Defunct civilization of Atlantis

Defunct civilization of Atlantis take a look to the sky just before u die,, it `s the last time u will why we're live? why we're pain? i hate my alife, i want to die, i like a dark dreams of blood and iron its the shadows of mine immortality destniy those names belong to me you can't bring me down because you'r blood is mine when you become a dirty corp shadows of mine when we all gonna die you still a child go to hell guy Is raised Vdolk even for a moment the bottom lightning defunct civilization of Atlantis??? Or asked mystique attached to the human civilization advanced technology sub-article synchronization, which never Khaleda realities remain in the memory of successive peoples??? Is Tvkrt reflect the effects found by scientists from the remnants of the lost continent?? Alotalants (Atlantis) or Alatlanted, I spoke about the continent Acasis ancient peoples and civilizations ... and extensively as classical literature and modern films, documentaries, and picked up several people suffering ... and the Academy of Sciences examined the effects detected and removed. The soles of the human sciences _ Alaizoterec emphasizes historical fact as a major humanitarian. Has attracted the attention of the lost continent of researchers and fired several questions are urged thought of diving and exploration in order to determine its geographical location and the cause of its disappearance. Perhaps the biggest question that always arises is: how human civilization has such great Alatlants to reach a very high degree of development and progress? How can large numbers of human beings are nearing completion Buaeha that is wrong and return to the starting point ... the start date of the stone with the emergence of human awareness of the Stone Age?!?! Most scientific encyclopedias such as Britannica and Encarta is known about the continent of Atlantis based on what he said in a written "Criteaus" and "Timaeus" of Plato, who spoke at length about the existence of the lost continent

Vagueness and ambiguity about the lost continent of Atlantis

Vemosusp Ankarta modern states that the Atlantic and the Atlas Mountains in North Africa bureau derived from the name of Atlas, King of the lost continent, according to Plato, which was based on information transferred from the Egyptian priests to the traveler and the Greek legislator Solon when he visited a number of ancient Egypt, ancient peoples still retain Designations similar to the continent of Atlantis, and after Atlantes Alotlanted extinction, hidden knowledge reached by people fear that those times are accessible and understandable to those who do not use or abuse In 1958, the d. Manson Valientein a world land layers and effects, filming a series of lines of the walls of huge stones, after studying these lines Valientein found that most of the stones stick together a straight lines and the problem of a 90-degree angle, indicating the accuracy of engineering reached by ancient people may be people Alatlants As saying. And most important thing in this series of stone lines as extending the long distances to connect the islands on the surface of the Atlantic Ocean to each other, but in the bottom of the ocean. Turning to the writings of Plato, in which we see a description of the transformation happened to a large section of the people of the continent of Atlantis following its plunge to the very end of article ... Aftgt involvement in the lives of individual interests and the spread of corruption. As has been ruling the violence and engage in slavery and acting inhumanely Despite the extinction of the continent Alotalants, but the physical features of many emerged and started to show turn the problem into the open scientific evidence examined by the researchers. For these many signs, most notably here and we will in accordance with the relevant map stored in the Library of the United States Senate (Library of Congress) know Piri map were found in 1929 in the Turkish Sultan's palace is now known as Topkapi, which shows the name and location Reis continent of Atlantis on the map. There is an Egyptian manuscript written on papyrus manuscript called Harris length of 45 meters point to fate continent of Atlantis which are held at the British Museum, as well as other Egyptian manuscript stored in the Hermitage Museum in the city of Petersburg in Russia, referring to Pharaoh sent a mission to the West in search of Atlantis. Mountain range in the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean west of the Strait of Gibraltar its mission by Russian submarine called Academian Petrovsky in 1974. After studying the quality of this mountain range, indicating that it was the old surface of the ocean ... The researchers say it was part of the lost continent, Atlantis. Of the quartz crystal skull that was found in 1924 at the head of the temple destroyed in Honduras with precise details of the skull is very normal person without any trace of scratches it. After studying the skull in the scientific laboratories of Hewlett - Packard, show that it has optical characteristics that if it was sunshine from the perspective of certain lights emanating from the eyes, nose and mouth. What has puzzled scientists quartz crystal stone is one of the hardest stones on the diamond after all, so it is difficult to his sculpture. The sculpture, it must impact (or scratches) sharp tools that show, while not showing any impact on this skull, even under the microscope. Remain outstanding and the piece of the most ambiguous evidence on the existence of advanced technological civilization and therefore we attribute some of the most crystal skull scientists today to the defunct Atlantis civilization. No matter how many views on the continent of Atlantis, it will not change the fact residing in the islands under the water ... There is no doubt that such effects are physical evidence on the evolution of civilization - technology that is not only a reflection of the evolution of the soles - spiritual and the importance of human life is always in the know Lessons from history and experiences of peoples to avoid foot slips

darck you can

Mr. Brezhnev and supplements Pappalov ((Nobody in our time can deny that the Soviet Union had concealed all the information he had gathered on the unknown organisms found in different parts of the country The Nobody disputes the fact that alien phenomena inability of scientists to find a logical explanation for falling, such as the story of people who were kidnapped by an dishes, and who conducted them different experiences and spacecraft to visit different parts of the country, and taking a sample of soil and plant remains of the spacecraft Oomthel Found in the SVERDLOVSKY But could not anyone responsible should admit it publicly because doing so would create feelings of fear and anxiety in the community, and that citizens were not prepared to accept such a wacky, and some officials were at the height of the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States of America , Believe that some phenomena making and planning agency Alvdhaoualammerikip that have done so for the purposes of espionage World says Mhikhalov Pritckov People were delighted cruised to victory achieved by the Soviet Union in more than one area of _khasossavi conquest of space, to the extent that some optimists started dreaming of the establishment of residential areas on the moon in some other planets. The scientists called arrogant remarks suggest to people if the space is in their hands, so it was not necessary to know the average citizen in the Soviet Union, there are other organisms that live outside of our small planet, has the highest Bkthirmen our capabilities, to penetrate our airspace without advanced monitoring equipment seized , Kidnap people from our midst, they are multiple experiments, technology has made great strides in development and progress. Was it reasonable to recognize officials in the Soviet Union for people with all these facts Brod, and let these alien beings are extracted, buoyed by the euphoria of victory in the conquest of space

