About 3 a.m., as I was walking down the road near the House in Patriot, I suddenly saw an accident on the road in front of me. I approached the scene with the intention of passing it, but I stopped to see if anyone had been seriously hurt.

One car had struck what appeared to be a large van and an injured person was in each vehicle. Through a window of the van I could see someone lying on a bed and I spoke to that person. He told me he was injured and was waiting for someone to come and help.

Some other people, who weren't medical professionals, were helping the injured people while they waited for an ambulance to come. The van was going to be driven to town after the ambulance arrived, but a driver was needed. Finally one of the injured people asked me if I would be good enough to drive the van into town for them.

I didn't want to go into town and I asked them how I would return if I were to drive to town. They said a neighbor who lived across the street would bring me back. I thought it would probably be 5 or 6 a.m. before I would actually be able to return. But I felt I should be a good Samaritan and I decided to drive the van.

When I climbed behind the wheel, I realized the van was rather complicated. It had a large stick shift and was difficult to drive. I thought I would be able to manage it, but I hoped I wouldn't drive off the road. I began driving in the direction of Gallipolis. I had a little trouble at first but then managed fine. Finally someone else took over the driving for a while and I walked into the van's back, which resembled a large kitchen.

Other people were in the room. On the floor right in my way were several boxes of bottles of wine. I wasn't interested in drinking any of the wine and I was even rather disgusted at seeing it here. Someone asked me if I would put the wine into a closet. I asked one of the men here, who seemed to be in charge, if he would help me and he refused. That made me angry and I was just going to let it sit there. But finally I began picking up the boxes and throwing them into the closet.

I noticed a top-loading dishwasher in the room, looked into it and saw it was empty except for the blades at the bottom and some ice. I began taking some of the bottles of wine out of the boxes and slamming them into the ice in the dishwasher. The bottles didn't break and they began piling up. Finally I turned the dishwasher on and the bottles began clanging and breaking in the dishwasher.

The glass, wine and ice mixed together as they might in a blender. The blades continued spinning around until all the contents of the dishwasher were thoroughly blended. The resulting substance resembled icy slush. I wondered if the glass slivers in the concoction would hurt someone if they were to eat it, but I had the feeling the glass was probably ground up so fine it wouldn't injure anyone. Some people began sticking their fingers into the mixture and tasting it. Apparently it was quite good. I didn't want to have anything alcoholic and I didn't taste the concoction.

The injured man in the van began telling me we were going to a place near the Gallia County fairgrounds where some kind of cult resided. Someone began describing the place and I envisioned large, wooden buildings beautifully and intricately designed which covered the side of a hill.

I was suspicious of the cult's nature but thought at least the buildings could certainly be put to good use. Someone described some small hutches on the side of the hill where the cult members lived and I likewise envisioned them. The hutches were only about a half meter high and barely had space enough for someone to crawl inside and lie down. Apparently the cult's devotees lived in these small structures.

I suddenly realized the hutches had been constructed on atop a cemetery and stood on top of graves. The person describing the area to me explained that the structures had been placed over graves so people living in the structures could be near loved ones who had died. They felt as if they could embrace one another there. The idea seemed rather eerie and macabre to me.

As the area was being described, I realized I was actually standing in front of it. A short, Japanese man walked up and stood next to me. I had the feeling most of the cult members were Japanese. The man next to me turned out to be a tourist who had simply come to see the cult. I put my arm around his shoulder, asked him what he thought about the whole thing and he agreed with me that it seemed rather eerie.

I asked him if the cult had a Japanese origin. He said that it was Japanese in origin, but that he couldn't explain it any better than I.

I walked into one of the buildings and found the man who hadn't helped me earlier with the wine bottles and I realized he was actually the leader of the cult. I recognized him as a man I had seen on a religious program on television and who had struck me as being phony. He was only about 40 years old, but already had a white beard. He wore a hat and dressed unconventionally. Many people probably thrived on the kind of unconventionality which he projected.

He walked into the next room and someone said the man was going to check his mail. He supported his cult by means of contributions which he received from television viewers of his religious programs. I heard him reading one letter from a woman who was impressed with him. She had been unable to relate well to other preachers, but she had related well to him.

I almost felt like an investigative reporter and I wanted to discover the exact nature of the organization. A female (likewise intrigued by the situation) and I walked out into a hallway and began walking down a narrow passageway. We finally reached a room with an open door and walked through. A woman in the room immediately told us to leave. I realized the woman was somebody important and I wanted to ask her some questions. But the woman who had come in with me distracted my attention for a moment. I looked away from the lady I wanted to question and when I looked back, I discovered she had slipped into a closet. When I looked back at my companion I found she likewise had disappeared into a closet.

I began opening closet doors, but finding no one inside, I suddenly realized the closet doors actually led to secret passageways. As I pushed on the closet doors I realized they were made of cardboard. Even the walls of the room seemed to be made of cardboard and they suddenly began collapsing about me.

As the room fell down around me, I walked past one of the walls into what appeared to be a gymnasium. My female companion again appeared at my side. We looked around and discovered about 100 people doing aerobic dance routines. I realized they were the cult members.

They were mostly young ordinary white people. They were all moving in synchronization and obviously knew why I was here.

I was determined by now to learn what was going on here. But I was also apprehensive because these people could possibly attack my companion and me and kill us. I made some kind of statement about other people knowing I was here and I said something about cameras.

I began walking around the room and watching the people as they moved. I didn't hear any music. I began looking into the eyes of some girls and of some men and I decided I needed to talk with someone to try to get to the bottom of the situation. I began moving somewhat in the way they were moving to put myself somewhat in synchronization with them. I realized they probably weren't going to try to harm me. I looked out over the room, told them I was going to leave and added, "But that's not enough. I'm going to take one of you with me."

I looked around and said, "I want one of you who can tell us about what's really going on here."

One girl walked over to me and said a woman wasn't far from us who might be willing to help me. I walked in the direction where the woman was supposed to be, soon found a cluster of women bunched together and scrutinized their faces. The women began moving away from each other and their movements reminded me of an unfolding flower. At the center of the flower stood an exquisitely beautiful woman.

Someone said, "That's Manya."

They said she was a Russian. She was probably about 20  years old and reminded me of the actress Natasha Kinski. She also reminded me of someone else I had known in my life and who had been close to me. She was dressed in an elegant, theatrical, dance costume, had black hair and seemed to be the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She was physically beautiful but it wasn't her physical beauty which attracted me. She simply exuded a natural beauty.

I walked up to her and said, "You're the one."

She began backing away from me. She seemed alert and aware but she didn't look me in the eye. Instead her eyes seemed to dance to the side.

I had the feeling she had immigrated to the United States form Russia and had probably been recruited into the cult without really knowing what was going on due to her unfamiliarity with the culture. Like most of the people here, she had probably been brainwashed.

Finally I cornered her and pulled her close to me. I held her as I would hold someone to waltz with and we began waltzing around the room.

I was mesmerized by her. I knew I needed to take her out of here and learn as much as I could from her.

She was an excellent dancer and I was dancing quite well myself as we glided waltzing about the room. We immediately seemed to click together. It was the most pleasurable experience I could remember having ever had.

I asked her if she would leave with me. I asked, "Are you ready?"

She answered, "Well, I suppose I am."

I was extremely attracted to her. I was no longer simply trying to get her out of here to obtain a good story - I now had personal reasons for wanting her to go with me.

I didn't think I was going to have a great deal of trouble leaving with her.