29 August 2018 | Demons, Your Stories
It was back in college. My roommate and I attended an art school and our apartment quickly became the home where my fellow classmates would come together to do homework, complete projects, talk and, if need be, crash for the night. We all became really close to a class that was graduating shortly before we would. One of the boys in this class was Wiccan. I grew up in a christian home and considered myself a firm believer, so having him in our apartment was really unsettling to me. I distanced myself when our friends and my roommate started becoming very interested in his beliefs and his stories of spirits, creatures, energy and so on. It always gave me a sickening feeling, and I would often separate myself from the group and stay in my room.
One of our friends (kyle) was almost always at our home. He was without a doubt, our closest friend and would never leave at the end of the night, without knocking on my roommates door, then mine, to say goodnight. Kyle also started becoming increasingly interested in our Wiccan friends beliefs and I think curiosity got the best of him, and he started to become more involved, without regard to the dangers or the dark side he could face. As days passed, I started seeing less and less of Kyle. His demeanor changed. He seemed depressed, jumpy, watchful and overall looked exhausted. My roommate and I were able to convince Kyle to come over one night to get some work done, as we didn’t want him to be alone and felt like he needed to get SOMETHING…whatever was happening to him, off his chest. Our Wiccan friend had also come over to talk. They admitted that Kyle had taken some of the ‘practice’ into his own hands and got in over his head. As they told me what was happening to Kyle, I stared at them both. Kyle was wearing a pair of jeans, his wallet secured in his back pocket via a thick chain. He had on a black shirt with ‘the punisher’ skull on it and a pair of black doc martin style shoes. Kyle was short and bulky. Our Wiccan friend was tall and thin. He wore a tan, tween coat you would typically see on an elderly man, a pair of khaki pants and had on a yellow T-shirt. Kyle told me about how he could see spirits since starting this, he did not WANT to see them, but they were everywhere. They weren’t physically in front of him, but projections of his mind..and since he opened a ‘door’ with our Wiccan friend, he was vulnerable now and didn’t know how to undo it. They drained him of his energy as if they were feeding off it. They stole his happiness and he was left with feelings of dread and fear…and he had not come over recently because he didn’t want to bring anything into our home and leave me specifically, at their mercy. I suddenly became really really tired..I managed to stay awake an hour or so longer before telling our friends I was going to bed around 8pm. I prayed when I got to my room, silently in my head.. What Kyle had told me terrified me and I didn’t want any part of it. The voices, being followed, seeing unfriendly spirits, spirits feeding of his energy…all I knew to do was pray to be protected from it. I was awakened a short time after 11 to Kyles voice. I opened my eyes and rolled over to face my bedroom doorway. I saw Kyle standing there saying ‘hey..I just want you to know I’m leaving now…’. I stared back at him confused because Kyle always came in and gave me a hug. It was weird that he was just standing there. I saw him shifting back and forth, in his black Punisher T-shirt and jeans. The moonlight coming from the window caused a glimmer to bounce off his chain holding his wallet in his pocket. I remember tracing the outline of the skull on the shirt with my eyes and feeling like I could see everything in hyper-detail. Then my eyes moved to Kyle’s left. A tall dark mass stood next to him, reaching clear to the ceiling. In my head, my mind was saying ‘Wiccan friend’, but thats not what this was. I couldn’t see through it, but it was still like a dark cloud. It swayed like a person back and forth as Kyle stood there, looking like he was near tears and staring at me. After a couple minutes of silence, Kyle turned to the mass as if he was addressing it and accepting his fate, looked at the ground and followed it down the hall, and out the door. My last thought before falling asleep was ‘why did our Wiccan friend change his clothes?’..
A couple days passed and I finally saw Kyle again. He looked the same..miserable and barren of all energy. I asked him if he was working on getting out of his situation and he was quiet. Then i asked ‘hey…why didn’ you and your Wiccan friend come in my room the other night before you left…you guys always give me a hug’. Kyle looked at the ground mumbling ‘I wasn’t allowed to’. I continued, ‘and why did your Wiccan friend change clothes..I saw him standing with you in the doorway’. Kyles face shot up and his eyes looked at me in absolute terror. He swallowed and said ‘Melissa…he went home at 9..that wasn’t him that you saw…’. the memory came flooding back. the shape, the fear on Kyles face, how I remember every detail of Kyles appearance but nothing of his friend. ‘We couldn’t come in because we were told not to..not by you though..by the angel. your ROOM and only YOUR room, is being protected for as long as this poses a threat. Non believers in Wicca cant see what I’m seeing..unless you’re half asleep and your mind is vulnerable. Im so sorry Melissa. I never meant for you to see that’. My face grew red hot as the blood rushed to my cheeks. I wanted to cry. I just stared at Kyle as he got up and walked out the door. I only saw him a few more times, aside from a few times in class. He started failing and had to repeat some things…I barely saw him. once in a while we’d talk online, but things weren’t the same since then.