Why the Soviet Union disappeared behind this

After the collapse of the Soviet Union and the fall of communism, started showing some of the information and facts that were before the early stock within the state archives, and surrounded by a thick wall of secrecy and confidentiality, but remains the story of alien organisms were found in Siberia and other Russian territories, some of the biggest secrets to the Soviet Union tried to Akhvahaan all, considered a State secret high. In 1968 found security interests of the vestiges of Russian spacecraft exploded in a nearby area BEREZOVSKIY SVERDLOVSKY inside and a large number of small metal pieces, and the charred remains of alien organisms, and disappeared by the impact most strongly drawn to land, and shortly thereafter was found near the city of KOROLEV the remains of other organisms Belong to worlds unknown, and the transfer station was set up specifically to study the phenomena ambiguities, and organisms from outside the ground. But why these discoveries have been sealed off from public opinion throughout the long years? Why deliberately Soviet officials at that time hiding from everyone? Before that answer this question we have to connect these discoveries era in which they occurred. At that time, the cold war between America and Alathadalsoviati previous peak, and the arms race and the invasion of space, a goal sought by both Russia and America to ensure the success of the system Tried to impose on the world, and the clash on his show that the efficacy of capitalism and communism. In this context, world Mhikhalov Pritckov who took study alien phenomena that were occurring in the skies of the former Soviet Union: ((Soviet politicians are doing their best to convince people that the new world order Senqlhm to the welfare and bliss, has played scientific achievements, and the invasion of space projects, a major role in the consolidation of this belief when people Kmasahmt media largely to convince other people that they sort of people And superior to other nations, and for this very reason, all the information has been gathered on the alien phenomena, and organisms from outside the Earth remain confidential, secret and major state secrets, where it was not reasonable to recognize the Soviet officials, who tried for years to convince the people The success of the new system, and domination in the conquest of space, failing to solve the puzzle of strange phenomena occurred over land. If such news was leaked at the time, the Alenc may lose confidence in the ability of the Soviet Union's invasion of space, scientific excellence, the tone was reluctant By officials at the time)).

Jean-Jean could see were the days

Elves are turning to many forms .. This picture was taken in 1980 and I still hear the voice of the cat dead This may be your grave grave day? Who knows?yet?? Andrial that is

Michael, born 1973, p. 59 of the book unexplained supernatural phenomenon

Strangely enough, this image of the statue Enchanted Stone works to date .. and took in 1977 .. The photographer died two days after taking the picture? .. Gas from the book of the world

why we'r life? why the world is strange..i hate my life..i hate my day..i hate you're world..why we're stay alife!why we're pain! kill you're life,the world is strange,you're sun will not come again!!i like a dark!!i want to die..i want to die...i want to die!!no way!!dark is here , ur life is black again!!are u really like ur a pain life! so what is the life!! evil here,blood all away!!i want to die..i want to day..i want to die...all my life is black..ur'e way is dark..you will kill ur self alone! or evil will kill ur life!! i hope back child again!!no pain..no cry alone!! this is ur life!! really death is the way. die darlling..die to rest,when pain is come die is the way!no faight!die darlling,i bright when die,die is nice,evil say kill is the way

Phenomena unknown confirm the curse of the Pharaohs

Occurred in various places on people who have nothing to discoveries ancient Egyptian papyrus, securities or Pharaonic tombs, all the story behind the phenomenon did not know the reason for them, and some Orjhaa to the curse of the Pharaohs is it so? The second in the morning of April 1923 there was darkness in Cairo due to the interruption of electricity, which is not known why he was, in Garden City, major hotels there is no alternative to the blackout, during the drop-dead world of Egyptian Lord Karna von At the same time, but with a different place where Taking a dog bark in the Lord and fell dead No apparent reason. What happened Lord of the death of his dog to attract the attention of the world, Lord was the process adapter to the discovery of King "Tutankhamen," which took place before the death of Lord months and star in his honor was the first to enter the cemetery after it was discovered after twenty years of research and exploration and after funding was funded Howard Carter, who first shot to despair of his colleagues mocked consider taking in the Valley of the Kings in Luxor, which had not been found, stolen, and most likely some archeologists that the pharaohs were skilled in magic, they Shroa treasures of their graves and using the fairy and others Ordjaoh to camouflage and concealment Voguena Howard that his Karnar von Financed a The process of research and exploration in the area which has not searching the The Karnar von-loving effects agreed and began Howard and his men in the search for three days and did not find anything and came from a human workers found that the stairs buried under sand and the sand has been removed with care and sensitivity for peace, which legally to the door and closed it in the fall of 1922 and was invited to the opening of von Karnar The cemetery was the first to put his hand inside when he entered and did not see anything as he burst through from the burial room was shaken because of hot air, but the flame but soon found the cemetery and components of the masks of gold set with precious stones and Pharaonic furniture, weapons, clothing and coffin on Bmomcia King After the discovery of the huge impact of this phenomena and started to show strange events when the team out of the cemetery severe dust storm blowing at the entrance, and if Besqr hangs at the opening of the cemetery towards the West which means the unknown for the Pharaohs after a star-month Allodr Karnar von Bldgh mosquito in the left cheek caused In his examination of the mummy "Tutankhamun" the cemetery discovered and found a scar in the left cheek at the same place the bite of von Karnar After the death of his brother died last month of pneumonia in the same period Fahmy died on your discovery of a shareholder in the cemetery, Matt George Gould rest of the U.S. after leaving the cemetery in the 1930 suicide of the draw and inventory the contents of the cemetery, "Richard Huff" and gave his father committed suicide and found himself in his room Pharaonic timely, summary, the 12 people involved in the disclosure of the cemetery died in one way or another. Even the official Egyptian antiquities in 1966 when he was allowed to travel treasures of Tutankhamen after being hit by a car, Will is already a curse pharaohs or coincidence? Is von Karnar died because of radiation emitted from the mummy or what? Why cut off electricity to Cairo? Why welding eagle on the door of the tomb?

