The Paranormal & Me

All my life the paranormal has always been there, and I don’t mean that I’ve been plagued by demons or anything sinister. It was never like that for me. Still, when I saw my first shadow person prior to my teen years, it scared the living daylights out of me. It manifested itself just out of the corner of my eye. It was night time in a very well-lit room. I could feel its eyes looking straight at me. That was what prompted me to look in its direction. As soon as I turned my head to meet its gaze, it vanished into thin air. Even though its presence was nothing malevolent, I was still terrified to no end. I stayed up all night, too afraid to sleep, until the sun came up the next morning.

I’ve had several encounters with shadow people throughout the years since then, but I’m no longer afraid. Unlike many people who have negative encounters with shadow people, mine are quite the opposite. I experience no malevolence at all with shadow people. It’s almost like I get a sense of observance from them. Their presence is always “split-second” when they appear, then they’re gone.

I’m also an empath. Always knew I was different, but never knew how to “label” my ability until I reached my adult years. An empath is someone who is highly sensitive (in the supernatural sense) to others’ energies and emotions. To many, this ability is often thought of as a curse. I used to think this way as well and that was only because I didn’t understand what was going on. But now it’s no longer a curse for me. Rather, I consider it a gift that I’m very proud to have.

Growing up I usually kept quiet about the paranormal, only spoke to very few about it. My selective silence was due to the judgmental fear of what others thought. I didn’t want anyone to think I was crazy. So often is the paranormal viewed by many as something that’s dark and evil. Although, that’s not necessarily the case. The paranormal realm does consist of entities that may bring forth malevolence, but so does the world of the living. There are wicked people that walk around every single day. Spirits can also be very loving and full of light. However the spirit was during their living state, is how they often are once they have passed on. Meaning, that a person can carry on the same characteristics even after death.

The study and research of paranormal activity is extremely fascinating to me. I openly embrace the unknown, but with caution. I never provoke the spiritual world. I would never recommend doing that. Don’t provoke the living and don’t provoke the dead. It’s all about respect, I believe. And just because someone finds interest in the paranormal doesn’t mean that they’re living a “dark life and going straight to hell”. That’s for the narrow minded to believe. To better understand things, one must open their mind. Knowledge is never ending. One of my all time favorite quotes is by Michelangelo. It says, “I am still learning.” … and yes, for me that even applies to the paranormal.

The House of Spirits

It was nearly eight years ago when we started looking for a house to buy. He and I decided to look at the local listings separately and whatever house we both liked with our separate searches, we would go and look at them.

Oddly, with he and I both separately looking (did not know each other’s choice), we were drawn to the same exact house. Was this particular location, with a house not even twenty years old at the time, calling out to us? Maybe, but whatever it was, we knew we had to check it out.

The land, being barely an acre, was covered by lots of big trees. This 1200 square foot house sat off the road a bit. With its four white columns in the front, the one story brick structure had a certain comforting charm about it. Huge windows that allow in all the beautiful sunshine….. Love!!

We scheduled a viewing appointment with the realtor, who ended up becoming a very dear friend…. actually, more like a family member now. (Southern charm and etiquette have their ways of bringing people closer together.)

The day was a Monday, just after Thanksgiving, when we drove out to the house. As we were nearing the property, barely entering the driveway, we began to feel an energy coming from this place. It was so inviting, which made us want to see it even more. There was a “presence” we couldn’t explain. Our younger son was with us, and he was just as eager as we were.

As we approached the house, the realtor standing there with his warm smile, welcomed us inside. Like I mentioned, the house is barely 1200 square feet so it didn’t take long to view it. The open floorplan has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The stained glass lighting fixtures in the kitchen made me squeal like a little girl because I immediately fell in love with them. That made the guys laugh at me. I told them it was a “girl thing”. Lol

The location is right outside city limits, yet close enough to everywhere and only nine miles from the beach! It’s quiet and the neighbors are awesome.

After purchasing the home, we had to do several things… paint the interior, fill in places in the sheetrock where previous residents had hung photos and other decorations on the walls… those types of things. As we did these, we could feel the presence of something otherworldly, like being observed. And occasionally, hearing and seeing things. Like one time, I was walking into the master bathroom and to my right, just in my ear (and I was home alone), I heard a male’s voice faintly say, “Hey”. I turned my head and couldn’t find anyone. Other times, shadows seen out of the corners of our eyes. A strong female presence has been felt many times, an older lady who seems to be the observer, in my opinion. And a few times recently, I have seen a man wearing a light blue checkered shirt also observing me.

However as crazy as all this sounds, nothing malevolent has ever been felt. We have paranormal investigative equipment and have conducted some sessions to communicate. Our findings have proven conclusive. We feel that our home is a transient spot for spirits to come and go. I believe our dog has even picked up on things as well because he has made certain gestures that have validated our belief. And being a psychic and Empath, I can’t discount what I “feel” and “know”.

Here are some photos of our home.

Imaginary Friends…. Make believe or something ghostly? 🤔

Excellent topic for discussion….. Imaginary friends … So many children have them…. Mindless playing with tea parties, outdoor games or just pretending to sing in front of an audience. Children letting their imaginations run wild with their sweet innocence.

