Stalking Shadows (12 page)

Because the house was small, it wasn’t hard to hear the conversation going on in the dining room. The homeowners, whom we’ll call Shelly and Rodger, were experiencing a surplus of paranormal events.

Rodger reported being pushed several times while he was in the bathroom, and Shelly felt like she was constantly being watched by a malevolent entity. In addition, items were being moved or sometimes thrown across a room, some of the crosses would fall off the wall without explanation, and the Bible on the coffee table would be violently slammed shut by something unseen.

Shelly and Rodger were convinced they had a demon, but I wasn’t so sure. The energy I felt in the house did not contain the energy of a demonic entity, but rather a ghost of someone who, when alive, walked this Earth in human form. The energy of this ghost, however, did feel very angry and menacing, but not diabolical.

Shelly and Rodger also reported seeing the ghosts of a man and a woman, dressed in clothing from the 1800s, who they felt were trying to make contact with them. The phantom couple would beckon them, but neither Rodger nor Shelly ever got up the nerve to heed the request—understandably so. They also reported that the paranormal activity began right after their landlord, who was a rather mean man, died two years ago. Before that, they’d lived in the house for five years without incident.

One of the sons then brought out a large cardboard box from the top shelf of the front closet. He opened the box to reveal several plastic bags, partially filled with Native American arrowheads, which the family found on and near the property.

What really shocked me was that each bag contained a picture of one of the members of the family. Shelly told me they did this to show who found what so that each family member would know which arrowheads were theirs.

What they didn’t realize was that by putting a picture of a family member in each bag, the potential was there to draw the spirits of the Native Americans that once made and owned the arrowheads to them, thereby making them targets—should the spirits of the Native Americans choose to make themselves known.

We already knew from our research that Native Americans were in the area many years ago, however we weren’t able to discern if there’d been some type of attack or massacre of the Native Americans on or near the property.

It’s never a good idea to keep any type of picture of yourself or a member of your family in a bag with any type of relics, no matter where the relics came from. There’s a theory among some paranormal researchers that says it could be possible, although very rare, that the spirits of the people who once crafted the relics could be drawn to the energy of the person whose picture is in a bag with the relics. This is not just a Native American thing, but applies to anything and anybody, no matter their ethnic background.

We also knew that a fire raced through the area in the early 1800s, and that not only was there a foundation of an old house next door, but also another on the edge of the woods that bordered their property. We didn’t research the property next door, because that was not the focus of our investigation. The home Roger and Shelly lived in didn’t appear on the scene until the mid-1990s, long after the great fire of the 1800s.

It quickly became evident that we were dealing with more than one entity, and all of these spectral beings were tied to the property in one way or another! It also became readily apparent that we were dealing with a much more complicated case than we originally thought.

After a brief team meeting, outside the earshot of the homeowners and their family, we came up with a plan of action: I’d walk the property, the house, and the remains of the burned-out house next door and see what I picked up. Then we’d decide on the proper course of action for each place, gather the necessary equipment, and return the following weekend to execute the plan.

I walked out the back door of the house and made my way through the massive backyard to the small grove of woods at the back of the property. I allowed the energy, which was almost palpably radiating from the woods, to wash over me, and I could “see” a group of Native American men and one chief or shaman—I couldn’t be sure which, standing in a row just inside the tree line.

Because I wasn’t sure if I was a welcomed visitor, I stopped a respectful distance away from the spirits and waited to see if they would acknowledge me. I could now make out more details of the phantom beings, and was almost positive the leader was a shaman, based upon the long staff in his hand and the few feathers that adorned his long hair. I’d run across many Native American spirits before and have always found them to be rather open and friendly.

The shaman held up his hand and motioned me to follow him deeper into the woods. Still keeping a respectful distance, I obliged and as quietly as possible followed the ghost along an old trail, noticing that the group of four or five other Native American men fell in line behind me.

I have to admit this made me rather uncomfortable, since I didn’t understand their intention as of yet, but their energy didn’t feel malevolent so I made no attempt to head for the safety of the house.

We walked in silence a short way through the woods before the shaman stopped and pointed to a rather deep hole in the ground. Getting the distinct impression the shaman wanted me to look in the approximately one-foot-deep and four-foot-wide hole, I carefully scrambled down the slight embankment and began to clear away sticks, leaves, and other debris that’d accumulated throughout the years.

Underneath all the ground cover, I found a long staff made out of an old tree branch. The top of the staff appeared to have been carved hollow when it was made, and it appeared as though some type of square-bottomed object was once attached to the staff.

With the staff in my hand, I looked up from the hole I was standing in to look at the Native American ghosts that surrounded me. The shaman bowed slightly and all the ghosts simply vanished. I spent a little more time exploring the location where I found the staff, but I found nothing else of any relevance.

As I walked back to the house, I made a mental note to make an offering the following weekend to the gentle Native American spirits.

To this day, I’m still not sure of the significance of the staff, but I choose to look upon it as a gift from the ghosts of the Native Americans that once so proudly roamed that land. It may be that the shaman gave me the staff as a sign of respect because, like the shaman once did, I deal with the spirit world. I still have the staff and it is proudly displayed in my office, as a reminder of that day.

Still pondering the event that just occurred, I turned my attention to the remains of the 1800s house that occupied the lot next to our clients’ property. Accompanied by Randy, the founder of Black River Paranormal, and his trusty video camera, we made our way through the tall brush to the lot next door.