Almost exactly a year later, I graduated and got a job in the next town over. I had been at this job for about 3 months by then and had gotten my own studio apartment on my own. On a side note, my whole family lives about 2 1/2 hours north. My mother and I are very close and have always talked every day. She didn’t like the idea of me living so far away all by myself, but I wanted to prove that i could make it on my own without anyone’s help. I had been on the phone with my mother one night when I started to get a sore throat and a cough. I told her i was going to get some rest because i had work and thought i could sleep it off. the next morning, it was worse.. incredibly worse. the energy had been sucked from my body and it felt like my body had absolutely ZERO muscle to it. As much as I tried, I could barely will my arm to reach for the phone on my nightstand. It took me an entire 30 minutes to nudge my hand to the phone to call off work. It was Friday, so they thought I was just taking advantage of an early weekend. The second they hung up, the phone thudded to the ground and I blacked out. I awoke hours later..it was late afternoon and I needed to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t move. I could barely keep my eyes open. It felt as though lead weights were tied to them and they were being forced shut. I knew I had to try moving and I knew something was wrong. Using every bit of strength I had, I slid down off my bed, and …bit by bit… I crawled to the bathroom. It took an entire 2 hours to crawl just 9 feet. 20 minutes later, I managed to turn on the bathtub. Slowly but surely, I inched myself inside and turned on the water as hot as I could make it. My body felt like it was freezing. Again..I blacked out. I remember fading in and out and awakening after 3 hours, still in the tub. The rest must have given me some ounce of energy, because I was now able to lift my arms and crawl back into bed. Saturday arrived and I slept the entire way through it. 9 missed calls from my mother and I couldn’t move anything but my eyes. I was out for over 24 hours and the only thing I could do, was lay there. I felt so helpless.. My body was in so much pain and I was overcome by fear. I could feel tears coming from my eyes as I stared at my phone, the movement to direct my head towards the nightstand was agonizing and I just wish I could call my mother to come save me. Surely I was dying.
Night fell and I saw a flicker from the lamp on my dresser. My eyes tiredly peered over as my lifeless body just lay there, still in nothing but a towel from the day before and my sheet, barely pulled up over me. With the light still on, the room somehow seemed to grow darker. I looked straight up, and saw the dark mass from the year before. It was like a blanket threatening to crush me and squeeze what was left of my life, from my body. I watched as it moved own closer, both a solid mass and a cloud at the same time. The weight grew heavier and heaver on top of me and I was paralyzed. I got the feeling that this had come to finish me off, after I had angered it and not allowed it in my room not long ago. My breathing became slower as I felt hundreds of pounds of weight start to crush me, making it almost impossible for me to breathe. tears burned down my cheeks as I quietly apologized to my mom in my heart, for how she would find my lifeless body. How long would it be before someone found me? Did I remember to tell her I loved her the last time we spoke? is this really how it ends? with the last bit of air i could force into my lungs, with the dark death hovering inches from my face, I breathed out my favorite bible song from when I was a child ‘I love you lord..’ and suddenly I was given one MORE breath ‘and I lifted my voice..’…and another breath, ‘to worship you…all my soul. rejoice’. The more I quietly sang, the more breath I was given to keep going. The mass was still above me, but a few inches higher now. I took in as much air as I could, still unable to move, and quietly, softly and painstakingly, sang ‘this little light of mine’. Several lines in, I felt anger coming from the death cloud. I opened my eyes one last time to look up at it, and everything went dark. Sunday morning, the sun came up. The light hit my face and I opened my eyes and turned my head. I laid there for a second, assessing the room and taking in deep breaths. My fingers moved, then my hands, arms and then my toes. I pushed my body up and placed my feet on the ground…I was alive. I WAS ALIVE! The night before I was marked for death and here I am, walking?! a sigh of disbelief escaped my mouth, followed by a burning pain. I swallowed…barely. I looked in the mirror and stared in shock at what I saw. The inside of my mouth, clear down to my throat, looked like it had been set on fire. I dragged myself to the hospital after a proper shower and change of clothes. The doctor was dumfounded. He said the skin looked as if I had swallowed a torch…and all I could think about were the last words I breathed out before losing consciousness ‘wont let satan blow it out..this little light of mine…’
Submitted by Melissa Dietrich to Weird Darkness and My Haunted Life Too
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