And then here’s another theory …. Perhaps one that can be the premise to something other worldly.

Often, the plot of a horror film…. the subject evolves around a lonely child who may seek the attention from a playmate. The parents discount it as something lighthearted until time passes and either the child’s behavior starts to turn dark, or something sinister literally happens, which leads to ungodly acts that are blamed on the misunderstood child. And as the young one proclaims innocence, he or she is wrongfully accused and then a whole world of problems arise… Yes, we’ve all seen films like these, read about stories online or in the papers… Heard about kids in school…. etc…. etc…. The list goes on and on….

So…. Do you believe that a child’s imaginary friend could actually be a ghost, or something evil with cruel intentions waiting to happen?

Hmmm….. Ponderism… 🤔

My First Paranormal Experience

I was a small child, just barely school age when I had my first experience with the paranormal. I’ve never spoken publicly about it until now, not even at my public speaking events nor book signings have I ever brought up the incident of which I’m about to tell you. Yes, I’ve openly discussed my encounters with shadow people, being touched by spirits, my ability of being an empath and also my ability of angelic communication, but never openly discussed my first recollection of a paranormal encounter. Why? Because to many people, it may sound a bit macabre and strange.

Like I said earlier, I was a small child when it happened. A little girl all dressed up in Sunday clothes right after church services were over. The day was sunny and warm, and the church members were carrying on lighthearted conversations as they were walking out of the building. As my family conversed, my attention was oddly drawn towards the cemetery for no apparent reason, which was only a few feet away. This church was a small, country one with not a very big congregation at all. So the atmosphere was safe and there was no cause for concern as I walked towards the graves. The ground had been undisturbed for quite sometime, meaning that there had been no recent funerals to speak about. Yet, I was undeniably drawn to a particular grave for which I had no connection with. The deceased wasn’t a family member, nor a friend. In fact, the individual had been dead for many years prior to our joining the church. But as I neared the grave, I began to detect a very faint smell. It was one that I had never experienced before, quite fragrant and soft. The inviting smell drew me even closer to the peaceful plot.

Now keep in mind that no one followed me and that everyone from the church were several feet away, meaning that the scent from their perfume/cologne dissipated as I walked away from them. However, this new scent grew stronger as I approached the grave. It was so beautiful and intriguing that it made me want to investigate its origin. The headstone was void of any floral arrangements that would give plausible cause for the unexplained smell. So, I continued to let my nose lead the way which made me only inches above the ground. At this point, I was literally sniffing the Earth that was immediately below my nose. Only grass separated me from the dirt. Yet, this inconceivable fragrance had become even stronger. In my innocent mind I started seeing brief images of bones, like I was looking down into the grave below. Was I led to this spot by the deceased individual? Perhaps what I was smelling was the beautiful fragrance they wore when they were alive. Maybe the spirit of the deceased noticed my gift and wanted to connect with me.

I wanted so badly to take my little fingers and dig into the dirt so I could find out more, but was abruptly stopped upon my grandmother’s discovery. And ever since then, every time I see bones, I’m quickly reminded of the beautiful fragrance I’ve never experienced again. The incident still remains a mystery to me, a fascination that I will never forget.

~ Sheila Renee Parker

“Master, may I have another fly, please? I’m so hungry…..”

Notably known as “The Fly Man”, R. M. Renfield is a fictional character from the widely renowned horror Gothic novel, Dracula written by Bram Stoker in 1897. Under the care of Dr. Jack Seward and his insane asylum, mental patient Renfield falls victim to the alluring spell of the infamous Count Vlad Dracula. “The vampire, whose abilities include control over animals such as rats, bats and spiders, comes to Renfield with an offer: if Renfield worships him, he promises to make him immortal by providing an endless supply of insects and rats, as Renfield believes that blood is the source of life.” ~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renfield

Anyone familiar with this iconic story knows that Renfield likes to munch on insects, like a movie-goer with a tub of popcorn. *Eeeww… sorry, I had a brief shudder moment just thinking about it.* As grotesque as it sounds, according to Stoker’s famed novel, Renfield honestly did believe it gave him immortality.

Now we all know that this is not true, but there actually is a medical condition referred to as Renfield’s Syndrome. It’s also known as Clinical Vampirism which is the obsession with drinking what? BLOOD! (Insert theatrical sound effects here…. *bum bum BUMMM!!*) That’s right! The act of people really doing this is nothing made up.

“The earliest formal presentation of clinical vampirism to appear in the psychiatric literature, with the psychoanalytic interpretation of two cases, was contributed by Richard L. Vanden Bergh and John F. Kelley in 1964.[1] As the authors point out, brief and sporadic reports of blood-drinking behaviors associated with sexual pleasure have appeared in the psychiatric literature at least since 1892 with the work of Austrian forensic psychiatrist Richard von Krafft-Ebing. Many medical publications concerning clinical vampirism can be found in the literature of forensic psychiatry, with the unusual behavior reported as one of many aspects of extraordinary violent crimes.[2][3][4]” ~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clinical_vampirism

Wow! With that being said, upon doing research I discovered that those who have Renfield’s Syndrome include a variety of people. Some are happy to make public their “need to feed”, while others are extremely private about it. Even some serial killers have been known to have this blood-thirsty condition.

