracle moved swiftly under our fingers and began to spell words).
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC OF MANY THOUGHTS, MANY THOUGHTS.
Question: Are you evil or demonic, or a combination thereof? We are seeking someone or something that is extremely evil.
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC OF MANY THOUGHTS. I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU.
Question: Are these thoughts of an evil nature?
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC OF MANY THOUGHTS, MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU, YOU SON-OF-BITCH.
Question: You comment would suggest you are hostile, at the very least. Are you evil?
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC, HOW IS YOUR MOTHER, YOU SON-OF-A BITCH?
(Note: For the record, my mother is dead, but at any rate, I decided that Rantor Rantic was merely baiting me with thoughts of my deceased mother. I decided to not take the bait, and rather, stay in control of the flow of communication).
Question: Tell me what kind of thoughts you have for me, Rantor Rantic?
Answer: I AM RANTOR RANTIC, AND WHEN I SUCK OUT YOUR EYEBALLS, EAT YOUR MIND AND GORE YOUR BRAIN (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete).
(Note: I’m sorry, but I feel it is best to delete the truly horrific comments uttered by Rantor Rantic. I want to kep foul language and psychotic-psyhological brutality to a minimum on this blog -- which after all is a family blog! Let me just say, Rantor Rantic’s statements were shockingly brutal and horribly obscene, so much so that Holly, our recorder, put down her notepad in the middle of this diatribe, and decided to opt out of the session, and the two other females also wanted to leave.
We were obliged to wait while Holly went out to start her 4 x 4 pick-up and let it warm up in the frigid cold outside before she could take her leave. Once Holly and her friends had left, our personable and intelligent friend Eugene volunteered to take over recording duties. There were now 8 of us left to confront the demon Rantor Rantic. Presently, we resumed the session).
Question: Rantor Rantic, I am satisfied that you are truly an evil being of some kind, and have a diseased view of reality. Where are you and what are you? Are you a demon, existing in the demon realms?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete….).
(Note: Again, a fantastically horrible spewing of the worst kind of stuff that you could ever imagine -- I mean, neither Brian or I possess the imagination to come up with material like this. It’s gruesomely, even depressingly horrible stuff).
Question: Rantor Rantic, we will stipulate that you are extremely evil. Certainly, you are accomplished in the rhetoric of evil, at least. Now, to continue with our program, we ask you to materialize in our physical location. Can you cast your being or presence into this room we are located in right now, and perhaps take possession of my body, or that of one of us present here tonight?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND I WILL HAVE MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU.
Question: But can you manifest inside this room right now?
ANSWER: IN GOOD TIME. I AM RANTOR RANTIC. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU. SO MANY.
Question: Rantor Rantic, you say “in good time.” Does that mean you will materialize into my location at some time in the near future?
ANSWER: IN GOOD TIME, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH.
Question: That’s all well in good, but you seem to be stalling. Why “in good time”? Why don’t you just come here right now?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete).
(Note: Here again, Rantor Rantic vomited forth a stunning array of profane and absolutely disgusting commentary, if it could be called commentary at all. We decided to continue with the program as outlined by the dare.)
From the person who made the dare, the suggestion was made that we should ask a demon to “scare our family.” We took a break for a group discussion to consider which member of whose family we should send Rantor Rantic to scare -- I quickly volunteered a member of my own family.
I have three brothers, whom I‘ll just identify here as Brother X, Brother Y and Brother Z. Everyone present knows all three of my brothers. We held a short discussion on which of my brothers would be best to inflict a demon upon, and we were all in agreement that we should cast Rantor Rantic upon my Brother X because we all felt he was psychologically and spiritually the weakest. Thus in agreement, we went back to the Ouija Board).
Question: Rantor Rantic, we now would request that you take up whatever evil powers or abilities that you have at your disposal, and use them to scare my Brother X. My brother lives in (X location) -- is there anything more you need in terms of information or direction to go over and scare him as much as possible?
ANSWER: FOR YOUR BROTHER X AND FOR YOU I WILL (delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete).
