So You Could Say 3...

The werewolf story: concluded...

There is a cemetery in Schenectady that Fred had showed me and it was a gorgeous one. It dated from colonial times and the front part had been declared a preserve/park area. It was one of the great ones with big oak trees, shady areas, real flowers, and tombstones with dates you can only imagine.

The energy there was something else, too. You could actually feel how it was divided between local "covens". One area felt wiccan, one something I couldn't identify, etc. etc. I think I counted five divisions the couple of times I was there, and I didn't explore very far because the far back was what caught my attention. It was very plainly the place reserved for the more dark arts.  There was graffiti on tombstones, wax drippings on the top of a sarcophagus... but what had convinced me the folks who used the hidden area were real was a bush at the entrance of the little area.

Inside of it, wrapped up in bit of string and dangling as spellwork dictates was a bit of freckled fur that looked a lot like a wolf's fur. It was that which caught my attention, kind of like that line in The Last Unicorn movie where the unicorn says to Schmendrick, "You must never run from anything immortal. It catches their attention."

Now even then I knew sensing the energies could have been a product of my imagination. A lot of people would say that. But I dunno. I may not be very good at listening to myself when my premonitions say "go do this" or "prepare for power outage" or what have you... but I'm good at listening to my nose. And my nose said there was directed energy  there.

I was in a mischievous mood when I took Tee's boyfriend with me to show him the cemetery. Poor shy little fellow. I was only playing, but I think perhaps it was a bit on the cruel side to take this guy to a vortex of energy in the mood I was in. And this mood is like having all of your doors and windows open at once with the power turned on maximum, the stereo blaring, and signals being pumped into you by the gods themselves. You can tell everything that happened in an area - not like in the movies where they replay events as if you're watching a play. It's knowledge you take for granted, because you always knew it. You just know.


And I knew that the Group In the Back had been holding rituals, using the sarcophagus as their ritual table. And I knew they were trying to summon their god - Lucifer, perhaps, or some other deity along that line. And it wasn't that long after I'd been attacked in New Jersey for being Lucifer, myself, and the energy they sent out was a damn near match to what excites me.



So I knew that climbing on top of the sarcophagus and grabbing the energy tendrils in my hot little hands in order to send a large power burst that literally screamed "I"M HERE! YOU SENT FOR ME, RIGHT
???" would catch their attention.

Poor Tee's boyfriend was white as a sheet. I'm not sure he could swallow the fact that I had just answered a coven's summons by standing in the center of their combined power.

While standing on that sarcophagus - I hadn't even had time to get down again - I was jolted with, "WE'RE COMING!"

"They're coming!" I shouted in glee to Tee's boyfriend. I jumped down, laughing nervously or just laughing, and took him out of the back to what I considered the "Wiccan area." And we stood there - him about to crap his pants in fear and me expecting a group of teenagers or college age adults at best.  I even would have agreed to meet them and play a bit, I decided, if I felt they were okay.

Four or five vehicles appeared in ten minutes.  The first was a cop - stepping out of his personal vehicle. The second was a business man in a very nice car.  I can't remember the others, but standing there watching them as they went into the back and held a large discussion trying to figure out who was there you knew these people weren't just anybody. They were local leaders.

Only one person do I remember clearly, and that's because as she climbed back into her old car with the stink of "abandoned single parent with little money" all over her she pulled away from the group and drove by Tee's boyfriend and I from where we stood in plain sight watching in shock. She looked closely at he and I, driving by. Her eyes narrowed... and then her expression changed. We were not the demons she was looking for. She forgot us and drove away.

They all drove away after a while. Tee's boyfriend was very quiet for the rest of the day. And he was scared around me for a couple of days after that, but that was when he really started to side with me and not the rest of the household. I don't know what they'd told him, to be honest, if anything. I don't know if they talked much about me at all - well aside from the negative backstabbing things they acted on later. But that event maybe, just maybe, changed his mind about something. And his moral support I look back upon even years later and thank him quietly for: my brave friend.

Now when I find a cemetery of interest I tend to visit it a lot - usually it's to do things like tend forgotten graves or do good things. I don't like vandals. Cemeteries can be beautiful, but only if you take care of them. So of course I went back.  But within two weeks the energy in the back was gone and I searched... they'd moved their vortex. I could even feel where it was. But I didn't care to chase them. I will admit I was a little disappointed. I like making new friends. But, what are ya gonna do. Instead of chasing them I cleaned up some of their mess and made note that the werewolf spell was gone.