For example:

Richard Chase, a.k.a. “The Vampire of Sacramento” (California), killed six people in one month. He ate from their flesh and drank their blood. In December 1980, he committed suicide in his prison cell. He overdosed on the anti-depressant medication prescribed by his doctor that he had been saving up for quite some time.

Fritz Haarmann, a.k.a. “The Vampire of Hanover” (Germany), killed at least twenty-seven people. He committed many of his murders by biting through his victims’ throats. In April 1925, he was executed by guillotine. His last words? “I repent, but I do not fear death.”

Peter Kürten, a.k.a. “The Vampire of Dusseldorf” (Germany), killed at least nine people. It was reported that he drank the blood of several of his victims. In July 1931, he was executed by guillotine.

Roderrick Justin Ferrell, a sixteen year old who claimed he was Vesago, a five hundred year old vampire. He joined a group of teenagers that referred to themselves as “The Vampire Clan”. In 1998 Roderrick became the youngest person to be put on death row in the United States. He was found guilty of murdering a couple in Florida. Since his conviction, his penalty has been reduced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

And this last one….. not a serial killer, but still a very disturbing story!

James P. Riva, a.k.a. “The Schizophrenic Vampire”, a deranged individual who claimed that he was a seven hundred year old vampire. In April 1980, he stabbed his elderly grandmother in her heart and then shot her four times using bullets that he had painted gold. Prior to setting her house on fire in a poor attempt to cover up his heinous crime, he drank her blood. In 1981 James was sentenced to life in prison for second degree murder and arson in Marshfield, Massachusetts.

As fascinated as I am by the whole idea of vampirism that has been romanticized by the Gothic era and Bram Stoker’s amazing novel, Dracula, I would never justify any such act as the above mentioned by the twisted individuals that harbored such a horrific darkness in their hearts. What they did was completely unfathomable.

But…. Do I love a good vampire tale? Of course I do! I mean, come on…. I recently wrote a short story titled, My Phantom Traveler based on the lore. One of my all time fave films is The Lost Boys! Still love the grandpa in that movie, he cracks me up every time I see it! Him using Windex as aftershave when he went to see the old widow Johnson…. lol…. crazy stuff!

So, do vampires really exist or is it all just folklore? For those who have Renfield’s Syndrome, it’s pretty real to them……

Hmmm….. a little something to ponder while sinking one’s fangs into their next meal…. *thinking to myself as I run my tongue across my naturally pointy teeth.* (and yes, I’ve often been told that my pearly whites resemble those of the fanged creatures.)

Get a copy of my novel, The Spirit Within on Amazon!

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Twitter: @sheilarparker.

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Facebook: Sheila Renee Parker – Author

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

~ Art by Sheila Renee Parker available at: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/sheilarenee-parker.html

~ Sheila Renee Parker on YouTube: Sheila Renee Parker

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“My Phantom Traveler”

“Darling, Darkness, lover of mine, with my bite I’ll drink your wine. Pierce thy flesh beneath the skin and allow the flow of your sweet crimson.” ~ Sheila Renee Parker 

 

 

People call it, “Land beyond the hills.”, but not me. I call it home. Sona, Romania is where my family has lived for generations. Some as traders, some as farmers, and then there’s my father. He’s a dignitary who answers to the King. As far as my mother goes, I never got to meet her. She died during childbirth. The day I was born was the last day she took breath. My father still speaks of her often, fondly with tears in his eyes. Even though it’s been nineteen years, I know that his heart continues to beat only for her.

The evening was filled with a dusk colored sky as the sun slowly vanished behind the trees. In my carriage, I was on route to pick up my father from the castle where he was discussing politics with the King. I’ve always found the meetings to be rather boring, so every time he attended was when I’d have our driver take me out for a ride.

The air was damp from the late afternoon rain and the carriage’s wooden wheels jolted with every mud puddle they splashed. The atmosphere was soggy, and yet, there was still a certain calmness that I felt to be quite serene.

As we trailed through the woods, nearing the village, just up the distance was a figure walking ahead to the side of the road. With my parasol I knocked on the ceiling of the carriage to tell the driver to stop. My curiosity was oddly drawn to this peculiar character wearing a dirty brown, hooded robe that dragged the earth with each step that he took. It was stained with mud from the feet up. However filthy as he was, there was something undeniably alluring about this strange man.

I called out to him as the horses were coming to a stop.  “Need a ride?”

He didn’t respond and for some odd reason that bothered me.

“You, peasant!” I forcefully spoke, demanding his response.

Obviously, I had struck a nerve because he came to a halt. His pose stiffened as he raised his head, turning his face in my direction. Through the long, fallen hair in his eyes, and just past the edge of his hood, he looked at me with a savage glare in his eyes.

