A Ghostly Perspective

This next post was inspired by a film that I’ve recently watched titled, The Haunting in Connecticut 2: Ghosts of Georgia. The film is based on a true story and here is its description: “A historic Southern home’s new residents come face to face with a malevolent force.”

While watching, that was when it dawned on me that I was already familiar with the people portrayed in the film. I had seen them on other paranormal shows talking about their story and discussing the daughter’s ability of clairvoyance and communicating with the dead.

After I finished watching the film, it got me to thinking about ghosts and why some of them seem to be so malevolent. Perhaps their spirit isn’t actually malevolent at all. Maybe they just seem that way because they are trying to convey a message to the living. And after countless failed attempts of communication with the living, the ghosts become enraged because they have something to say but have no way of reaching the other side.

I know it may sound crazy, even far-fetched, but it made me think. So, by the time these ghosts finally find someone with whom they are able to communicate, they’re ready to unleash all their built-up emotions. And with the rush of feeling (and the fact that they’re dead) it’s easy to understand why the living can get so terrified by a paranormal encounter.

It makes total sense to me. Put yourself in their position. One day you’re walking down the street and all is well, then unfortunately something tragically out of the blue happens and you’re no longer part of the living. You’re now on the other side. You’re terrified, freaking out and you have no one to turn to. You try so hard to communicate with the living, but nothing – nadda. You try and try until one day your persistence finally becomes successful when you’re able to communicate with someone. But by this time, when you’re able to speak to a clairvoyant or whomever, you’ve got all this rush of excitement and that’s what scares the living because it becomes too overwhelming for them to handle.

Now this isn’t me in any way, shape or form, discarding all malevolent entities as non-malevolent. Extreme caution should always be utilized when investigating the paranormal because there are evil creatures/beings on the other side. So, be careful!

But the film did make me think and I wanted to share……

ghosts

Fear Cemeteries?

Fear cemeteries? Wait, no way… not me!!

Hmmm…. The fascination of cemeteries, graves, headstones, gargoyles…. etc. etc…. To many, they are quite attracted to such places. Why? Well, to me (and yes, I am one of those who find these macabre locations to be rather intriguing.) there’s something serene about the atmosphere. I am at such peace when I am at a cemetery. Which, if one truly thinks about it, should be comforting to know that the dead are “resting in peace”. After all, I am an empath and can feel the deceased’s energy. 😉

Did you know that there is actually a name for this curious allure? It’s referred to as coimetromania. According to an online definition, it’s simply defined as “An abnormal attraction to and desire to visit cemeteries.” There are many, many people with this interest. And I’m sure that with each individual, their reasoning is just as unique as they are……Find out more by reading….. A Grave Attraction

Dreams of Grandeur or Nightmares of Fear?

Our subconscious reveals our deepest fears…. or does it?

When you sleep, do you have dreams of grandeur, or perhaps maybe even something of a darker origin? Has your deepest fear ever been revealed in a horrific nightmare?

Here’s something that might set your nerves on end. The word “nightmare” dates back from Old English times when the word “mare” referred to folkloric demons that terrorized people by sitting on their chests while the individuals slept, causing them to have haunting dreams. These so-called demons were often thought to be incubi and/or succubi. The prefix “night” was later added to articulate the dream condition.

Scary stuff, right?!

~ Sheila Renee Parker on Instagram: @sheilareneeparker

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… 🤔

“A Nightmarish Origin”

We’ve all had nightmares at some point in our lives. Several people are plagued with them as if they were in a film caught in some sort of terrifying loop destined to repeat itself while others are fortunate enough to hardly ever have one. Yet, we really don’t put much emphasis into the origin of the word “nightmare”. Many of us shudder at the mere thought of even considering it. So quick are we in wanting to forget such frightening visions, but the truth of the matter is that the word “nightmare” dates back from Old English times when the word “mare” referred to folkloric demons that terrorized people by sitting on their chests while the individuals slept, causing them to have haunting dreams. These so-called demons were often thought to be incubi and/or succubi. The prefix “night” was later added to articulate the dream condition.

Nightmares, as we all know, can cause us to awake abruptly in cold sweats with palpitating heartbeats. Sometimes they can be so disturbing and vivid that the horrifying dreams can linger in our minds all throughout the waking day. Studies report that they happen mostly during REM (rapid eye movement) sleep and that we are more apt to remember nightmares than we are the more pleasant dreams.

It’s interesting how the mind works, how each and every one of us reacts to something that can leave such an impact like a nightmare. They can be so daunting that nightmares can even lead to insomnia. What causes such startling hallucinations in our sleep? Several things actually from living a stressful life that one’s subconsciousness can weigh heavily on the slumbering mind, drugs like antidepressants can also contribute to nightmares and many people even claim having scary dreams after eating late night snacks.

A lot of times, nightmares (or any other kind of dreams for that matter) can reflect feelings that a person subconsciously may not even be aware that exists. For example, let’s just say that an individual has a nightmare that involves a threatening storm with a huge house crashing down upon them. Does it literally mean that this will happen to them in real life? Let’s hope not! But it could possibly symbolize that there may need to be a change in the structure of their waking life. However with this subject, it taps into the discussion of dream analysis and that’s a whole other topic.

The way our subconsciousness works can certainly be full of loaded questions with “one of a kind” answers for everyone is different in their own unique way. How we all handle things can be compared to fingerprints, there are no two that are just alike. I’ve had my share of frightening dreams, but the way I’ve dealt with them was by bringing them to life with paper and pen, giving birth to the poems and stories that I’ve so happily created.

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

The Mourning After

Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end?

Will my perception start to fall, or will it start to transcend?

Ripping the band-aid off heals wounds faster some say.

Is this the truth or does it merely keep the monsters at bay?

Blood loss or blood flow… my thoughts are random regardless of which direction they go.

In the mirror looking back, is it my reflection that I see?

Or am I the reflection looking out, just wanting to be free?

Yesterday is history and today is now.

My past is a mystery, no need to ask “how?”.

The demon’s inside, the struggle is real.

Our combined duality is hard to conceal.

It wins with its laughter….

I’ve lost…. leading to the mourning after…..

“The Mourning After” ~ poem and artwork by Sheila Renee Parker

“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

 

 

 

 

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 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/

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