“Our Night at the Myrtles Plantation”

Our night at the Myrtles Plantation

(***A true paranormal encounter experienced by paranormal investigators, Lori and Brian Davies of NWA Ghost Connection.***)

 

 

John Winters Room

3 p.m. check in, we arrived at 2 p.m. anxious to get there and excited about crossing off a bucket list item. Brian bought me a night at the Myrtles for my 50th birthday gift. He knew it was on a list of things I wanted to do since I was nineteen. We purchased some things in the gift shop and checked in. We were taken to the house to see our room and my gift kicks in as the door opens. At the top of the stairs I was greeted by a woman who appeared to be in mourning. She was in a black dress with a veil coming down over her face. I was taken a back by her but proceeded up the large staircase that led into the house to our room. The young lady who showed us to our room politely stated all the rules of the house and then opened our door and handed Brian the keys. Our night began.

We walked in and acquainted ourselves with the room, all the while this woman standing in our doorway. I asked Brian if he had seen or sensed anything. He said how weird it was, the water started dripping in the tub and he tried to turn the water off, but it was tightly off (weird). We had a quick, odd moment and he left to go get our luggage for the night. I sat in the chair in the corner watching her and when alone I asked her what her name was and she replied, “Sara M Bradford”, and then walked in a little girl who stood along side her in a pretty, little blue dress and blondish-brown hair. I assumed had some relation to her, but the child wouldn’t speak to me. 

I heard a commotion in the hall and stuck my head out when I encountered another employee of the Myrtles and I asked her if I could ask her a question, she replied sure and came into the room. I then asked her if she had heard of this Sara or knew of her or was my being a medium allowing everyone to come through. She took two steps back and asked me, Sara? I replied, yes, she is standing right there pointing towards the door, she said her name was Sara M Bradford. The lady looked at me and smiled and said you are the first one who has called her that. I responded, called her what, Sara? She said no, calling her by her maiden name, Bradford. The employee then said her name was Sara Matilda Bradford Woodruff and her father built the Myrtles. 

After some light conversation she invited me to do a private tour, with me being a physical medium she wanted me to walk the home and tell them what I could see and hear along with feel. I agreed because I was curious about her story and why she was so sad. As the night went on I ended up hurting my knee and had a difficult time walking, so of course I couldn’t walk the house and I wonder to this very day if that was the plan the whole time. During the night in our room the curtain continuously moved on just one side, the chandelier rotated back and forth and then my fan got knocked over against the wall which created a level of uneasiness. At this time I pulled out our infrared camera and began to take pictures and, what do you know, there she was in all her glory. My husband ran downstairs to talk to the tour guide and showed her the photo and, what do you know, she identified her as Sara. 

They were so excited to see this photo and sad I could not do my private walk and as they were all looking at this photo I took I was settling in to sleep because I was in pain from my knee. Brian came back up and we took several videos of the excitement in our room and then decided to sleep so I could rest before the long drive home. Well, the night was crazy as around 2 a.m. I saw a man at the foot of our bed dressed in confederate attire and just starring at me. I was unnerved and asked him what he wanted, which was when I began to taste blood and have stomach issues and he pointed at the wall and disappeared, well…..that was interesting, and the footsteps and humming I heard all night made it difficult to sleep. 

As day break rose, I was seriously done at this point and Brian woke up and I needed to leave, with all the energies in that home, lack of sleep, hurt knee, I think I had seen enough of the house for this trip. I have since promised to go back to walk the house for the woman and send them a copy of my photo so they can share my night with Sara. All I could gather from her was how sad she was for all her loss of children, father, and husband. She just did not get to live how she wanted. The humming was from the room we stayed in which was the old nursery, go figure… all in all, it was a sleepless night, but I do recommend the stay just for the interaction with the spirit world. The John Winters room was definitely a hit on my night. 

Lori Davies – Founder                                                                                                        NWA Ghost Connection

 

 

 

 

(Photograph courtesy of Lori Davies, Founder of NWA Ghost Connection.)

Advertisements

“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

 

 

 

 

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!!!***

 

 

 

 

 

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 Reincarnated Soul”

This next topic is often bit of a controversial one due to different beliefs. It is never my intent to offend anyone with what I write, but I do believe that having an opened mind is key to understanding the unknown.

Now, the subject of reincarnation is one that I find to be extremely interesting. Do I believe in it? Absolutely, 100%! What exactly is reincarnation? It’s when a spirit/ soul is born again. After an individual dies, their spirit/ soul is reincarnated into another living body. A “rebirth”. Many believe that the reason for this is to learn from one lifetime to another, taking with us knowledge that will help us to achieve higher wisdom.

As crazy as it may sound, I actually have memories of some of the past lives that I’ve lived. These memories (as few as they are) are as clear as the ones that I have from this life. I know this sounds absurd, but I have strong connections with the eras from which my recollections come.

For instance, a few years ago I was at a book signing for my novel, The Spirit Within when I was approached by a lovely elderly woman (for which I wrote the article “A Curious Encounter”) who told me that she could “see” things that others couldn’t. Then, she proceeded to tell me that I used to be a white witch. I gently smiled at the beautiful face and replied, “I know” right before she walked away. And I honestly did know what she was talking about, even though to carry on such an intense conversation with her wouldn’t have been prudent at the time. However, I would have loved to have done so because she seemed truly inspiring.