“What do you want?”  He growled.

“I….. I…..” I stammered to speak for he caught me off guard with his harshness.

“Ah… now you can’t speak.” He grinned heinously.

“Ma’am?” The driver interrupted. “We must be going. You’re father…”

I hushed the driver to stop and pleaded for another moment.

“Mustn’t keep your father waiting.” Toyed the hooded one.

I froze, couldn’t understand what I was doing. Normally I would have never stopped for a complete stranger, especially one so unkempt and impudent, but there was something about him that made me extremely inquisitive and I had to find out why.

“Get in!” I demanded. “We’re heading in that direction and you appear to need a ride.”

“Well, my feet are worn and I have grown tired.” He mumbled.

Without saying another word I opened the carriage door and motioned for him to come inside. He hesitated, then gathered his composure. While taking the seat across from me I warned him to keep his distance. His gaze began at my feet and his eyes eerily went all the way up my body to meet mine. He slightly shook his head as he grinned, “Can’t make any promises.”

“I’m warning you!” I urged.

“Relax.” The hooded vagrant said. There was an uneasy calm that immediately overcame me as he continued to speak. “Now, tell your driver to drive.”

Quietly, I obeyed his command and knocked on the ceiling of the carriage to do so. Suddenly, it was as if this bizarre character was in charge of me and I was no longer in control. What just happened? One minute I felt strong and then the next, I felt completely powerless.

“What’s your name?” He asked while making sure to keep his eyes locked onto mine. It was making me feel uncomfortable and regretting picking him up.

“Your name?” He asked again. His eyes darkened as they bore deeper into my soul.

“Angelika.” My lips whispered cautiously. I slowly pressed my back firmly against my seat, an attempt to get far enough away from him as I possibly could. He immediately took notice of my move and snickered. His eyes continued to stare into mine as if he were trying to figure me out, read me like an unwritten script.

And then….. “Ahhh….. “ a malefic grin stretched across his face. “Like an angel.”

“Pardon me?” I quickly responded.

This nasty, foul person leaned towards me and callously continued. “Ha! Your name. It means ‘like an angel’. Ironic, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” I snarled, advancing his lean with the same inconsiderate attitude he was giving me.

His harsh breath filled my nostrils and I could literally feel every word that he spoke on my face. “You. Me. Together in this moment. An angel and I.” He laughed. “It amuses me.”

“I’m far from being an angel.” I protested abruptly.

“Ha! Of course you are.” He added while leaning back into his seat.

Suddenly, the moment grew quiet and still with a sense of wickedness that I couldn’t overcome.

“Should you tell your driver to stop and let me off?” He quietly mouthed while watching the trees as we passed them by.

“No.” Was all I could reply. It was as if however vile this rugged character was, I didn’t want him to leave. His presence was captivating and I wanted him near. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His hair was long and dark with a certain wave about it. The straggly whiskers on his face concealed an age that I couldn’t quite collect, but that didn’t stop my inquisitiveness about him.

“Why are you looking at me?” He asked while staring out the window.

“What? I’m not.” I was too embarrassed to be honest with my response, so I sheepishly looked down at my dress, pretending to brush off road dust that obviously wasn’t there.

“Your eyes, I can feel them on me.” He smiled, slowly turning his head in my direction.

“No.” I quickly interjected, but before I could speak any further, he was across the carriage leaning his brute body into mine. Through his robe I could feel his chest muscles press against my bosom.

“You like that, don’t you?” He smiled gloriously like a victor claiming his prize.

With all my will I wanted to deny his advance, but was well aware that I physically wouldn’t be able to. He towered over me, conquering my every rejection.

“You can’t resist me.” The words whispered from his icy lips as they lingered down my neck. His breath became cold like death and yet, I still wanted him more.

I shivered from his touch. “Please!” I begged.

“Please, what? Stop?” He looked into my eyes with an enraptured darkness that continued to lure me in.

“Or would you like for me to…..?” His kissing persisted as his hands began to explore my body. He unlaced my bodice, exposing the skin beneath my dress. I had become utterly vulnerable to him as he proclaimed my innocence. He penetrated me, taking what I could no longer take back, and I loved it, every sensual moment of it! He made me feel things I had never felt before. A defeated fear that had completely disappeared. He replaced it with a voracious need that made me desire more. My legs wrapped around his waist, inviting him even deeper into me. Without hesitation he quickly obliged, causing me to moan uncontrollably.

The driver apparently heard us because he called out. “Ma’am, is everything all right?”

“Faster!” I screamed in ecstasy.

“Keep going!” My bearded flame demanded the driver.

We could feel our carriage gathering speed which only intensified the atmosphere. Our mood became more fierce, more sensual and totally adulterated. His carnal spell had me undoubtedly under his control and we were making love like two wild beasts. It was erotic in every sense of the word.

His kisses became harder and more fervent. I could feel the sharpness of his teeth as he nibbled my neck. There was pain, slightly, but with an invitation that tingled with anticipation. I gladly exposed my neck even more, welcoming him to take me.