Sun You Stop the Great knowledge in the way of death

To uncover this mystery, the archaeologist Max Oye year 1901, accompanied by a group of his aides in Peru, an exploratory trip to a cemetery Chaoihiea after hearing a lot about the horror of the remains which are local tribes, and began to examine the bodies identified as belonging to the year 2200. But he also found that some of which date back to only a few years, thus pushing the scientific panel to ask the following question: What is the secret behind the existence of such bodies as well as modern dating back to the bodies of two thousand years? Indeed, scientists have a specific answer to quench grudges, and to this ambiguity did not find Max Oye story from the delivery people of the area near the cemetery who have confirmed that some pirates and thieves tried to exhume the grave believing the existence of a historical treasure worth millions of dollars, but how those are here pirates . Or words more clearly: How the killing of these thieves? Is it the thirst? Is it hot sun or sand storms? Or large muscular effort required by the uncovering of these graves? So far, no specific answer can be given, although theories researchers meet at this theory, but the people of the area, such as the tribe NAZCA, strongly reject this and insist on the existence of evil spirits guarding the area and Kinsha hiding in an unknown place, says a local resident: ((not None of us knows exactly what is happening in the cemetery specifically, all I know is that every time our forefathers were buried and are covering the bodies with earth, reappear, in the same form in which it was before

Puzzles that the series does not end at this point, he acknowledged a number of people in the region or the existence of organisms strange objects hovering around from time to time and strong lights emitted from the cemetery in the dark nights. Tito Rojas says municipal inspector NAZCA: ((in the third month of February (February) 1972, I left to "the Karbonera Bamba" near the cemetery, and central vacuum surrounding the appalling scene, I saw a metal object hovering over the graves, and was soon out This body of the metal being short and missed the graves, and only a short moment until the man disappeared and metal object in the sky Alia)) He adds Ankhami Anibal, who works in a workshop to build roads in southern Peru, saying: ((While I was driving my car of the night I saw the light, like lightning is insane speeds of up to hit the ground and covered the grave "Chaohiea the entire", and after a few moments of the graves began emitting strong lights and strange objects appeared similar to the cartilage, approaching from the graves very quickly ... I felt great horror , And tried to flee to my car quickly. Engine stopped, but why not as if these foreign objects which disappeared after a few minutes wanted me to be a witness to what happened)). He continues his friend Adolfo Bniavil saying: ((none of us can deny the existence of these strange lights, it saw dozens of citizens on many occasions, and there are a number of certificates stored in the municipality of NAZCA confirming the reality of these observations, which led to a series of investigative journalist And police dismantle this great mystery, and a series of investigations by archaeologists escorted sophisticated. But all these efforts have not yielded anything positive, which made the local population ask the following question: If the scientists are able to lift the puzzles that occur outside the circle right back Air and know more details about the moon and Mars, how, if unable to explain puzzles that hide Nchaouciya cemetery?

Do I read your thoughts defy?

First challenge: When the pressure on the image of the skull head on your right, select No. between you and you do not write, with the help of Qrenk Saarafh inevitably .. not deluded that it correctly When choosing numbers Ask him, or put your No. 5 and No. Four, and then select the image output and the final No.'ll tell you the Of simplicity, I chose number 36, which is composed of two? After that I shall put the number 36 from No. 6 and No. 3 because they have two components, thus output is 36-3-6 = 27 now select from the list when the pressure on the skull above the paintings, Elly is the product .. welcomed a 27 and Little Boy, I know Elly Alsmp moment I thought of you, but check? If delayed welcomed No. knew also welcomed the computer you write a line there? Does not ask me how? Because I simply Read your thoughts, and I hope you are not afraid and complement Mtabhp site, and I appreciate what I Athaddak know any paintings choose, Valshr world with a mysterious art Click on the second challenge the skull, and now Sithaddak Magician Copperfield himself, once viewed, run deep and are Baklk Be? Overall, I'm the strongest and weakest You! That I defy! To overcome Copperfield When not challenging? Click on the skull and carried out what you? , Which is that you will be about 5 or six papers or papers distress name packs, or any term of your country, You are important to chose only one of them, a strongly-A'sam and control of your thoughts and know what you choose to remove you from among all the papers before you? But to say he did not succeed? It is impossible? Because it is impossible that your wrong way? But which you will have missed? I now leave you with the second challenge, and remind you here, the location of death road, where uncertainty and the world lost!, Witchcraft and the other world, and the soul here, and you Bjsdk written,

Vahdhir you do not play with me? Or joked with you? And ambiguity without borders

GECKO! GECKO!

In downtown New York, at a somewhat trashy apartment, there lived a man named Howard. He was a young man, in his mid-twenties, and had a terrible fear of cockroaches. Well if you've been to New York, and maybe live or stayed in a rundown hotel, you know how many cockroaches there are. Too many to count!

Howie had just come home from work and was looking for a bit of relaxation. All he wanted to do was get a bowl of ice cream, sit down and read the newspaper. He started raiding the messy cabinets and sink to look for a bowl and a spoon. He found the bowl, got out the ice cream and opened a drawer to get the spoon when, Surprise!! Out jumps a big juicy cockroach. After jumping twenty feet in the air and grabbing a spoon out of the drawer, he sat down to calm himself. "God forsaken roaches!" he yelled, while slowing his heartbeat, just as another cockroach crawled between his feet. " There's got to be something I can do to get rid of them." Just then, as he was getting his ice cream and reading ads in the paper, one specific ad caught his eye. "Got Roaches? We have a solution! Come down to Sam's Pet Club today and get yourself the natural predator of the roaches, a Gecko!"

"What in the world?" Howard thought. He read on: "That's right! A gecko! Follow the directions below to get your very own live cockroach eliminator! Then ask our friendly staff how to care for and what to do to get rid of your cockroaches." "Ya right. That gecko will probably eat me while I sleep." he said as yet another roach scuttled across the floor. He felt sick. He thought it was worth a try, so the very next day he followed the directions on the ad to the pet store.

He asked about the geckos and the staff told him what to do with a gecko and how much they were and, soon enough, he was driving home with his very own gecko. "Great," he thought "yet another little critter that is going to be loitering around in my house."

He got home and did just as the woman at the store told him to do, and let the gecko go. He saw the gecko run under the refrigerator after the nearest cockroach it saw. "Well, at least he is doing his job." he said after he heard the loud "GECKO, GECKO," sound that geckos make when they swallow.