But in regards to which she was referring to, I knew very well. It was late 1600’s, time of the witch trials. I was a single female in my mid- twenties and considered a healer among the community. I don’t remember exactly how it all transpired, but I was eventually wrongfully accused of working with dark magic. My last memory? Hanging in the tree just before I died and looking down at all the ones who sought out my help before the panic of ignorance changed their minds. I also remember my clothing, down to the very minute detail, from my brown dress to my shoes and even my long hair.

Then, there was the life when I was a male soldier in the U.S. Army during World War II. I have such a strong attachment to that time, including the music for which I absolutely love! I died after being shot out in the field. It was pouring down rain, my Army fatigues were soaked and muddied, and I fell face first into a fox hole where I drowned in a deep puddle.

There are a few more memories I have, including when I was a very caring nurse in a hospital at the turn of the 1900’s. These are all pretty intense memories, but they’re definitely mine. If you have any recollections of reincarnation, I’d love to hear about them. Let’s open up and share!

 

 

Here are a few great articles that I found to be rather interesting…. had to share! 😉

Past Lives: 11 Signs Your Soul Has Reincarnated Many Times

Have You Walked This Earth Before? 6 Signs of Reincarnation

10 Signs Your Soul Has Reincarnated – Power of Positivity

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Art with a Ghostly Twist”

First, let me start off by saying that I’m a huge fan of the punk rock band, The Ramones. One of my favorite songs by them is “Pet Sematary” (yep, just like Stephen King’s story). “I Wanna Be Sedated”, “Rock & Roll High School” and “Blitzkreig Bop” are some of their more well-known songs. The Ramones were a band from 1974 – 1996 consisting throughout their career with the following members: Joey Ramone, Dee Dee Ramone, Johnny Ramone, Tommy Ramone, Richie Ramone, C.J. Ramone, and Marky Ramone.

Aside from their numerous albums, The Ramones even had a film titled after one of their songs, “Rock & Roll High School”. The main character’s name is Riff Randell. With her playful pigtails and knee high socks, she and her friends defy an overbearing principal who is set out to ban all music from entering their school. This 1979 comedic film even has a treat for all Ramones fans. The band is featured throughout the film! Yes, I’ve seen it countless times… love it!!

Okay, I’m sure you’re probably wondering why am I bringing The Ramones up since I write about the paranormal? Well, unfortunately the lead singer, Joey Ramone died April 15, 2001 of lymphona. A battle, that after fighting it for seven years, finally took Joey’s life. Joey’s real name was Jeffrey Hyman. Not long after his death, I painted a picture of him using watercolors. Throughout my life I’ve painted lots of different artistic creations, but this particular painting was the only one I’ve ever experienced anything like what I’m about to tell you.

I sketched the picture, then carefully chose the colors that I wanted. After applying the last stroke, I stepped back and inspected the newly painted image before me. Everything was exactly like I had painted except for one very noticeable detail. Joey’s eye peering through the lens of his sunglasses! It’s very discernible and I promise that I didn’t paint his eye. There was never any intention of an eye being there. I painted a completely solid colored lens.

Now I know that when painting with watercolors, that using the medium can be pretty tricky sometimes, but an eye forming perfectly, looking through the lens was definitely trippy! And after all these years, it still makes me think….. hmmm….. coincidence? Who knows…. just thought it was interesting……

 

 

**** For all you amazing art lovers out there, canvas, framed, wood, metal and acrylic prints of “Joey Ramone” are available at…. https://fineartamerica.com/featured/joey-ramone-sheila-renee-parker.html

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

(“Joey Ramone” Watercolor by Sheila Renee Parker. Prints of “Joey Ramone” are available @… https://fineartamerica.com/featured/joey-ramone-sheila-renee-parker.html.)

 

Midnight Madness

As stealthily as the wind may blow,
I writhe upon my midnight glow.
As I crawl upon my weary prey,
starting early without delay.
Spying on it with surprise,
see the terror in its eyes.
As approaching the frightened one,
there’s no struggle, the fight is won.

 

 

(A poem by Sheila Renee Parker.)

 

Happy Tuesday and a fab week to you all! Hope you enjoyed reading my quaint little poem, Midnight Madness. It was one that I wrote many moons ago (almost as far back as the times of the dinosaurs) when I was in high school. I wrote a lot of poetry back then. Instead of listening to the teacher at the front of the class, I would be looking out the window with poetic rhythms collaborating in my head. I couldn’t help it… the rush of verse flowed through my veins like a vessel on an uncharted mission. Loved the creative adrenaline. Actually, I still do…. ’tis the reason why I’m sharing with you! 😉

~ Much love & light!!!

 

 

 

 

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 Black Heart

On a bed of roses she lies

as the vampire drains her, she dies.

Drinking her blood, drop by drop,

tasting her crimson as her heart stops.

He feels the essence of her very soul

leave her body while she turns cold.

Then, the embodiment of Death comes to take her over.

The vampire has become her final lover.

The Grim Reaper reaches for her hand

to take her away to Purgatory’s land.

She looks up into his dark, hollowed eyes

then looks back at the vampire to say her goodbyes.

He returns her gaze as she drifts away,

longing for just one more moment for her to stay.

But her time has come for her at last.

It will no longer be present, the time will be past

as the reaper takes her away,

alone the vampire must stay.

 

 

(“The Black Heart” ~ Poem by Sheila Renee Parker)

 

 

 

 

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!