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True Demons; Interdimensional Horror
by
Paul Schroeder
Photo Here
Interdimensional Horror:
Part of the alarming nature of the unknown is its mysterious link
to the known. I awake each night to a lewd exhibition of the merging. I open my eyes and turn to see the digital
alarm clock, sitting on the lamp table next to my bed and see 12:12, then 1:11 am, 2:22 am, 3:33 am and then 4:44
am. This distresses me so badly upon awakening that I cannot think; just a wave of panic that SOMETHING is awaking
me, as the calculated odds of awakening each night precisely at those specific times is astronomically impossible.
The message intended seems to throw me off balance and keep me wrapped in fearful confusion and lets me know that
I am being toyed with, but yields no greater insight than to let me know that when I sleep, I wander amongst monsters
and beasties.
Sometimes after abductions, the interdimensional door left open, invites the gangster fringe element of the spirit
world; sometimes demons are thrown into the equation as spite work for attempts at thwarting abductions. But the
unseen sinister world is as real as the nose on your face.
The building called Harold Hall, since renamed, perhaps stands four stories and houses some eighty families. The
basement area is the only place I've encountered, face to face, the entity that followed me home and whom stands
gauntly by my bed at night and delivers mind-blowing dreams. It stands at the Intersection of 92 St and Fort Hamilton
Parkway, in Brooklyn not far from Shore Road, on the Narrows and abuts the old army base still there.
Fort Hamilton Army Base, I know nothing of the history of this building except that when I left, sure that anyone
who entered the basement would meet it. It seemed to have moved with me. I am straddling the fence of the twilight
zone surrounded by harassing, omnipresent, sinister, psychic, tenacious entities whose presence fills me with wonder
and indignation.
Bless you for your patience. Out of the body attacks differ from my dreams in their vivid 3d total sensory envelopment
and the inherent viciousness in provoking angst, realistic in every way as compared to consciousness. The perspective
is waking to find I am asleep wrapped in delusional thoughts and scenes, dreams so aligned with negative thoughts
that the scenarios reveal that they are imposed, by virtue of their worst scenario plots and their vividness.
They, whomever these discorporate negative thought entities are, are masters of delusions and I have recognized
the raw power of the vividness as more than my murky dream scenarios could ever muster and am convinced we are
dead wrong about the nature of dreaming. At night, your astral body travels to realms from angelic to demonic,
a spirit world of myriad vibrational levels and the pictures you see on the backs of your eyelids, while you R.E.M.,
are not dreams but visits. Souvenirs of a greater reality, like a goldfish who never suspects a greater world beyond
the ponds surface, the limited awareness of humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality; groping,
mouth agape in total ignorance.
Now that's waxing my verbal virtuosity, dramatically.
Sadly, I've only met sharks, not the porpoises, in the ocean currents of unconsciousness. Between 2 and 6 am, grounding
is essential. But how? As we struggle into consciousness, each morning, a self-erasing mechanism destroys memories
of dreams; only vague and vivid snippets remain as clues. But how many people can recall dreams that were not dreams
at all? I have recalled for hours and days afterwards, of these impositions, unlike the general amnesia accompanying
most of my dreams all of my life. I assure you that I have shockedly unlearned all Jungian and Freudian concepts
of dreams. It's only our own language's impotence, calling these dreams.
The Eskimos have myriad words for snow. We have only one for dreams that often are not dreams, which we ourselves,
generate. My experiences, in the extreme, illustrate this indigestible possibility.
Paul, God bless you for the chance to ventilate and exchange ideas in this horrid realm. Horrid, because attacks
continue and vary in intensity to the point where I have tacitly accepted all I've told you at the risk of denying
everything about the mind and dreams I've ever learned.
Description of hauntings at night:
A large black shapeless mass turns out the lights while you are in the labyrinth of mazes and hallways en route
to storage rooms. He stands in your way laughing, evilly. There is a terror and a strong wave of hatred felt. Trying
to retrace your way in the darkness back towards the elevator, hugging the walls brings air blown onto the back
of your neck. Your name is whispered in your ear and your clothing clutched and plucked at by unseen hands. The
presence is large and blacker than the darkness surrounding it; you feel a sense of being watched and sense waves
of intense hatred, which is undeniable. Flashlights fail and dim and blink out when one tries to outsmart its turning
the lights out.
The six floor apartment building a juts the Fort Hamilton Army Base, a quarter mile away and is at the virtual
foot of the Brooklyn side of the Verrazzano Bridge. I have been the superintendent of that building between 1990
and 1999 and have encountered that entity through my denial of acceptance to raw fear of it.
