A piercing scream rang out into the night and Laura quickly sat up in bed.
“Are you ok?”
Laura looked over at her husband and said, “yeah, just a bad dream.”
“Same one?”
“Yeah, the same one,” Laura told him.
“You really need to do something about it.”
Laura said, “I know, Mark, I just don’t want to.”
“You like those dreams?”
She answered, “no, I just don’t want to do what I need to do.”
“Well, you need to do something quick; I need to sleep at night.” Mark turned over and was soon back asleep.
Laura looked at him for a few moments, stuck out her tongue at his back and looked at the digital clock on the dresser. The numbers read 5:20 in the morning. She pulled back the blankets and stood up, “might as well stay awake.”
She walked out of the room, went into the kitchen and made coffee. After her coffee stopped brewing, Laura sat at the table with her cup and lit a cigarette. It was the same nightmare every night, since her and Mark’s walk at Laurel Creek. Laura knew that it was connected but how, she also knew what she had to do.
Laura was psychic and she hid it very well. The only people to know about her gift were her husband, best friend and her mother. Laura did not want anyone to know that she could talk to ghosts, for obvious reasons.
The nightmares began when she and Mark went for a walk on an old Indian trail his family owned in Virginia called Laurel Creek. The walk was beautiful and peaceful but Laura had a feeling of being watched. No other humans were around; they were alone. That night was the first nightmare and it was the same for two weeks. She would always wake up screaming.
“I’m gonna have to go back to Laurel Creek and find out what is going on,” Laura said aloud in the empty kitchen.
Later that day, Laura and Mark went to Laurel Creek. He parked the truck at the entrance and they began to walk on the trail. “How far are we going in?” He asked.
“Just far enough to where I first felt something,” Laura told him.
“Ok, where was that?” Mark asked.
She answered him, “I don’t really know.”
“That’s helpful.”
Laura smiled and continued to walk further into the wooded mountains. They walked for only a few minutes when she stopped abruptly. The strange sensation of someone watching sent shivers down her spine. Laura looked around; they were standing next to the creek. The water flowed soundlessly as a great vacuum descended on the area.
She saw them in the distance up the mountain; Laura knew right away that they were not human anymore. Their long black hair and the bronze skin showed her that it was Indians. They wore skins as clothing and carried simple weapons; Laura knew that they were not from the present. She was looking at the spirits of two dead Indians.
Before Laura or the two Indians could speak, an eerie sensation penetrated her soul. The two Indians disappeared. She quickly looked behind her, a shadow moved closer. Laura heard him before she saw the preacher.
He said, “for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
“Oh, God, no,” Laura whispered, but her prayer went unanswered.
The old man appeared before her terrified eyes. That supposedly, harmless aged person whom recited a psalm; scared Laura as no other ghost ever did. He looked as he did in her dreams, the look of evil gleamed in the preacher’s eyes. She wanted to run but could not; Laura closed her eyes and pleaded to have the vision removed from her sight. After a few moments, she opened her eyes; the preacher was gone. Laura looked toward Mark, he stood beside her all the color drained from his body, and etched into his face was the look of horror. “Did you see him?”
He slowly shook his head and said, “felt, felt something, something evil, I never wanna feel that way again. What did you see?”
“A demon in possession of a preacher.”
“What?” Mark asked.
“The nightmare, remember, I saw the demon go into the preacher man even though I think he was evil before then; the way he smiled about the way the Indians were killed. I think he was the reason for the slaughter. He is here too.”
Mark shook his head again, with more forcefulness; trying to shake the feeling, he just had off. He asked Laura, “why is he here, what does he want?”
“I don’t know, let’s ask them.” Laura pointed to a spot up the mountain where she last saw the two Indians.
Mark looked where she had pointed and said, “I don’t see anyone.”
“They disappeared when the preacher showed up,” Laura said and began to climb the mountain. “Not that you could see them anyway.”
Mark stared at her a moment, shook his head and reluctantly followed Laura up the mountain.