Days went by, and Howard saw fewer and fewer roaches. He didn't like the gecko running around his house all the time, but what's one gecko to a thousand roaches? He shrugged it off, and tried to suck it up. One thing he did do, however, was close the door before he went to bed. But no matter what he did, somehow the lizard always got into his room.

One day after work, he was getting some dinner when he saw the gecko chase one of the last cockroaches on the house under the refrigerator. He saw the cockroach scurry under it with the gecko far behind struggling to go under. That's when Harold realized. It was getting bigger. That night he did everything he could to keep the Gecko out of his room. He fell into a deep sleep.

All the police found the next morning was a small stain on the bed that looked like blood. They searched everywhere in the house for Harold after a worried neighbor herd a slight scream and a haunting "GECKO, GECKO," that morning, but no one could find anything. No Harold, No Gecko, No cockroaches, nothing. They left that house confused and wondering, never to see Harold again. The only place they didn't check was under the bed, where the gecko was - big as ever, and full at last.

Submitted by: Constance, TN, USA

THE LEGEND OF BETSY BEAUMONT

This story is an old tale that's passed on from scout to scout at a Boy scout camp out in the boondocks of Missouri.
This tale tells of a young woman, Betsy, who was married to Joe (I have no recollection to the acutely name of him) Beaumont.
Betsy apparently had dreams of being a great singer and hoped to make into the lime light some time in her life, that dream was cut short. She was driving down a country road one day when a deer wandered out into the middle of the road, she had no time to avoid it. The crash was fatal to say the least, Betsy was horribly mangled and was only recognized by the distinctive ring her husband had bought her for their first anniversary. Joe was grief stricken and moved out into the country and started a camping ground and estate called Beaumont.

After Joe died he left his estate to the Boy scouts of America. Betsy never liked boy scouts much. People say Betsy's spirit still wanders around the park, catching and mangling any unfortunate scout who makes the mistake of getting in her way. If you see her what your supposed to do is take a good look at her eyes, if they are blue, she is in a good mood and probably won't even notice you, but if they are any shade of red or orange, she's angry and that's when you should be scared. There are many stories of children going into the mess-hall late at night for a snack and all that is found of them in the morning is a few bloody body parts, if anything, this is because Betsy has a taste for scouts. Betsy also likes to practice her singing voice late at night and some nights you may wake up to her wails and shouts. It is said that if you are to close to her singing you will go deaf or the noise will kill you. Also Betsy doesn't like any one commenting on her singing voice and will horribly maim you or kill you so you can never do it again. So if you ever hear her singing it is best to just remain silent and pray.

Well that's the story as it was told to me and I would welcome any other version if you know them or if you have had any experiences with her.

Submitted by: Simon, MO, USA

THE DARK CORRIDOR

The whole, frightening experience began at around 5 O’clock on the evening of the 23rd of December 1969. The chill night air was biting and the last remnants of day were creeping over the horizon. The thought of spending another night away from home, away from the comfort of the family over the festive period would be enough to fill most with melancholy and yet, here in the Wayfarer’s Inn, there was not the slightest feeling of loneliness. Quiet contentment appeared to be shared by all of the residents. Jonathan Harper was a travelling sales representative. Nothing too much could be said about him except that he gave the impression of someone uncomfortable with the thought of Christmas alone. If there were anything that left one to assume he was not part of the crowd, this would be it. Otherwise he was no different to anyone else in the inn.

Outside a thick, cloying mist rolled in off the hills spreading icy tentacles across everything in its path. It wouldn’t be too long before the landscape were covered in a heavy, white coat of frost. The residents knew that they would be here for some time - transport to these far outreaches was, at the best of times, limited and as for their own vehicles, parked in the yard around the back of the inn, no one was going to risk driving in these conditions - no one with any sense that is.

The Wayfarer was a small Inn, only ten rooms; each one bijou but welcoming; yet it exuded a warmth that was easy to comprehend. This hotel, deep in the English countryside, offered a respite for the exhausted traveller. The site of a lonely inn, lights glowing like a beacon to the lost, would act as a welcome break for the weary.

Sat in a comfortable, wingback, leather armchair Jonathan mused over the day’s business. He had completed a successful mission into Scarborough and his company would reap the benefits of these labours with a healthy contract, sure to earn them a huge amount of money over the coming year. Jonathan took a sip of brandy and looked into the comforting fire that was burning brightly in the fireplace beside him. Thoughts of his family, the children opening expensive parcels on Christmas morning without him, left him with a small tear rolling down the side of his cheek; yet over the next few days he would have little more time to think of them - he would be too busy trying to survive.

It was about 5 minutes to 5 O’clock and he was almost asleep in his chair when he was approached by a cheery gentleman. Not too unusual a man, except for his dress. His clothes seemed odd, out of place for the modern style of the day. Jonathan, avoiding comment, stood and introduced himself. He invited his fellow resident to take a seat opposite him. The man appeared a jovial sort, ruddy cheeks and a broad grin that Jonathan responded to straightaway: “I couldn’t see myself going much further in that”, he said, pointing to the atrocious weather outside, “I’m just glad that I found this place when I did” he added. “It’ll be here for a while, according to the Inn keeper. Says it often gets like this in these parts with it being so open to the elements” said the man. He held out a warm hand of friendship to Jonathan, “Henry Clement, or should I say Pilot Officer Henry Clement, DFC”.

The two men sat down, Jonathan thinking it rather strange that his guest should introduce himself in such a way. It was a little unusual for people, in his experience, to introduce themselves twice, once to affirm military status. “Perhaps he assumes I am a military man too”, he thought to himself.

“Come far?” the gentleman asked.
“London - Kensington to be precise. I was hoping to get back home tonight but when I saw the fog was getting worse I phoned the wife to say I’d find somewhere to stay for the night and be home tomorrow,” Jonathan replied.

As soon had the words left his mouth he felt taken over by doubt. Was it the expression on the gentleman’s face? Was it the fact that the weather was that bad? Was it even, the thought that facing Christmas ‘alone’ somehow appealed to his sub-conscious? No specific reason occurred to him, he just sensed doubt. In any way the feeling of contentment, of comfort, in the company of Henry somehow appealed more than the prospect of leaving the safety of this place. Being with his family on Christmas day may still be possible if the fog lifted in time.