With his deep voice he softly spoke. “Darling, Darkness, lover of mine, with my bite I’ll drink your wine. Pierce thy flesh beneath the skin and allow the flow of your sweet crimson.”

And it was in that exact, beautiful moment that I could feel my old life end and a new one begin. Confidence, elegance and even arrogance brought on with strength, wisdom and power was immediately bestowed upon me. Was I still under his spell or were my eyes finally opened to a reality unveiled? What had this stranger done to me?

I looked deep into his eyes for answers. “Who are you?” I begged to know.

With a charming smile he replied. “To some a monster, to many a prince, but to you, my love…. “ He quietly paused. “I am Vlad.”

I gasped in disbelief. And just like that he was gone, vanished from the presence before me. His hooded robe, his smell, his very essence were all gone within an instant. I sat there in that vacant moment, clutching my disheveled dress, questioning the mere validity of my sanity. Was it all simply a dream? I quivered at the thought.

We drove a ways down the road. The streets were becoming brighter as the light from the lanterns illuminated the impending night. We were entering the village where my father was. When we arrived at the castle, the carriage came to a stop and I found myself not being able to move. I sat there with my head against the seat, asking myself, “Did I really spend the evening with a man named Vlad?” And if so, how did he vanish into thin air?

Then I thought, “Vlad the Impaler?! Prince of Darkness?!” But that was impossible because he died almost a century ago and the legend of him being a vampire was merely just that…. a legend. Right?!

The driver opening the carriage door suddenly broke my confused concentration. “Ma’am?”

“Huh? Ah, yes.” I quietly said while taking his hand as he lead me outside.

“Where’s the gentleman that we picked up?” He asked, looking throughout the carriage.

I couldn’t answer him. All I could do was shake my head while stumbling for the words.

Then, the immediate shock on the driver’s face as he looked at me. His eyes trembled with fear. “Your neck!”

“What do you mean?” I asked him while reaching for my neck with my left hand. It was wet and warm. Puzzled, I looked down at my fingertips. They were covered with blood, my blood. I could feel the bite mark where my dark lover had bitten me. I smiled because that was the confirmation that I needed for it wasn’t just a dream, it was definitely a reality. A beguiling one shared intimately with my phantom traveler.

 

 

 

 

Get a copy of my novel, The Spirit Within on Amazon!

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Twitter: @sheilarparker.

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Facebook: Sheila Renee Parker – Author

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

~ Art by Sheila Renee Parker available at: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/sheilarenee-parker.html

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hellhounds: Such Naughty Lil’ Pooches

Popularly known as “The Bearers of Death”. These mangled, black furred, dog-like beasts have existed in legends for centuries. They’re reported to be supernatural in nature and possess ghostly characteristics with a foul odor. They’re also known to terrorize their victims with their gnarling sharp teeth and razor claws. They have red glowing eyes, super strength and speed, and may even have a fiery appearance with hellish abilities.

According to European folklore, many have claimed that if a person stares into a hellhound’s eyes three or more times, or hear its terrifying howl, it could be an omen or possibly the cause of that individual’s death.

These naughty little pooches’ purpose? Often, to protect the entrances to the realms of those who have passed on, like burial grounds and cemeteries. The nefarious beasts may be responsible for other ghastly duties like protecting unearthly treasure and/or hunting the souls of the lost.

The tale of these ferocious creatures is well-known throughout Great Britain. The Isle of Man has their own version referred to as “Moddey Dhoo. Wales has their’s known as “Gwyllgi”. The “Cadejo”, according to Central American folklore, is a large black canine that haunts those who walk late into the night on country roads.

As stated earlier, hellhounds are referred to as “The Bearers of Death”. These creatures were given this title because it was alleged that they were created by ancient demons to serve as heralds of death. Sightings have been documented all throughout history, including locations within the United States: Louisiana, Kentucky, Connecticut, Hawaii, Ohio and then even abroad in Vilseck, Germany. The hellhound known as “Black Shuck” roams the Norfolk, Essex and Suffolk coastline of England. It has been seen lurking around graveyards, dark forests and crossroads. According to Catalan myth, their version of the foreboding beast is referred to as “Dip”: The Devil’s emissary who sucks its victim’s blood.

Just a few years ago the London-Based archaeology group, DigVentures discovered the skeleton of a gigantic dog from a shallow grave less than two feet deep in the ruins of Leiston Abbey, Suffolk. According to the archaeologists, they stated that the dog’s height was more than seven feet on its rear legs and weighed around 200 pounds. The DigVentures team believes that the skeletal remains likely date back to medieval times. It is possible that the canine was a rather large hunting dog and perhaps possibly the initial spark that created the legend of “Black Shuck”.

So, makes one wonder doesn’t it? Do nefarious creatures like the demonic hellhound really exist? Or are they the product of superstitious minds who possess wild imaginations?

A little something to think about while sitting alone in a slightly dimmed room on a dark and stormy night. And don’t worry if you hear slight scratching on the window beside you. It’s probably just the wind blowing a tree limb that’s causing the noise, or…. maybe it’s not….. perhaps it’s a hellhound trying to claw its way in……… 😉 ***HOWLS!!!***

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

~ Art by Sheila Renee Parker available at: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/sheilarenee-parker.html

~ Sheila Renee Parker on YouTube: Sheila Renee Parker

Monsters: Real or??

