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Guardian (Part IV - Chase)
One of the more dramatic aspects of living in the Pacific Northwest is the weather. Here in Washington State, I have seen it literally rain in the front yard, and be sunny in the back. We can trudge through several weeks of nothing but cloudy, gloomy days, with seemingly endless grey, but enjoy the lushest greenest summers I've ever known. Growing up, one of my favourite things was going to bed when the rain was pounding down on the roof, lulling me to sleep.
One night the rain came down in heavy waves, thundering on the house. Tired, I went upstairs to Sis's room and got in bed, curling up and listening to the rain hit the roof above me. My eyes closed as I relaxed, feeling toasty warm and soothed by the sound of that rain. All concerns about the Guardian were forgotten as I drifted closer into sleep. After a few minutes, however, I became aware of another sound above the sound of rain. An odd crackling noise, as though electricity were sparking freely nearby. I opened my eyes and listened more intently, looking for the source of this noise. I had left the ceiling light on. Living with a less-than-pleasant entity made me avoid the dark.
One of the manifestations I experience when in the presence of entities is a feeling of pressure on my skin. This usually affects my face and hands the most, but it is not restricted to those areas of my body. It's very difficult to describe to other people - it's as though the air around me grows thicker, somehow, heavier in pressure, which then presses upon me. As I lay there, still warm and comfortable, watching the wall where I had determined the crackling sound to be, a wave of pressure pushed at me. I didn't HEAR anything, but I had no doubt that something was saying to me, "Go downstairs."
I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and the phone rang. I picked it up, and found a mutual friend ("Mike") of ours was calling. I said to Mike, "I'm so glad you called - the weirdest thing just happened to me." CC was home; she picked up the downstairs extension, and all three of us began talking. I sat there and spoke for several minutes, nearly forgetting about the odd incident earlier, but still being watchful and alert. The crackling sound was continuing in the wall. It had to have been rather loud for me to hear it; the driving rain was still drowning out other sounds through the house.
"GO DOWNSTAIRS. NOW." Stronger than before, the pressure and sense of words hit me a second time. Becoming alarmed, I said, "I'm gonna hang up now, and go downstairs." Doing so, I stood up and grabbed my jeans, putting them on. I then gathered up my shoes, a book, and my cigarettes, all the while being slowly encased by an increasing sense of pressure. Frightened now, I began talking aloud in an effort to remain calm, "I'm GOING downstairs, really! I just have to get my stuff, my cigarettes and shoes and book, just let me get this stuff and then I'm going downstairs." The sense of danger, of malice, of anger began to hit me in waves, pushing insistently on my back, along with the power of those silent yet heard words, "GO! GO! GO! GO!" hit me over and over again. Finally, I had all my things clutched in my left arm, and I started to move towards the stairs.
The stairs were at the OPPOSITE end of the large room.
I didn't run; not quite. I remember that very clearly, that I wasn't running, but I did walk as fast as I could manage. The beats of pressure hitting me from behind helped propel me, I'm sure. It was one of the longest walks of my life, that rush to the stairs. Finally, FINALLY I reached them. Still holding my shoes, book and cigarettes in my left arm and hand, which was pressed tightly to my chest, I reached out with my right and clutched the hand rail in a desperate grip. I still wasn't running when I got to that rail, but I was moving fast enough to swing myself around to the stairs, never touching the top few steps.
As I started racing down the stairs, the sense of pressure stopped, but another one began. THERE WAS SOMETHING ON THE RAILING. Talons gripped the railing. Large talons. I had a sense of a large body, covered in scales, and a long neck, with a birdlike head. The head moved to follow me as I rounded that railing and landed on the 3rd or 4th step to begin my descent of the stairs. It's beak was inches from my face. It WANTED me to look. It willed me to look, to just turn my face a little to the right, to just take a quick glance upwards to see it's terrible face.
I didn't look, but I nearly broke under the strain of those two overwhelming desires to get downstairs as rapidly as possible, and to take just one LITTLE look over my shoulder. I don't know how I managed to avoid the latter; I still believe to this day that the way I kept sane was by chanting CC's name over and over again as I continued down the remaining steps. Once to the door, I kicked it open, and was out of there at last. As I rushed into the living room, CC looked up at me (she was still on the phone with Mike) and saw my face was white. I was incoherent with terror. Nothing followed me downstairs. I now believe that the crackling sound I had heard just prior to the 'chase' was from the entity as it gathered energy to manifest.
I stopped going upstairs after that incident. I never slept in Sis's room again, and eventually ended up only sleeping on the loveseat in the living room. Besides the incident itself, one of the most disturbing things about this particular experience was in not remembering that Sis was also there, and also saw me when I came into the living room. To this day, I do not recall Sis being there, have no memory of her being there at that time at all...-Webmaster.
End Part IV
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Epilogue