They reached the top and Laura looked around her. She saw the two Indians waiting for her. Laura walked up to them; Mark followed her silently. “Why are you following me?” She asked them.
One of the men answered her, “our tribe was killed, killed by the preacher named Isaac.”
“Why?” Laura asked.
The other man said, “we would not convert to his way.”
Laura looked at Mark, he listened to her side of the conversation with confusion; he could not see or hear the Indians. She filled him in on what they said so far.
Mark said when Laura finished, “that preacher man killed a whole tribe just because they wouldn’t convert to his religion.”
“That’s what they said and the preacher’s name is Isaac,” Laura told him.
The first Indian spoke again, “the night Isaac killed us, our shaman tried to conjure a spirit to help us. It went wrong, a demon was conjured; it took our shaman.”
Laura told them, “then it went into Isaac.”
Both men nodded and the first Indian said, “he is still with us, still trying to convert; his evil is holding us here, our spirits cannot leave this place.”
“Why are you here? It all happened up Sinking Waters, not here,” Laura asked.
He answered, “some of us escaped and came here to hide; he found us and killed us all.”
Laura nodded and asked, “why are you showing yourself to me?”
“We felt you, we felt your abilities; we need your help, you can help us.”
Laura asked him, “what could I do?”
The second one joined the conversation, “bring back our shaman and he will destroy the preacher.”
She stared at him for a moment then said, “you want me to bring back the shaman?”
They both nodded.
Laura looked at Mark; he shrugged and smiled at her. She turned back toward the two tall dark men. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
The first Indian told her, “go to the place he left, you will find the way.”
The other Indian said, “leave now, Isaac is coming.”
They disappeared as Laura felt her soul began to smother; Isaac appeared and began to walk toward her. “Oh shit, let’s go now!” She grabbed Mark’s hand; they ran down the mountain and out of Laurel Creek.
“How the hell are you going to bring back the shaman?” Mark asked once they were in the truck and driving home.
“I don’t know, he told me to go to the place the shaman left,” Laura said.
“How are you going to get there? That mountain is all fenced in, remember,” he said.
Laura said to him, “there is an opening down the road; we hop the gate and walk all the way back to that spot.”
“Yeah and hope we don’t get caught.”
She smiled and said, “we all been up there before when we lived at Agnes house and we never got caught.”
“There is always a first time,” Mark said.
“Fine, we won’t go, I won’t bring back the shaman and the whole tribe will never be at peace and Isaac the evil preacher will haunt my nightmares for eternity.”
“Ok, ok, we’ll go tomorrow,” Mark said and smiled.
That night Laur
a was a little nervous about falling asleep. She was afraid to see the Indians massacred again and the demon entering the preacher; also Isaac coming toward her.
“Don’t worry about it, maybe you won’t have it now that you know what is going on,” Mark told her.
“I hope so; I don’t want to see that nightmare again.
Laura went to bed that night, still fearful. Instead of the nightmare, she had what was more of a premonition. Laura stood on the mountain where the shaman conjured the demon. In her dream, Laura recited a mantra she did not know.
She then lit the place where he had disappeared on fire. Blue flames shot out from the ground and the shaman appeared. Then the dream turned into a nightmare. Laura heard his crackling, raspy voice behind her. She turned and out of the distance, Isaac emerged and began to walk toward her. She watched in horror as he came nearer.
He was saying, “the Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”
Laura could see the old man’s decayed face, his nose sunken in and he was more skeletal than when she saw him in the previous nightmare. His eyes were that clear, black onyx that the hell fires deep within his soul burned. Isaac was right in front of her.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” he recited.
Isaac grabbed Laura’s shoulders and pulled her close to him, she could smell his rotted breath. A shiver ran down her spine. His fingers dug deep into her skin, Laura winced at the pain. He pulled her even closer.
“I will fear no evil.”
The pain in her shoulders grew in intensity and the rotting stench revolted her; Laura began to scream.
“I didn’t think the nightmare could get worse,” Laura said to Mark after she had calmed down. She told him what happened.
“Damn, do you think that is how to bring the shaman back?”