Yes, monsters are definitely real! Now, I’m not talking about fictional ones like Grendel in the epic poem, Beowulf, or even H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu in The Call of Cthulhu. But then again, who’s to say that they weren’t inspired by real monsters. I am a strong believer that there is a basis for everything, including fictional things. It just all depends on each individual’s perspective.

On occasion while doing paranormal talks or being the guest on radio shows, I’ve been asked what’s the most frightening thing I’ve ever encountered, and my answer has always been this…. I have experienced many things regarding the paranormal from seeing shadow figures, visions in my mind’s eye, being touched by apparitions, hearing unexplained sounds, smelling unexplained odors/fragrances and being able to “feel” things with my empathic ability. But, with all that being said, and I’ve had some pretty freaky experiences, none of that has ever compared to the real monsters that exist out there in the real world.

I’m referring to the ones that we all have seen on the six o’clock news. The vile, heartless individuals that prey on the weak and the innocent. The ones who live double lives and show completely no remorse for their despicable actions. The rapists, the murderers, etc….. The ones who are our neighbors that, while out tending to their flower gardens, smile and wave to us as we drive by.

Many are prominent figures in society. One that comes to mind is Dennis Rader, a.k.a the “BTK Killer”, a serial killer convicted of murdering ten people. He was an active member in his church and a Cub Scout leader. Knowing that alone gives me chills!

Then, there was the charismatic Ted Bundy, another serial killer who kidnapped, raped, and murdered many young ladies during the 1970s. It terrifies me that so many fell victim because of his “good looks and charm”.

And the above are just a couple of the countless murderers throughout history. Other ones are political figures and leaders such as Hitler and Stalin. Not to mention certain religious dignitaries that have been convicted of sex crimes against members of their own churches.

What about the disgusting news reports regarding child care and/or nursing home providers who neglect and/or abuse loved ones…. or even rape them…. the ones they’ve been entrusted to care for.

It’s people like these so-called “human beings”  who are the ones that I’m referring to when I say that monsters are definitely real. Anyone with a heart wouldn’t dare do the horrific acts executed by these blackened souls.

Now, I can go on and on, but I choose not to. I refuse to give these monsters the notoriety that many of them seek, for whatever selfish reasons they may have or had. That’s the reason why I cannot stand to turn on the car radio in the morning to listen to a broadcast on the way to work, or watch the evening news. So much negativity is out there, it’s draining! That’s why I try so hard to constantly spread positive vibes, in hopes to brighten people…. not bring them down.  I’ve actually been criticized for being “too bubbly”. That cracked me up because my cheerful disposition literally ticked someone off. My response? “Oh well!” … lol ….

Anywho…. not ranting here, but just wanted to get that out there. Yes, I do believe in monsters. However, that’s why when I’m asked what’s the most frightening paranormal thing I’ve ever encountered was? I always answer that the most frightening thing I’ve ever encountered was from the living, not the dead. I don’t fear the paranormal, only the human “monsters” that are seen, and often go unnoticed for their crimes in our society.

 

 

 

 

CSParkerJewelry on Etsy! https://www.etsy.com/shop/CSParkerJewelry  (Handmade Jewelry. Natural Stones. Glass Beads.)

Get a copy of my novel, The Spirit Within on Amazon!

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Twitter: @sheilarparker.

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Facebook: Sheila Renee Parker – Author

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

~ Art by Sheila Renee Parker available at: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/sheilarenee-parker.html

~ Sheila Renee Parker on YouTube: Sheila Renee Parker

 

 

 

 

“The Portal”

“The Portal” ~ by Sheila Renee Parker

 

One, two….. the Demon’s waiting for you.

Three, four….. inside the Ouija Board.

Five, six…. to play his evil tricks.

Seven, eight….. away from Heaven’s gate.

Nine, ten…. don’t let the bastard win. .

 

 

 

 

Ouija Boards, or any kind of spirit boards for that matter, are something that many of you know that I am strongly against. I wish that toy companies wouldn’t market and distribute them as mere play things. Misinformed people so often think that there’s nothing to it, that it’s “all just a game”. Oh, how wrong they are……

 

Here’s a poem that I wrote based on my own experience with the nefarious Ouija. It’s been a while since I shared it with you, hope you enjoy reading it! And please, if any of you have had any kind of experience with spirit boards, don’t be afraid to share. Would love to hear about it!

 

 

 

 

“A Board Known As The Ouija” ~ by Sheila Renee Parker

The night was calm, dark and still. To this day, I remember it extremely well. However, many a year ago, it was a Saturday, a horror story of bold. Two other girls and I, together we were three, collected around a board known as the Ouija. Slowly, we placed our fingertips upon a small piece of wood called the planchette, dreading impending moments of regret, with fears of memories we wouldn’t forget.