For a while the two men continued in deep conversation, occasionally laughing, occasionally arguing, but in all, remaining friendly with each other. It was apparent that his guest had been a serving officer during the Second World War, originally flying missions across Germany in the reconnaissance corp. before joining the mission to ‘Arnhem’ as a pilot transporting the parachute drop safely to their destination. Jonathan was fascinated. Such tales of heroism were often seen on the television yet here he was, listening to every aspect of a life as a pilot during this daring time.

“I haven’t so much as been involved in the boy scouts”, he told Henry, “And here you are, telling me all about a time I could only be in awe of. Well here’s to you, Henry”, added Jonathan, raising his glass. His companion gratefully accepted the plaudits.

Several hours had passed before both gentlemen chose to draw the evening to a close. Tiredness had encroached upon them without notice as they yawned almost in unison, neither having any idea how long they had been in conversation, except to say that several drinks had passed their lips and further chatter would result in either or both falling asleep where they sat.

Bidding his guest a good night, Jonathan moved slowly to gather his things. Since his arrival he had neglected to check into his room - he was told that it would have to be prepared as he was an unexpected, but never-the-less very welcome guest.

The gentleman at reception had a somewhat ‘odd’ appearance. The more he thought about it the more he noticed that his clothes resembled those of a similar period of dress to that Henry appeared to belong. He began to look around the whole reception area, at various objects, at the pictures on the wall behind the clerk, at the telephone exchange in the corner, everything reminded him of the 1940’s. Jonathan hadn’t noticed it before, but now the whole place appeared decked out as if in a bygone era.

“Excuse me?” he asked “I feel as if I have walked into some kind of themed Hotel, do you collect memorabilia at all?” A puzzled look upon the clerk’s face told him that this was not worth pursuing. “Perhaps he’s not the conversational type,” Jonathan thought to himself, contenting himself with the prospect of a warm bed and a peaceful night’s sleep.

On entry to his room he noticed that the theme downstairs carried on here too, however he was too tired to think about it any further. After turning on the bedside light and settling down his bedclothes he stepped into the bathroom for a quick wash and returned to the warm bed in anticipation of a comfortable night’s slumber. A few moments later and he was fast asleep - the rigours of a hard day’s work finally taking its toll.

It was approximately 2 am when Jonathan was disturbed by a knocking at his door. Rising from a heavy sleep, his eyes still not settled enough for him to turn on the lamp at the side of his bed; he wandered across to the door. On opening, the site of smoke rising from the corridor, in the direction of the stairwell gave cause for alarm. Calling out for whoever knocked at his door he suddenly became aware of a droning noise emanating from above. Within moments, the person responsible for waking him had returned. He couldn’t see the owner of the voice for smoke. “You’d better make your way downstairs to the lobby. We’ve been hit”.
“What?” cried Jonathan in astonishment, “You say, ‘we’ve been hit’?”
There was no reply. The disembodied voice had already made its way down the corridor, warning other residents to vacate their rooms. Jonathan followed his fellow guests safely making his way downstairs.

The lobby was crammed full with residents, so much so that chaos reigned. Nobody stood out as knowing what was going on as Jonathan searched for his friend, Mr. Clement. He was nowhere to be seen.

Grabbing at the desk clerk he asked him for some answers. “I can’t tell you much”, the clerk replied, “Except to say that we’ve been hit.”
“Hit? Hit by what? What do you mean, we’ve been hit?” Jonathan asked again, once more to be thwarted by the clerk. Nothing could explain the smoke and there did not seem to be any damage that would add weight to being ‘hit’ by anything.

Jonathan had almost forgotten about the droning noise he had heard earlier when he was still upstairs, rushing around the corridor looking for the stairwell. On deciding to ask one or two of the other guests if they had heard it too he was surprised by their response.
“That’ll be the bombers flying overhead. They’re always around at this time of night” one cried out. Another said one might have crashed on its way back home.
“On its way back to where? Where’s home? Jonathan asked, curious to know what this was all about. “Is there some kind of airbase near here? Is this a flight path for aircraft?” he questioned further; nobody offered any more information. They all appeared too concerned with themselves to give him any answers.
At that moment, a rather dishevelled and bloodied gentleman entered the building. His head was adorned with a leather cap and flying goggles. Thinking it rather strange that anyone would be flying on an evening such as this Jonathan overlooked the man’s injuries. There was something else peculiar about this chap, a familiarity about him that he couldn’t quite place. “If I’m not mistaken”, he thought, “I’ve seen his face before”. Within moments there was sudden rush of guests towards the man, each one offering assistance and subsequently disturbing Jonathan’s concentration.

“Quick, someone help the gentleman to a chair. He looks as if he’s been in the thick of it”, shouted the desk clerk. Standing in amazement, Jonathan realised something was not right here and he intended getting to the bottom of it, though he would have to wait until the morning, as the main concern was the comfort of this apparent victim of an accident.

Running to the bar Jonathan grabbed a glass, filled it with brandy before taking a swig himself and then took the remainder over to the bewildered patient.

“It came at me, straight from nowhere. I tried you know, I tried!” the mystery man mumbled.
Jonathan could not make head or tail of what he was muttering about. “Poor fellow, he must be deluded”, he thought to himself. “Whatever it was that had happened outside must have given him a shock and he’s confused”. Within moments the man had fallen into an unconscious state. Efforts to bring him round again proved fruitless; he was out for the count.

Checking on his safety, the clerk advised that the gentleman be given breathing space, whilst he felt for a pulse. With a sigh of relief, he realised that the patient would be likely to recover after some much needed rest. Putting the man’s feet onto a stool he proceeded to call out to the other guests for a blanket. Someone with forethought had already arranged for this and it subsequently was laid across the patient in order that he remain warm while he slept comfortably.

Gradually, the chaos died down and everyone began making their way back to their rooms. Jonathan following suit, felt quite confused by recent events. He was determined to find out what had happened that night but this was no time to ask.