All that was left of the structure was the foundation and a few charred pieces of wood that were clinging to the home’s remains, like a frightened child to its mother.

Randy turned on the video camera and began filming the session.

Within a few seconds of putting my hand on the burned wood, visions began to fill my head. They came so fast and furious, I had to make a conscious effort to slow them down so I could see what they were.

“This used to be a small cabin—two, maybe three, small rooms. I can’t see it clearly because the only visible light is from the rush of flames streaking across the open field next to the house,” I began.

In my vision, the fire was devouring everything in its path with a fury that only a raging fire can produce.

“The cabin was filled up with smoke and I can see a family lying in their beds, sleeping. They are completely unaware of the impending danger just outside their door.

“The man woke up and started coughing and gagging. I can see him leap out of bed and yell to his wife to get the children and her mother and get out of the house.”

I saw the man run out the only door and his eyes grow wide at the sight of the angry flames, only a few short feet from their home.

“The man saw the fire and ran back inside. I can see him shaking his wife awake and helping her gather the two kids. The kids aren’t moving and they aren’t waking up,” I said. “The smoke is so thick, the family seems to be disorientated and can’t find the door to the house.

“I see them coughing and gagging. They got down on the floor and crawled across the floor inch by inch toward the door. The wife and her two children made it out the door before collapsing a few feet away from the home—over that way,” I pointed.

“The man went back into the house to pull his mother-in-law to safety. He grabbed her and pushed her out the door. She stumbled a few feet and fell to the ground, next to her daughter and grandchildren.

“The man never made it back out of the house, and the woman, her children, and her mother lapsed into unconsciousness ten feet from the house and were ravaged by the fire.”

I pulled my hand off the board and Randy and I stood in silence for a few moments as we imagined the terror that family must have experienced.

“Do you think this is the family our clients have seen?” Randy asked as he shut off the video camera.

“I’m not sure,” I shrugged. “Let’s see if we can make contact.”

“Do what you do,” Randy chuckled. He checked to make sure the video camera disc had enough time left before clicking it back on. “I’m just going to stand here and film.”

Once again, I laid my hand upon the charred piece of wood and this time focused on one of the previous occupants of the house. Within a few moments, the spirit of the young wife and mother acknowledged telepathically that she was here.

“I’ve got the woman,” I told Randy.

“Excellent. Ask her if it’s her family that appears to our clients,” Randy said.

“She says that it is them. Her family is trying to protect our clients from the other entity in the house. The male spirit that’s in our client’s house is not demonic, just not a nice man.” I told Randy. “This woman’s family desperately wants to cross over, but they are afraid. They don’t want to leave one another in case one or more of them don’t make it across to the other side, and they don’t want to leave the family next door unprotected.”

“Can you help them?” Randy asked.

“Yes. Definitely.”

Telepathically, I told the woman spirit to have her family hold each other’s hands and go into the light together, and that we would take care of the male spirit at the house next door.

In my mind’s eye, I saw the family hold hands and walk into the light together, and once they did that, the energy of the burned-out cabin became lighter and more in line with the energy around it.

“They’ve crossed,” I told Randy. “Let’s head back to our client’s house and try to figure out who’s still there.”

Randy turned off the video recorder and we slowly walked back to meet the rest of the team. I armed myself with a tape recorder and digital camera, while Randy changed the disc in the video camera. The rest of the team spread out through the house and began to investigate. Randy and I decided to investigate the bathroom, where much of the paranormal activity had occurred, and the bedrooms.

We spent the next two hours trying just about everything we could to get a response or to make contact with the malevolent entity in the house, but everything seemed quiet. I could feel the spirit’s energy, but couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. However, it felt strongest in the hallway leading from the living room down to the bedrooms.

“It’s got to be around here somewhere,” I told Randy.

Randy looked around the hallway, and then pointed up to the ceiling; there was a hatch leading to the attic.

“Good job! That’s exactly where I think it is,” I said. “I’ve got to get up in the attic.”

It’s not unusual for ghosts, spirits, or other types of entities to hide from paranormal investigators to avoid discovery, so we took this turn of events in stride.

Randy went into the kitchen and told the clients that we needed access to the attic area. One of the sons came out of the kitchen with a ladder and electric screwdriver, and unsealed the entrance to the attic. He then unfolded the set of stairs leading to the attic.

After handing the digital camera and tape recorder to Randy, I scrambled up the ladder to the entrance of the attic. Randy then handed me the camera and recording device.

“I know you’re here,” I announced. “Make your presence known.”

Total silence, but I could feel the spirit’s energy. I started to snap a few pictures.

“You can’t hide from me,” I told the spirit. “What do you want me to do?”

Again, my question was met with silence.

I grabbed the tape recorder and handed it down to Randy, along with my camera.

When I got out of the attic, Randy and I played back the tape. We were thrilled to realize we’d captured some EVPs, or electronic voice phenomena.

When I told the spirit I knew it was there, the response from the entity was, “Phillip is here.” After I’d asked what the spirit wanted me to do we heard the word, “die.”

We asked the clients if they knew anyone named Phillip who’d died, and they said that it was the name of their ex-landlord, who’d died two years ago. He’d been a really nasty person in life, and tormented his tenants in various ways. Apparently he was continuing the harassment after death, as well.