Question: That’s some truly strong and stinging commentary -- but we will be expecting you -- and in fact, Rantor Rantic -- we now command you and urge you to visit yourself upon my Brother X, and we insist and command you to frighten him to a very severe degree. We absolutely demand that you really rattle his cage like it has never been rattled before. This we command. Will you comply?
ANSWER: I AM RANTOR RANTIC AND I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS FOR YOU, YOU SON-OF-BITCH. I HAVE MANY PLANS FOR YOU.
Question: Please work your demented plans on my Brother X right now. He’s probably asleep in his bed at this time. He’s vulnerable. Perhaps you could at least enter his dreams and give him the fright of his life. We dare you to go and give Brother X a severe nightmare. Furthermore, we will be checking on the results. We will call Brother X and see if you can put your actions where your words are, or are you all talk? Are you up for the challenge?
ANSWER: IN GOOD TIME, YOU SON-OF-BITCH. YOU AND BROTHER X WILL NEVER REST.
Question: Well, so far, you have proven that you can proclaim many shocking and repugnant statements, but I have yet to fear for my future state of comity. We are now going to take a one-hour break, during which time we will expect you to work your mischief on us, or on my Brother X, and we will be checking the results. Understood?
ANSWER: YOU ARE A BREAKAGE. YOU WILL NEVER REST.
(Note: We took a one-hour break. The time was now about an hour after midnight. We decided that at about 2 a.m., we would call my Brother X to see if he had experienced at least a nightmare, or some other scary experience. I arranged to record my phone conversation with my Brother X, and so here is the transcript of the call):
RING:
(Note: My Brother X’s wife answered the phone).
Ken: Hello, Alice (not her real name). This is Ken. Can I speak with Brother X?
(Note: I knew my Brother X’s wife would be awake even at this late hour. She’s an insomniac and usually stays up till about 4 a.m. on a regular basis).
Alice: He’s in bed asleep! You scared the s**t out of me. What’s wrong? Why are you calling so late?
Ken: I’m sorry to scare you, Alice, but we are conducting an important experiment with the Ouija Board. We really need to speak with Brother X. It might be important. He may be in danger. Can you wake him up?
Alice: Oh you (delete profanity), and your damned (deleted profanity) Ouija Board! He was at the American Legion meeting all night and had a lot to drink. I doubt he’s getting up for anything, and he has to get up early for work in the morning.
Ken: We only want to talk to him for a minute. Do me a favor and put the phone right by Brother X’s bed and let the phone keep ringing until Brother X wakes up and he answers it. It’s important.
Alice: He’s going to kill you.
Ken: Well, this is for science. It’s important. Will you put the phone by his bed?
Alice: It’s your funeral.
Ken: Thanks, Alice.
(Note: We waited five minutes and then began ringing Brother X’s phone. After about 10 minutes he finally answered).
Brother X: What!
Ken: Sorry to wake you, Brother X. This is Ken.
Brother X: What the hell do you want! What’s going on!
Ken: This is extremely important. Have you been experiencing a nightmare just now, or anything else that is strange?
Brother X: The only god--^%^%^% nightmare is going be when I drive over there and break your **&*&&^% face!
Ken: It’s 30-below-zero outside. Your car probably won’t start. But just listen to me for a minute. We contacted an entity named Rantor Rantic on the Ouija Board and ….
Brother X: I swear to God, I am going kick my foot up your ass so far, you’re going to be licking my toes until the 4th of July, and if you call one more time … I mean it, you son-of-b***h.
CLICK!
(Note: I had my call on speaker phone so all in my Ouija group could hear our conversation. Everyone began to make all kinds of wild speculations. My friend Odin, for example, pointed out how eerie is was that Brother X and threatened me and called me a son-of-a-b***h, just as Rantor Rantic had done a number of times.
The speculation was that perhaps Rantor Rantic was a few steps ahead of us, and was manipulating the whole situation. Others argued that this was ridiculous. Clearly, we had more ground to cover, and so the session continued despite the late hour.
That's it for now ...
I’ll post the next part of the session when I get some time … I apologize for the delay.
NOTE: FOR MORE TRUE STORIES PARANORMAL STORIES OF ALL KINDS, PLEASE GO TO:
I BLOG; THEREFORE, I AM
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