It has intruded into my dreams, followed me into the elevator and into my bedroom to evoke horrid worst scenario
nightmares, which betray that it knows our minds better that we do. I avoided the basement, neglected my duties
and was subsequently fired by the management office. This building stands at the intersection of 92nd Street and
Fort Hamilton pkwy, in Brooklyn, New York. The psychic attacks continue; nonetheless.
I am drowsing over the bathroom sink, half asleep and yawning, supporting myself with my arms on both sides. Still
half asleep and naked, when something brushes my face and loins, both just below the sink and just above my face.
I open my bleary eyes and see an enormous conglomeration of festooned fishhooks surrounding me, hanging from the
ceiling, across the sink, a filigree chandelier of razor sharp connected fishhooks that I've stumbled. Now, stark
naked with pinching sharp connections at my groin, lip, and face, that apprise me. Quickly panicking, now that
I've been deeply hooked in a myriad places. In to my genitals, pulling through my lip and cheek. To move backwards
in shock or panic flight, is to deeply gaff myself further.
I am attached painfully. As I lift my right arm to gently work out the razor thin fishhook, dozens of others fasten
and bite into my flesh scaring me further into desperation and deepening my angst as I awaken quickly now, to a
gathering sense of panic and helplessness. The hook in my cheek tears deeply into my mouth and the fishhooks unseen,
beneath the sink, begin to bite deeper and more painfully. I am a marionette impaled from face to scrotum and have
wandered unknowing into this macramé of razorblade like fishhooks some madman must have concocted. The slightest
movement brings sharp painful reminders that I am stuck fast and in a nightmarish predicament I cannot solve.
As I am screaming, muted for help from my wife, asleep in the other room. Opening my mouth to holler, I feel the
deeper bite of the hook into the deep muscles of my face. I can only growl and moan loudly. Aware that I won't
likely be able to reach her ears with low moaning, I feel more entrapped with every movement. Like a monstrous
wind chime of dangling fishhooks, I am trapped and my fear level climbs to near hysteria, as I awaken suddenly
in bed.
Again I am aware of the imposed horror for ethereal feasting, but dazzled at the raw power of the attack and the
totality of sensory construction and the viciousness inherent in the scenario. I am beset with demons, negative
thought entities who are malevolent and who know our minds much better than we do.
How can you fight something you can't see? This was the first of several creative virtual reality psychic attacks
delivered on this night and represent a continued program of spiritual and out of body attacks at the hands of
unseen entities who are brilliantly tenacious. The waves of sheer hatred, intense telepathic bursts of raw hatred
felt by me in the unseen presence of some of <http://www.abductions-alien.com/satan.jpg> the harassing entities
might well echo the demeanor of this clearly interdimensional creature.
True Demons:
Some time ago a friend of my wife's and a group of friends made a trip to historical sites in the Middle East.
During the tour she had a chance to visit a cave on one of the hills around the holy city of Makkah. Inside she
was attracted by a bright light perched on the cave's wall and took a picture of it.
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Website Only.
When she returned home, she developed the film and was surprised to see a picture of a creature she never saw before
in her life. She took the picture and showed it to her spiritual teacher. The Ustadzah explained that it was Satan
in one of its forms. Subhanallah! She gave my wife a copy of the picture and I scanned it for you...
Note the venation of the rock which bisects its waist like a belt; it is transparent. Again I am convinced that
since a hateful bottom spectrum of the unseen universe exists; I too, have been grabbed and shaken by demons, large,
black and strong as a bull. I have been snuck into faith by the rear door. The last sentence of the letter accompanying
this picture was; MAY ALLAH PROTECT US ALL FROM DEVILS.
The photo is authentic and perhaps the first I've ever seen of ectoplasmic interdimensional evil. Note the ears,
head, hooves and details of its physiognomy. It has been suggested by experts that this entity ALLOWED itself to
be photographed as the rarity of such photos of such clarity belies the elusiveness of these psychic mind reading
sinister entities I call demons. They are horribly real and as psychic vampires are unparalleled.
The entity that tortured me was tenacious in following me anywhere I traveled and made a point of letting me know
as soon as I was sure I'd left it behind; doors would lock when I was showering; although, I was careful to leave
all doors open. Objects would move just within immediate sight. Wild, evil dreams at nighttime let me know it was
with me despite my having traveled far. By all means, view my comments and nightmare out of body attack scenarios
as a virtual experience.
Raw prayer to my spirit helpers, to remove this dark entity, has finally produced lasting results. To date, no
horrid demonic nightmares or gray alien astral abductions. It was a virtual miracle of faith and request. The evil,
powerful, nightmare attacking, demon was removed by goodness. This is awe inspiring, transforming and enlightening.
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http://www.projectsupernatural.net/ubb/Forum3/HTML/000004.html
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