Leaving the clerk to deal with the mystery gentleman Jonathan retired to his bedroom once more, still puzzled by the poor chap’s condition and the reasons for such. He took one final look out of his window to see if there was anything that could satisfy his curiosity but all he saw was thick, thick fog and a white landscape. Nothing else could be gleaned by further enquiries that night so, resolving to sort things out in the morning, he decided to get some much-needed sleep; it would be a long day tomorrow. Jonathan hoped he would be able to travel home for a family Christmas. The fog would make travel difficult but he was determined to make it home.

The weather conditions for Christmas Eve had not improved any. In fact, if anything they had become increasingly worse since the previous evening. Pulling his curtains apart, Jonathan noticed that where he could see the white carpet covering the surrounding countryside the night before, this morning visibility was almost down to zero. There was no way he could travel under these circumstances at all. “It would be incredibly stupid to set off in this”, he murmured to himself.

Once Jonathan had carried out his daily ablutions and dressed himself he made his way downstairs, determined to call his wife and advise her of the dangerous conditions and to tell her that he would try again later that day if things improved.

On the stairwell, crossing his path was Jonathan’s friend of a few hours, Henry Clement. “What was all the fun and games about last night then?” he asked.
Henry stared for a moment in bewilderment, almost as if he hadn’t met Jonathan the previous evening, before replying that he had no recollection of what was being asked of him. “The crash!” said Jonathan. “Last night there was some kind of accident and a gentleman was rescued. He’s probably still downstairs at this moment. I must say the poor man looked in an awful state”, he continued “I suppose they couldn’t raise you up last night so you probably missed it all. Quite a commotion, I’d say”
Again Henry stared blankly into his face. Now Jonathan was beginning to feel rather uneasy about his friend. “Henry, It’s Jonathan, we met yesterday evening, do you remember?” he asked, puzzlingly.

Without wishing to appear absent minded or ignorant, the distinguished gentleman acknowledged his companion and in an attempt to avoid embarrassment responded, rather wishing to save awkwardness on both accounts. “Of course. Yesterday! I remember. Of course you’ll have to forgive me, I may have drunk a little too much and that’s when the memory plays up, isn’t it? You’re the gentleman that erm… that erm…” said Henry, gracefully covering his ignorance. “Jonathan. Jonathan Harper”, he affirmed. “I’m sorry, I should have realised that you have probably just woken up. “Nonsense. Not at all”, said an apologetic Henry, “Perhaps we can meet up in the bar later? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to my room”, he added. And with that, Henry marched off in the appropriate direction. Once again, Jonathan felt overcome by confusion. “I could have sworn he didn’t recognise me”, he thought to himself, continuing his way down the stairs to the lobby.

Jonathan’s search for a telephone took him to an old fashioned booth at the far side of the reception area. In a fashion, this didn’t seem out of place; especially with the other furniture in the inn, but again it was not something he was accustomed to. However, his only thoughts were whether he could get through to his wife to inform her of the current situation.

Eagerly Jonathan dialled the number… 01 984 7325… “Hello operator, which number are you calling?” said a voice at the other end of the line. He hung up immediately. Calling the number twice more he received the same response. “Hello operator, which number…?”
“How odd!”, he exclaimed. Dialling once more he allowed the operator to continue before he answered her. “Yes, I’d like to place a call to London 984 7325 if I may?” he asked.
“I’m sorry sir, that number is not available”, came the reply. “May I ask who are you trying to reach?”
Nervous panic began to manifest itself in his speech as he passed details of his home address to the operator. “I’m trying to reach my wife, Mrs. Cathy… Catherine Harper, 94. Whiterush House, K… Kensington, London”.
Immediately the operator responded, “I have no such person listed at that address sir. Are you sure that you have given me the correct address?”
Jonathan was getting quite irritated by the operator’s inability to locate the correct telephone number. “It’s my home address and I should know where we live. Good God, we’ve lived there since ‘66”, he yelled back down the line. Red faced with anger he demanded that the operator try the number once more. She was having none of it. “Sir, the number you wish to call doesn’t exist and the address which you gave me does not list Harper as the subscriber and is not the number you have given me” she responded firmly. Panic, beginning to get the better of him, he slammed down the phone with such a bang that the noise attracted the attention of the desk clerk who was not amused by Jonathan’s behaviour. “Mr. Harper, may I remind you that our other guests may need to use the telephone?” Immediately Jonathan responded. “Well why can I not seem to get through to my home to call my wife? The operator keeps telling me that our address doesn’t exist. What’s going on here?”
“Perhaps the line is down sir and the operator can’t get through. The fog sometimes has that effect; causing problems with the telegraph cables. It may be better to wait until later in the day, try again then”, the clerk advised. “In the meantime, would you like anything else?” Stunned into silence, Jonathan just stood, staring at the clerk, as if he had just been informed that his dilemma with the operator was not all that important.

After a few moments Jonathan moved towards the stairs, muttering as he clambered up each step. “I can’t believe this place, what the hell is going on here?” he thought, his blood beginning to boil over. Deciding to do a little bit of finding out for himself he made up his mind to have a word or two with his friend Henry. “He may be able to provide me with some answers” mused Jonathan. On reaching the door of Henry’s room he knocked loudly. “Hello!” a voice called from within.
“It’s Jonathan Harper. I would like to have a word with you about something if I may?”
The same jovial, ruddy-faced gentleman opened the door to him. “Can I help you?” he asked. Once again, Jonathan’s friend appeared oblivious as to who he was. “We met yesterday, in the bar area, don’t you remember me?” cried Jonathan, desperate to find some familiarity. “You talked about your days as a pilot in the reconnaissance corps: The parachute drop over Arnhem? What about the bombing raids in Germany? Please tell me you remember all of that?” he pleaded, his voice progressively rising in a fit of pique, almost screaming at the bewildered gentleman standing before him.
“My dear fellow, I have neither been to Arnhem nor do I know anything about a parachute drop you refer to”, said a stern faced Henry. “And even if I had I couldn’t possibly tell you about it, could I? Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of things to do and I would appreciate the time to get on with it. I have to be at camp for 1600 hundred hours” he added impatiently.