With bated breath we deeply inhaled, then proceeded to ask things in great detail. For with the hereafter we wanted to converse, in a series of questions that were unrehearsed, like “is there anyone here?” and “how did you die?”. Then seconds later we got a reply. As scary as it was we were told “yes”. One simple word that made us become speechless. For we weren’t the ones who had replied, it was quite obvious by the fear in our eyes.

We continued with questions of more and we were answered with terror galore. With whom we had reached from the other side, was trying to come through with nothing to hide. Their answers were clear and their actions then too, for they were knocking over candles in the adjoining room. A room unoccupied with only a dim glow except for the entity’s unwanted show. Their presence was felt with heavy intent and we three girls were starting to resent unleashing this darkness that wasn’t fervent.

We stopped that night all due to fright and quickly put the board away locked up and tight. Our hearts raced without skipping a beat from what we had just witnessed that made the facts concrete. And even though it’s been so many years since that night with the swelling of tears, never again in front of me has there ever been another board known as the Ouija.

 

(A poem by Sheila Renee Parker inspired by one of her actual                                                                         paranormal experiences.)

 

 

 

 

Get a copy of my novel, The Spirit Within on Amazon!

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Twitter: @sheilarparker.

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Facebook: Sheila Renee Parker – Author

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

~ Art by Sheila Renee Parker available at: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/sheilarenee-parker.html

~ Sheila Renee Parker on YouTube: Sheila Renee Parker

~ Sheila Renee Parker, “co-co-host” on The Calling @ https://www.thecallingradioshow.com/

and tune into us LIVE on The Calling every Wednesday night at 7 p.m. CST – 8 p.m. CST and join in the free chatroom at www.para-x.com!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The Change”

“POW!”

The loud sound of gunfire exploded just feet away from my head causing my eyes to pop wide open. Panic stricken, I immediately jumped to my feet.

“Ma’am, are you ok?” The rifle toting man frantically asked.

“Huh? What?!” I spat the words out as my heart raced with fear. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”

“You were being attacked.” He continued while oddly looking my body over as if he was checking for something.

I shrugged him off with a harsh, scowled expression. “Get off me!”

“Hey, I was only tryin’ to help!” He abruptly growled back.

“Huh?” The confusion was still running rampant through my brain, but then a brief second of clarity began to occur. The night was pitch black, so black that even the moonlight couldn’t be seen through the thick cover of trees. I honestly couldn’t even see me waving my own hand in front of my eyes.

Then suddenly, my estranged hero started snapping his fingers in a rude attempt to get my attention. “Hey!” He exclaimed.

“What?” I shouted back.

“Look around you!” He yelled while shining his flashlight throughout the woods like a deranged lunatic.

“What the hell are you…….” My voice trailed off with a weakened tone as I started to see what he was referring to.

In my stunned state I had become paralyzed with fear. For what I had seen before me, in the flashed glimpses of his light, was the vanishing of ravenous creatures scurrying away. Their bellowed groans diminished into the air along with the foul stench that wreaked of rotting flesh from their bones.

I freaked, “What are those??!!”

“Calm down.” The hunter said.

“How can you tell me to calm down?” The tears welled my eyes and rushed down my cheeks like a busted dam had given way.

“Take a breath. Are you all right?” He added.

“I dunno, I guess so.” I began to feel my body, checking to make sure that everything was still intact. However, I did feel some soreness, maybe bruising in my lower back on the right side, but I wasn’t about to tell him about it. There was absolutely no way I was going to let some creeper lift up my shirt, even if it was to help me. His rough, unkempt appearance made me feel uncomfortable enough as it was. So, I casually lowered the bottom of my shirt and pretended that everything was ok.

“What’s a girl like you doing out here?” He asked, twitching around towards every little sound amongst the trees. His trigger happy self was armed and ready to fire again.

With a shameful tone I answered, “I’m homeless.”

“Homeless?” His annoying questions continued as he finally took notice of my make-shift campsite not far behind me.

“Yeah, had it out with my folks. Haven’t seen them in months. I guess with all the sleepless nights I’ve been having, that I finally passed out hard enough and didn’t even realize I was being attacked. Or maybe it was the drunk induced coma…. who knows? Or better yet…. who cares?” I spewed the words out with pure sarcasm. The harsh taste of last night’s whiskey still lingered on my lips.

“Ya know, you’re pretty nosy for an old man.” I snapped.

“Whatever, I gotcha. None of my business.” He backed off with his hands waving in the air.

Then, it was my turn to quiz him like he did me. “What’s your story? Why ya out here in the middle of the night carrying around a gun? Who goes huntin’ this late?”

“I’m a hunter.” He boastfully replied.

“Well, duh… I can see that.” I scoffed.

“Uh huh…..” He paused, looking around, guarded as if waiting for those vile creatures to return. “Those damned things. Whatever the hell they are. I hunt them.”

“Zombies?” The word blurted from my lips before I had a chance to even rationally think about what I was about to say. Suddenly, I felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over me because I knew that mentioning anything so bizarre was completely and totally insane.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” He quickly answered, still looking around, paranoid with every twitching sound. His trigger happy finger on his gun continued to be ready and waiting upon command.

