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JOURNAL ENTRY:

THURSDAY DECEMBER 9, 2010 – 8:15AM

I just listened to my recording again and wrote this down to keep it fresh in my mind. Before I go to meet Rev. Billings I’m going to get this off my chest. I recorded it. I’m not erasing it because I said I’d be honest with my investigation. 

So I guess I have to deal with everything that happens, right! I just have to deal with it. Right? Right! Am I right? I have to deal with it! Right!  Because I am-

FUCKING FURIOUS!!! 

How! How!  Tell me how the fuck could Donald know about Greely or my Grandma calling me ET?  Who set me up? 

I never talked to anyone, ever, EVER!  I never, not once, ever fucking talked about my abduction!

I feel a lot of things “bubbling up” inside, for lack of any better words.  My whole body is pulsating with:

Hate! 

Rage! 

Pain! 

Shame! 

Guilt! 

I feel violated!  

I feel helpless! 

I fantasized a thousand times about killing Greely. Taking a knife and ripping through his body. Ripping out all that he stole from me. That son of a bitch pervert took advantage of an innocent kid. 

I was only eight and I still smell that Old Spice sometimes and feel those wet, clammy hands that started sweating with excitement after the door clicked shut. I hear that rattling air conditioner drowning out his demented moan. And see the chalk dust dancing in the air.  It didn’t want to fall to earth and feel that cold, hard floor. 

It just wanted to be free and float in the sunlight, fly out the window into the playground and laugh and forget about the fact that it became chalk dust because it was crushed. Crushed against that blackboard. 

Crushed! 

Manipulated in the hands of a monster until it wasn’t even chalk anymore!

AUDIO LOG

THURSDAY DECEMBER 9, 2010 – 8:30 AM

(With additional notes during review.)

“This is Eddie Hansen with Reverend William Billings. I have permission to tape this interview.”

“Yes,” Billings answered. “You seem a bit disconnected Eddie,” he added, taking a long, hard look into me.

“I’m fine,” I casually responded. “How long have you been here, Reverend?”

“Since September of 2009. Let me ask you something Eddie, do you believe that the Bible is true?”

“I’m asking the questions, Rev? It’s my interview right?” I told him, remembering to keep control. 

“Alright Eddie, Go ahead.”

“Why are you here?”

“To seek the truth,” he answered plainly.  

“Good. Me too.”

“Good,” Billings confirmed before throwing the darts again. “Then do you believe that the Bible is true?”

“Why’s that matter?” I barked, as the irritation of his pompousness began to seep into my skin.

“Because you chose to enter into a world, or more carefully put, enter a spiritual dimension that is experiencing warfare. And you are not equipped to be on the field, much less fight in the battle.

That got to me. But I wasn’t letting some priest or condescending shrink one-up me. So I told him. “I’m okay. If I were you I’d be worried. People close to me know why I’m here and have the proof to back my theory about Annette Dobson. If she’s here, then you’re the chicken cooking in shit stew.”

Reverend Billings stood up taking a deep breath. It wasn’t a nervous breath. It was a patient one. He was trying to get me to see his point, but I’m not the type who gets brainwashed by preachers and politicians. He turned to me and calmly explained. 

“Eddie, you have to understand that human beings in the mental, emotional and spiritual state of Mrs. Dobson require care which is not yet recognized by state or federal municipalities. In the process of regulating such alternative therapies, there is a certain amount of testing and research needed to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt these treatments are safe and effective.”

“She’s here,” I said, wizened up to the fact that I am on to something big. 

“People
like
Mrs. Dobson,” Billings replied, not giving weight to my inquiry. “Nothing will be held back from you. But I need to make sure that you are safe under my care.”

“Safe from what?” I asked.

“Demonic oppression, or in a worst case scenario, possession.”

“I am possessed… possessed with finding the truth.”

“And the truth shall set you free,” Billings replied leaning toward me so I could see the intensity in his eyes. “For we fight not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in Heavenly realms.” 

“Harry Potter?” I quoted.