I wonder if it worked for the caster better than mine had done for me.


And that's the end of the werewolf spell story.

The Woman with her Eyes Sewn Shut

The Woman with her Eyes sewn Shut

A Strange Defense

To continue my thoughts from the previous post, I don't know if I'd managed to open a stargate or not that day. Considering I was trying to go, once again, to Pern the chances are not. Chances are really high that all I'd managed to do was pour energy into my doorframe and create a nifty visual effect.


With that failed, I turned to other ways to try to escape. My next tactic was to turn myself into a werewolf. LOL. But I guess I'll talk about that later.


There is a mental exercise I will do on occasion - it depends on my mood shift I guess as to whether or not I remember to do it. I figure I probably should do it every night, but most days I'm so exhausted from working or what have you that I just crawl into bed wanting to sleep. (Some day I'll get to work regular hours instead of 12+ and that will happen to me less. Then I shall get to write in this journal more frequently. Woo hoo!)  I want to share this mental exercise with you because if you're built like me, it's a very good step in gaining control of the matrix that has been put into your head. And if you're "at that age" you need to get control or you won't make it to the other side.

When I lay me down to sleep, I mentally speak to the other selves I have in my head. It's not hard. You're preparing to put yourself into that all-important liminal state the handlers need you to be in when they trigger your alters, so it's not that large of a leap to reach out and touch someone. So that's what I do - and it's how they reach out to touch me when they feel they need to. If you learn to listen you can hear them talking to each other (even though I'm told they're not supposed to know each other exists). Sometimes I can catch snippets of conversation - but never enough to make much sense. About half the time I can actually manage to walk into the "between space" and see whose there.

The "between space" is like a brown-floored room. It has no walls except for darkness, and that's where we all go to talk to one another. I've been there a lot of times. When I was younger, I didn't know where I was going but now I understand it a bit better. It's only a bit of shared headspace.

So when I lay down to sleep two nights ago I "spoke" specifically to the one alter I have come to view as the most active and prominent one. She has no name that I know of, but I've called her a lot of things over the years. She's a shapeshifter, a practical joker, very sly and really everything I could have been but was shaped into not being. The white fox. I envy her and her power, so often when I remember to I beseech her to please help me continue assmiliating all of the people into one person with me.  Because I don't want to be split anymore. I want to be one single person, to hold all of my memories, to know where I've been, and to remember it. To genuinely remember it. I view that personal knowledge as the greatest power.

The feeling I've always gotten from her is that it's a good plan (being hers) but she has to assimilate as the very last person. Sometimes I think it's because she's afraid. Sometimes I think it's because she's the one trying to round things up and if she's gone things will stop. Sometimes I just don't know.

While calling to her, I found myself walking into the "between space". As I did, I saw another me already there. She had really long hair and her back was to me. Thin. Man, I wish I were thin like they were.

Someone walked past me. Her hair was long in the style that I wear it but it was an unkempt mess. She wore a beret; a woolen or crocheted one. It had a texture anyway. I think it was brown.  She passed me to my left and walked up to the other girl, who turned to the side a bit to greet her. I still couldn't see the other girl's face. But I saw the newcomer's face. Her eyes were sewed shut. And it wasn't just eyes sewn shut. The eyelids were sewn in these humongous half-moon shapes that basically lined where the skull eye socket would be. It was unnatural looking yet natural at the same time, and her face was lined by... I don't know what. Too much sun. The world. I don't know.

She turned to face me and even though her eyes were sewn shut she could see me, and I knew she could see me. The first girl whispered something into her left ear and left, all without me seeing her face. Newcomer and I faced each other a moment and I'm not sure what happened after that. I walked away or she walked away. Either way I was pushed back out of the between space, which happens when they realize I'm in there, and I was laying in bed with my eyes open.