An uncontrollable Jonathan forced his way into the room, grabbed at the lapels of Henry’s jacket, held the man firmly in his grasp for a few moments whilst staring into his eyes before turning his attention to the jacket that his friend was wearing: A blue surge, Royal Air Force jacket of the type worn during the Second World War. It was adorned with various badges, each representing something or other. Jonathan had a limited knowledge of military awards, having himself served his time in the draft a few years previously but the one thing he didn’t recognise was anything resembling a DFC.
“I thought you were awarded a DFC?” he asked, releasing his victim for a moment. “I distinctly remember you referring to yourself as Pilot Officer Henry Clement, DFC. Where is your DFC?” Jonathan said, accusingly.
“You have to earn one before you can attach it to your uniform and as yet, I have not received such an honour,” replied Henry, attempting to reassure Jonathan of his status. Unconvinced, Jonathan again asked about Arnhem. How would he know so much about Arnhem and the landings if they had not taken place? How would he know about the parachute drop? Operation ‘Market Garden’? The hundreds of troops flown over for the offensive? The bombing raids on Germany? How could he possibly know of Henry’s involvement if none of this had taken place? He wanted answers and he wanted them now! “Tell me what is going on and what all this has to do with the Wayfarer’s!” he demanded.

“Listen to me”, said Henry, confronting Jonathan. “Whatever it is that is causing you to be alarmed has little to do with me. I don’t know how you know of any planned military action and I don’t care how you came by this information but for the sake of national security, please keep it to yourself and don’t talk about it again. I’ll tell you what you need to know and nothing more if you will just calm down and have a drink with me”. With that, Henry moved over to his chest-of-drawers and retrieved a bottle of malt from a drawer and two drinking glasses. Pouring a measure into each he returned to an armchair ushering Jonathan to be seated and began relaying the events to which Jonathan had referred.

A couple of hours past before Henry, looking at his watch, decided to wrap up the conversation. “Now you promise that this information will remain between the two of us? Nobody outside of Whitehall knows of these events and they wish to keep it quiet until they know how things play out. Any leak and you could jeopardise tonight’s flight”, he warned. Jonathan said nothing for a few moments before responding to his friend. “It’s almost as if you believe this happened recently”, he replied, questioningly. “That was all over 26 years ago”. Rising from his chair, he began to back out of the room, still staring at Henry, occasionally nodding his head from side to side in defiance of what he had heard and was expected to believe. “26 years ago, Henry!” he cried out once more, as he exited.

Needing to have a lie down in order to get his head together Jonathan made his way to his own room, still musing over what he had just heard. “The poor fellow is living in the past. Maybe that’s why he’s here, recuperating from some delusion” he thought to himself.

It was long into the night when Jonathan awoke. Realising that he must have drunk too much whiskey whilst listening to Henry and his strange tale earlier that afternoon, he looked at his watch - It was 1.50 am. He’d slept way too long for comfort and his poor wife would be at home in Kensington, fretting about why her husband had not yet returned home safely to her and the children. Strangely, there was a noise; a droning noise emanating from above. It was a similar droning noise to the noise that he had heard the previous night; only on this occasion he could hear screeching too. It sounded like nothing Jonathan had heard before. Leaping from his bed he ran towards the window and pulled at the curtains. Nothing could be seen except a faint ball of light, something on fire perhaps and it was getting brighter by the second, its angle of elevation dipping downwards.

Suddenly Jonathan was aware something was happening; somehow he knew this mystery object was going to crash into the Wayfarer’s and he had to get out and quickly. Grabbing at his coat and suitcase lying by the side of his bed he hurriedly made his way for the door. There was little light in the hallway but Jonathan was un-perturbed as he felt his way to the stairwell, dropping his coat as he stumbled down the corridor. The droning noise was getting louder and the building had now started to shake. He had to get out fast and stopping for his coat was not a priority, or it wouldn’t have been if his car keys weren’t in the pocket. Jonathan had to turn back and pick them up. As he felt his way along the ground for the overcoat the noise from above became almost deafening. The walls were vibrating rapidly and pictures began falling from their hooks to the floor. Jonathan realised there was little time, if he didn’t make his escape now he would surely be caught in the middle of it all. The glass from the picture frames crunched beneath his shoes but he knew that unless he could get outside to safety, small cuts to his feet would be the least of his worries.

Jonathan tripped over each step as ran down the staircase, stumbling over objects that had fallen from the walls, catching his feet in the ill-fitting carpet. He eventually found the reception area. The droning was unbearable and now it appeared to be joined by a high pitch screaming or whining noise, like that of engines in high revs. He knew he had only seconds to find the exit and get outside. A clock in the reception area began the chiming of the hour as he found the doorway leading outside into the car park. Looking into the night sky Jonathan could see swirls of fog parting under the pressure of heat and flame as suddenly, the cockpit of an aircraft loomed clear through the mist. There was little time to recognise anything about the plane heading straight for the building he had just escaped from, except that it was big. Within seconds all around had became a huge ball of flame as the two objects, aircraft and building, met in a flurry of hurling brick, metal and burning debris. Diving onto the grass below his feet Jonathan covered his head with his hands and began praying. Praying for those still inside, the pilot and his crew and most of all, for his own safety.

The searing heat caused by the blast proved too much for Jonathan as he drifted in and out of consciousness. In the moments when he was aware he could just make out people running, some with buckets in hand, others with blankets, each one trying to douse the flames as they attempted to take control of the building. One whole side of the Wayfarer’s appeared to be gone, or was it just the smoke and fog? Jonathan tried rubbing his eyes in order to get a better view. No! It was indeed gone.

Wearily standing to his feet Jonathan surveyed the wreckage. What looked like a bomber aircraft was lying in flames at the rear of the Inn, its wing and engine on the right side missing from the main fuselage. It became apparent that the wing had parted company with the rest of the aircraft and collided with the back of the building causing a wall to fall away. He was lucky; if he had remained in his room he would surely have been dead by now. Gathering his thoughts he was alert enough now to realise that people inside must need help.

In the lobby Jonathan saw utter chaos as people were running in all directions trying to help each other or assist in some way with the clearing away of debris. Nobody had time for the full affects of the situation to get the better of him or her, they all co-operated fully with the desk clerk as he gave polite but firm orders. He had assembled the remaining guests in the lobby whilst he completed a thorough search of the building.