“The apostle Paul wrote that Eddie. In Ephesians chapter six, verse twelve. I suggest you read the entire chapter. He was a man very much like you. He didn’t want to believe, but God had a way of revealing his truth.”

Now he was starting to piss me off, but I remained calm and got up scanning the room. 

“God,”  I told him. “That’s what you believe.” 

“Because of what I’ve experienced,” Billings replied. “And what you will experience will alter your life too.

“Will it,” I answered, turning back to him to catch his response. “Then I want to video tape this life-changing event. Oh wait! My camera was hijacked at gunpoint by one of your Security Guards last night.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Billings replied sincerely. “We’ll get it for you.”

“Now. I want it now!” I demanded, making sure my stance was firm. 

Without hesitation or reaction Billings smiled and said, “Sure. Follow me.”

VIDEO LOG: 

THURSDAY DECEMBER 9, 2010

RECEIVED BY MELODY SWANN 

This file came on compact flash drive from anonymous sender. The note with it said it was from “
a friend,
” so I don’t think it came from Eddie.  Eddie wanted everything arranged by the dates for our book. So this goes here because the file says December 9, 2010, 3:12 AM. It’s a movie file. I’m playing it on my computer. Eddie showed me how to do it. He said write down what I see. 

Melody: The camera is turned on, but it’s pitch black. I can’t see anything but it’s moving. I hear the camera rattling. And water drops echo. There’s a man’s voice. He talks with a slight Spanish accent. 

“This is as far as you go without keys. If you listen careful you hear her. Mostly crying.  Sometimes I hear lots of people.  Sometimes this guy speaks crazy stuff. He screams in some other language. I think he hurts her.”

Melody: I think he’s in a tunnel or a basement. He turned and there is this large iron door in front of him. It’s sealed shut. He’s breathing really heavy. He put the camera near the door. I heard it! I heard the woman scream. It was awful. She sounds like she’s in a lot of pain.

Man: “Hear that. You hear that.”

Melody: There’s this gurgling noise, like something is sick, maybe growling. The camera’s shaking. I see a dark shadow of something. I hear something snarling. I don’t know what that is. The guy is backing away from the door slow. The camera is shaking like crazy. He is breathing hard.  It moved! Something just leaped out of the black. The camera spun around fast. The man’s running, freaking out.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! It touched me! Oh my God! Oh my God. Jesus. Jesus.” 

The camera banged off the stairwell. He’s screaming and crying as he runs up the stairs and crashes through the door. He fell and knocked the camera over. I only see his leg.  It’s bleeding pretty badly. He’s screaming in pain. I don’t think he can move. He’s crying.

“Help me. Please. Help me. Help me Jesus please help me.”

His pants are ripped open. It looks like a claw mark or bite. It’s nasty. Something tore into him good. His leg is shaking. Blood’s pouring out. He’s dragging himself toward the camera.

“I’ll never go again. I promise. I promise. Protect me God please. I promise”

I hear something there, clawing the grass, growling. It sounds like it’s circling around him.

“Jesus, I beg you. Help me. God help me please. I don’t want to die!” 

The camera shook. Something picked it up. It’s moving across the field really fast. I see a building behind it and a black shadow moving with the camera. I can’t tell. Maybe it’s an animal. That guy is lying on the ground, not moving. I hear something.  I hear a voice. It said something. Someone said something. It’s not English. 

The camera just went off. It broke or dropped when it was moving across the field. That was weird. 

Jesus, Eddie what are you doing? Who took your camera?

I’m going to play this movie and write down what I heard. It could be a message. It could be important. I really feel like I need to write this down. Something in my heart is saying, write it down, write this down!

“Avatar Hansen key O say S E C”

That’s what it sounds like but it’s not right. I know it. My stomach is churning. My heart’s telling me  I need to listen to this again.  I need to listen for Eddie.

“Avatar.” No it’s not Avatar. What is it? “
Avertir.”

I just typed that, just like that
“Avertir”
and it feels like that’s right. It’s like this pressure in my chest dropped when I wrote that down. This is important. I know it. Why would I feel like this if it wasn’t so important? 