There is a person in my head that I personified into comics that was a war general. The black peacock, I suppose, although I don't know if she is that particular persona. She is most likely linked the way all alters are in some ways and others.  But this person I've always known was blind. She's fond of alcohol, and her power is brutishly strong. She can kill you by manipulating your body's electric current - but she will only strike in self defense. So I guess of the alter types she's what they call a "defender". Although another word that pops automatically into my head is "the leader".  One of the trinity that makes up the me that is truly me. Or is it 8? 10?

She has no name, and all I can tell you about her is a bunch of feelings and two events when I think it was her that decided to come to the front of the room. The feelings are warlike: angst, power, a desire to flatten cities, a need to put some things to right, a need to follow the plan, a natural inclination to delegate, full expectation to be treated as a queen. Things like that. Most of it is a strength that swells in the bottom of my throat, and when I feel her inside of me I'm driven to research mind control, the source of our problem, learn more about the political environment going on in parts of the world, and to make contact with those "beneath me" for the information they have to give.

Like my trickster, she has come forward many times I am sure. But the two that stick out the most in my mind happened in the past 15 years. The first: a friend had come with her boyfriend and we held what we call "the Black Ritual." It's essential a truth-making ritual involving a bottle of wine that I charged with energy for a while. One person who is in the drinking circle will get hit with the magic and their inner truth will be revealed.

I was living in Jacksonville, Florida at the time. I think it was... 8 years ago? I was the one hit with the truth and even though I've drank more than a bottle of wine before, I blanked out. I remember coming to the front a few times while I cried about being abandoned by people and other things that had been bothering me. I remember keeping my eyes closed because as far as I was concerned, I had no use for them.

With my eyes closed I knew where everyone was, their every movement. My sense were wide open. And my friend insisted on calling me "Malek, Malek, Malek" (she didn't even pronounce it properly, which annoyed the shit out of me) and I finally shouted at her that "Malek" was NOT my name. She asked what was it then but I had no answer for her. Just a blankness inside where a name should be. And I was content with that.

At one point I became concerned for my daughter and needed to know where she was. My friends told me she was in bed, but being as this was my child I had to check on her. So I grounded and centered myself to get enough control to find my child and check on her. I opened my eyes as I pulled in air through my nose to see my friend step back as I did so. Her fear hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd never felt someone's emotion that strong before. I registered it but was not concerned by it. "This person is afraid because I have opened my eyes and they have seen something." So my eyes closed again and I checked on my daughter by walking through the house and down the hall that way. I didn't open them again until I stood by where she was in the bed to fix her blankets.

And that's all I remember of that night.

The other time happened years before that when I was living in New Jersey. I was at a party - an Otherkin party being hosted by one of the prominent social climbers in the group. I was hanging out having a good time, just happy go lucky me, when something in the conversation I was listening to went silent. I don't' know if it was on purpose, but to my best guess a trigger phrase had been said. I felt myself shift immediately.

I was cold, quiet, and wanted nothing to do with the group of people in the room. So I went to a side room and sat in the dark by myself, staring straight forward and waiting. One of the people, the socialite's roommate, got concerned about me and came in there to see how I was doing. I can't remember what he was saying to me. I just remember thinking consciously that I had to give him answers he wanted to hear; things programmed in my mind as the appropriate response to make people think I was actively engaged in the conversation even though I was only running through a program.

He was expressing concern - and I could feel his concern - when he laid his hands on my upper thigh. That was his mistake. I slapped his hand quickly with my right hand like a viper, bringing my hand up as if it were the snake's head that had just struck. I *felt* energy like a stream of electricity leave my hand as I locked onto him in this way. The energy poured into him for about a full minute. Then I slowly put my hand down and resumed my waiting stance.

I kind of remember he apologized. And I kind of remember telling him that it was okay, that I just didn't like to be touched that way. I definitely remember the feeling that no one was allowed to touch me that way. I was above them. I have no way of knowing if someone attached to me like my husband would have been able to tup me or not in that state. I'd like to think so, but that's something to talk about another day.

The roommate went back to the others but after a few minutes he said he didn't feel well and went upstairs to lay down. That's the last time I ever saw him. About an hour or two later someone went upstairs to check on him and called for an ambulance because the roommate was having or had a heart attack.

He lived. But that's all I know about it.

It could all be coincidence. I don't know. But these are the things I was reminded when I did my contact exercise. These are memories that would otherwise be lost. Pieces to the overall puzzle.