“Wait! No way!! Zombies don’t exist.” I joked, but then was quickly reminded of the sharp pain in my back as it throbbed like that of a nagging toothache. And then, a disturbing thought popped into my head. One so horrifying that I wouldn’t dare speak about it to the hunter. The nightmarish possibility that what if when I was being attacked, I was actually bitten by one of those gruesome things? It was at that moment that I discovered the intensity of the wound on my back. As discreet as I was trying to be, the hunter took notice of my sudden behavior.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He glared.

“Nah, I’m good. Just an itch.” Quickly I brushed it off.

“Uh huh… don’t be such a lady and let me take a look then.” The old man stepped towards me, shining his flashlight at my waistline.

“I sure as hell ain’t no lady, and I swear if you take one step closer, I’m gonna take you out at the knee. Trust me, old man, I know how to take care of myself.” Moving three to four steps back, I stiffened up, ready for my defense.

“Ok, whatever. I don’t give a damn anyway.” He said as he backed away. And as he stepped back, a stick snapped under his foot. Somehow he lost his balance and fell to the ground. When he did, he caught himself, but while landing he scraped his hand, exposing the raw flesh just beneath the skin’s surface.

“Son of a…..” He mumbled.

Then, all of a sudden, I caught the sweet scent of something. It was something I had never smelled before, something sweet like nectar. I raised my head, sniffing the air around me trying to catch wind of it again. But the higher my nose got, the more faint the desirable smell became. Confused, I began to look around for its origin. My mood was changing and the feeling of emptiness started to take over in my stomach. Hunger was beginning to consume me at an exceedingly rapid pace. My stomach growled with a pain that was so intense that it needed immediate satisfaction. It was growling extremely uncontrollably and the need of fulfillment was urgent. My senses were sharpening, my vision and hearing, and my movements twitched. Something was happening, something terrifying!

“Hey, you all right?” The fallen hunter asked. He looked up at me with a puzzled look on his face, well aware of my odd behavior.

“Yeah, I feel just fine.” A malicious grin slowly formed across my face. As I spoke those words, I began to feel a nefarious sense engulf me. It permeated from the spot on my back and grew stronger as it coursed through my veins. Was it happening? Did those creatures pierce my skin with their razor-like teeth? I felt as if I was changing into one of them. The sense of being predator was exhilarating and the sudden urge to hunt was dire. I needed to feed.

And that was when it hit me. I looked down at the injured man on the ground. His scraped hand was bleeding….. ahhhh…. the sweet smell of nectar!

Our eyes locked and we both knew of the imminent danger that he was in. Obviously, his mounted years of being an experienced hunter paid off because he knew with whom he was dealing. The fierce change had been rapid for me. I had just been born into this ravenous world where rage devoured my soul and hunger had taken over. My nostrils flared and my heart raced, pulsating with every beat. I was ready to pounce him and tear him flesh from bone.

“Now, Miss…. ya ain’t gotta do this….” The rough man pleaded. He tried scurrying back while reaching for the long handled blade that was tucked away in his boot, but wasn’t quick enough for my unbridled advance.

In an instant, I was straddling on top of him, pinning his arms down with my legs. He struggled as hard as he could, even spat in my face and called me some “not so kind”names, but he still couldn’t break free. I suppose that with this new change of mine, came an insurmountable strength that I would have to get use to. Whatever it was, I liked it!

“Now, now, now…. I thought you were big, bad and tough.” I playfully teased, leaning in just inches from his face, so close that our breath intertwined. Anger filled his eyes as he gritted his teeth. Tension thickened between us as the heavy moment in time felt like an eternity. I was waiting for the right moment, almost like toying with my prey. It felt so good, almost orgasmic. Then, without warning, the bastard head butted me, busting my nose. The blood automatically started to flow down into my mouth.

“Mmmmm……” I licked it from my top lip. Tasting my own nectar caused the rage to intensify as it surged throughout my entire body. I reared back and bellowed out a wicked howl, then glared into the frightened eyes of my weakened victim. Terror covered him like a fear filled blanket. His lips trembled and his eyes welled while he cried out, “NOOOO!!!!”

I quickly lunged into him with razor-sharp teeth, piercing the warm, soft flesh of his neck like a hot knife cutting into butter. His blood flowed so sweetly into my mouth like the finest glass of merlot. From there, I began to nibble, then taking full bites to satisfy my insatiable hunger. I could feel his dying body convulse between my legs as I devoured him down to the last fiber of his being.

Finally, the hunter had become the hunted…..

 

 

 

 

CSParkerJewelry on Etsy! https://www.etsy.com/shop/CSParkerJewelry  (Handmade Jewelry. Natural Stones. Glass Beads.)

Get a copy of my novel, The Spirit Within on Amazon!

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Twitter: @sheilarparker.

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Facebook: Sheila Renee Parker – Author

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

~ Art by Sheila Renee Parker available at: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/sheilarenee-parker.html

~ Sheila Renee Parker on YouTube: Sheila Renee Parker