“Avertir Hansen key”

No, it’s not key. K? Kay? Que? It’s que! That’s Spanish. I think it’s Spanish. That guy is Spanish! Maybe that guy said it. Maybe he’s trying to tell Eddie something. 

“Avertir Hansen que Jose.”

It’s not Jose. It’s Ojay? No. O say? What is it? I’m listening. It’s Ose! That’s weird, but I know that’s right. “Ose.” 

I wrote that and it felt like my fingers were being pressed into the keyboard. I felt pressure on my hand. It sort of led my fingers to type. Maybe I’m imagining this, but I never heard that word, “Ose.” Why would I type it? Why would I feel this pressure to type that? I have to keep going and figure this out for Eddie.

“Avertir Hansen qui Ose est easy.”

No it’s not easy. Think Spanish. I think he said EC. “Ici.” That’s it. I know it. This is what I heard. As soon as I wrote it, I felt so relieved. I can’t describe it, but I saw the letters in my head when I wrote this down. I saw it, “Ici”  And as soon as I finished all the pressure on my body released. It was like coming out from under water. My head was pounding and my heart pumping and I could barely breathe, like I was trapped under the water and then these words came out and released it all. All the pressure on me is gone!

“Avertir Hansen qui Ose est ici”

I have to get that to Eddie. It’s important. He has to read that!

JOURNAL ENTRY:                                 

THURSDAY DECEMBER 9, 2010 - 12:30PM

I’m writing now because some idiot jackoff busted my camera. My six hundred dollar lens is cracked and there’s a big dent in the back. We couldn’t even get it turned on. And I can’t find the flash card. I got no answers from the security guys and Santiago hasn’t picked up at the gate. So I don’t know the real story. 

Rev. Billings got called to some emergency meeting that was all hush-hush. There was no way they were letting me tag along.  

He rescheduled my tour, which was fine with me because it gave me some time to leave here and explore the surrounding area.

There are a few isolated cabins laid back off Williams Road before you get to RT 180. Most are lined with deer pelts, skinned and hung like Christmas ornaments to welcome in the Holiday season.  It looks like there’s no running water out here, limited electricity, in some areas.

So I’m not sure I want to meet my neighbors, though I think I may have heard them on the radio last night. Dell City looks good now and that’s about thirty-two miles away. 

Add another seventy-four to get to El Paso, which looks like the only place I can get my camera fixed, and I’m a long way from getting anything done today. 

I’m nine hundred and eight miles from my bed, my girl and my life. And I need this story. I can’t afford to fail. I need a game-changer.  But for some reason, the only thing that pops into my head is failure. I could picture every colossal screw-up in my life as I drove down that empty, dirt road back here. 

My first marriage was a wreck. I knocked up Jamie when she was twenty-one. I was twenty-five, doing okay as a copywriter, slugging out descriptions of health products by day and playing in a cover band on weekends. 

By the time my daughter Kennedy was four, Jamie and I were night and day. She wanted stability. I wanted sanity. If I spent another day extolling the virtue of lotus seed and papaya enzyme, I was going to go postal and she knew it.  

Living in Los Angeles with a kid, I didn’t have time for a band much less a family. I was working nights too, writing web site copy for a pharmaceutical company to make ends meet. The first three years are the toughest with a kid and we were not doing well. 

This Latin chick in my office, Sofia made feel like I finally had a set of balls and could use them. I wasn’t some loser to her, I was a rock star.  And I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. 

Fell is the appropriate word. Jamie found out and took Kennedy with her. Sofia was banging every Hollywood hipster and Tarantino wannabe so we didn’t last. It was never real anyway. It was me trying to feel better about my pitiful life. Now I haven’t seen my daughter in over four years. 

Jamie got remarried to this vineyard owner, a real wank. Scott Davis, your wine guide to Temecula. He’s even got those cheesy-ass business cards with his stupid, shit eating grin on his face. A total jackass.  

She moved the family out there. They figured it would be better for Kennedy to have a stable family, so now I’m the odd man out.