Laura told him, “yes and Isaac was not very happy about it either.”
Mark put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She screamed and pulled away. “That hurt, oh no, turn on the light.”
He stood up, walked to the switch and turned on the light.
Laura slowly took off her t-shirt, wincing at the pain in her shoulders. Mark’s gasp of surprise told her everything. She got off the bed and looked into the mirror. There were five deep cuts in both her shoulders; the blood had begun to dry. Laura looked at her ripped shirt, with blood soaked the shoulders.
Mark cleaned up the gouges and bandaged her shoulders.
“I think I’m staying up now,” Laura said.
Mark said to her, “I don’t blame you; first thing in the morning we will go and bring back the shaman.”
In the morning, Mark and Laura walked up the road to the gate. After a quick look around, they jumped the gate and walked back up the mountain. The two came to the place where Laura saw the shaman disappear. She began the mantra from her dream; Laura was quite surprised she remembered it.
“Shaman of this hallowed ground
he who conjured demon from hell
fell from shadow
rise again from the depths
to make right the wrong you done.”
Laura lit the place the shaman had disappeared on fire, blue flames shot out of the earth and the shaman appeared. She remembered her dream and looked behind her; the preacher walked slowly toward Laura. She screamed, Mark turned and he saw Isaac too.
“Oh, shit!” Mark said as he grabbed Laura’s arm and pulled her away.
Isaac’s smile faded quickly when he noticed the shaman standing before him. The preacher stopped and stood frozen as he stared at the tall, bronze man in front of him. He could only utter one word, “you!”
The shaman raised his arm and pointed to the old preacher man, a red streak of lightening shot out of his hand.
Isaac began to shake uncontrollably and a dark shadow issued out of his wide mouth. Mark and Laura watched in amazement as the rest of the preacher’s skin began to peel off his white bones. His face began to deteriorate and his skull appeared when the rest of his flesh stripped off; Isaac’s wide, shocked eyes that looked like dark onyx fell out of their sockets and landed on the ground. The eyes burst open and a reddish gray fluid sprayed the green grass. The two watched in horror as Isaac’s bones turned to dust and blew away with the soft breeze.
Laura and Mark looked at each other, then turned toward the shaman and saw him and the demon locked together in a battle of strength. The shaman grabbed the dark shadow, which appeared to be solid and held tight while repeating some words that Laura did not understand.
The gentle breeze turned into a raging gale, Mark and Laura held each other up as the wind blew all around them. They could barely see what was happening before them.
A loud, piercing screech reverberated inside their heads; Laura and Mark put up their hands to cover the ears to dull the sound, then an explosion of air blew them off their feet.
All became silent, the wind settled to a breeze again; the two of them got to their feet and looked around. The shadowed demon was gone. Mark and Laura looked at the shaman; he nodded toward them and disappeared into a blinding light.
“That was intriguing,” Mark said shakily.
“Well, at least you got to see them,” Laura said.
A soft, warm glowing mist surrounded them both and began to rise toward the bright blue sky. Another glowing mist swept close by them and disappeared toward the heavens. Mark and Laura looked around them, hundreds of shimmering mists floated around them before heading towards the sky.
“Has the tribe been set free?” Mark asked as his face lit with excitement.
Tears glistened in Laura’s eyes as she turned and watched all the glimmering souls going home finally. “Yes, they are free now.”
Mark and Laura stood on the mountain, holding hands and watching all the spirits finally at peace, disappear into the beautiful sun filled, azure sky.
After the tribe had disappeared, the two of them turned to leave. A loud crackling, raspy voice echoed around them. Laura and Mark froze in their tracks; they looked at each other, with horror-filled eyes. “Oh no, it can’t be,” Laura said and she slowly turned back around and screamed.
The preacher man was dressed all in black, including his hat. The man was old but looked quite agile with a smile on his wrinkled face; he began to walk toward them.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I will fear no evil.”
Chapter 9
This is a real life horror that I went through in Ionia, Michigan. I was witness to something that no person should ever see. It is a nightmare burned forever into my mind.