When all had calmed down inside and out people began to relax and take in the situation. Nerves gradually began to creep in with some of the female residents as they sought solace with their partners or other friendly guests. The clerk returned, grim faced as he recounted the damage to the back of his Inn. “Two rooms have completely gone; seven and nine. I’m sorry but there is no sign of any survivors at all” he said mournfully. Jonathan immediately recognised room nine as being his room. “I’m here”, he called out, “Room nine, that’s my room. I believe room seven was Mr. Henry Clement”, Jonathan added. Strangely, nobody responded to him. Again he informed the clerk. Again nobody responded to him. Jonathan manoeuvred himself in to a better position in font of the desk clerk in case, over all of the noise, he couldn’t be heard. “I am in room nine and Henry Clement is room seven”, he shouted once more. The clerk stood unresponsive, blankly looking straight through Jonathan. “I think Mr. Clement was in room seven but room nine was empty, I’m sure of it”, said the clerk working through his memory of the register of his guests. “Though Mr. Clement would have been due at camp this afternoon so I presume he’s safe”. he continued.
“This is absurd!” cried Jonathan, “I’m here, Jonathan Harper, standing right in front of you. I’ve been in room nine since I arrived, the day before yesterday. What the hell’s going on?” Still the response he was looking for didn’t come. He looked around the lobby at the rest of the guests; they too appeared not to notice him standing in front of them.

Suddenly, Jonathan was overcome by fear. If nobody saw him that meant he wasn’t there. If he wasn’t there, in front of them, he must be… dead! “But I can’t be!” he screamed. “I got out! I got away! I was outside when the plane hit the building I tell you!” His normal self-control had departed him as he ran furiously around each of the guests trying to attract their attention, as if in defiance of his slowly evolving conclusions.
“Harper?” a voice called out from behind. “Harper, you’re here”. Jonathan turned sharply to see his friend, Henry Clement standing in the doorway of the inn. “You made it then?” he added.
“Henry, you can see me? Then I’m here? Alive?” Jonathan queried. “Tell them all that I’m here, they can see me”, he pleaded. He turned his attention back to the other residents and the desk clerk. “You see! I am here. What the hell is the matter with you all?” Still, his ranting went unobserved by his fellow guests.
“They won’t hear you Harper. They won’t see or hear either of us”. Said a woeful Henry. “I’m afraid that we both went down with the plane. I managed to hold on for a minute or two in an attempt to steer her clear but you’d already gone”.
“What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t in that plane. I couldn’t have been, I was outside the building when I saw it crash”. Said Jonathan, imploring his friend to see sense.
“You were thrown clear by the impact, Harper”, replied Henry, “That’s how you ended up outside”
Jonathan continued to argue his corner. “I am a travelling sales representative and I arrived here on the 23rd. I have nothing to do with you except that I met you in the bar” Henry immediately responded. “Harper, you didn’t have a room here. You remained at the station with the crew. I only came here on the 23rd to get some rest while my billet was being repaired. You were never here!”

Gradually, Jonathan ran through the events of the evening of the 23rd in his head: He hadn’t received a room key on arrival at the Wayfarer’s, as the room was not ready for him. All of the furniture and décor was not contemporary to 1969, neither were the clothes the guests were in, especially Henry. The operator hadn’t been able locate his address or telephone number the previous morning. She didn’t even recognise his name. Henry didn’t recall the conversation they had over drinks at the fireside or even, that he knew him at all. All of these anomalies started to fix themselves clearly in his mind. But wait. There was something! Something had actually happened to him that could not be explained. During the business with the telephone the desk clerk actually spoke to him. “No he didn’t. He spoke to someone but it wasn’t you, Harper”. Said Henry.

The stark realisation of what had occurred steadily seeped through into Jonathan’s head. He was never going to see his wife and children again. How could he, as they had never happened? He wasn’t a travelling sales representative; he was apparently a co-pilot in the RAF under the command of Henry Clement, DFC as yet to be.

“But how did I end up here, at the Wayfarer’s?” Jonathan asked Henry.
“Quite simple, my dear friend. This is our main flight corridor for Germany. Something must have caught us off guard and we were hit. This particular corridor avoids all of the towns and villages in the area and was deemed the safest path over to Europe”, Henry informed his colleague. “As to how you are involved? Well, let me tell you. A driver, in a hurry to return home to his family at Christmas time finds himself in a thick fog; so thick that it becomes an unbearable nightmare trying to continue onward. Suddenly, from out of the mist, a light looms. It appears to be a safe haven for the weary motorist, the Wayfarer’s Inn. Not listed on any map for over 26 years, it was destroyed by a returning bomber crashing into it, yet here it was. A cheery welcome is accorded the traveller and the promise of a comfortable night. Naturally, the traveller accepts this luxury of avoiding possible peril in such horrendous conditions. Snugly relaxing in an armchair by the side of an open fire, the gentleman begins to reflect upon Christmas with his family. Was it, after all, going to be an enjoyable time spent with the children? They always find time to fight over something, don’t they? Perhaps the thought of the relatives dropping in caused the gentleman concern - either way, he wasn’t really looking forward to getting home, was he?”
“A welcoming face appears offering warm, friendly conversation. The traveller gratefully accepts the opportunity to converse with someone who is not part of his family. He has, by now, already made a subconscious decision to remain here. All that was left for him was to have the desire to find a resolution to the strange events that were unfolding before him. He began to doubt his reality and started to accept another. Once you make the decision to peep into an alternate reality it slowly becomes your reality and what is becomes what was. The events of the 23rd of December were very genuine but you looked a little too deep and for you and myself, and all of the guests here tonight, let this be a warning to other voyeurs of the past”.

The light gradually began to fade on both Jonathan and Henry as they continued their conversation. In the distance the sound of a radio could be heard. The interference was strong at first but became clearer as the light faded.
“Sierra one, seven. We’re at the scene. Abandoned vehicle. It looks like the driver lost the car in the fog and came off the road. Can we have a recovery team?” the voice on the radio said. “Incident call-out time logged as 2 am on Wayfarer Road. No sign of the driver, may have wandered into the fog for assistance”.

SUBMITTING YOUR STORY

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My Ghost Story - The Old Man In Our House

When my husband and I moved into our house, I began “seeing things” out of the corner of me eye, like a shadow moving across a wall. My husband said it was probably a reflection of a car going past or a tree blowing in the wind. I noticed our cat wouldn’t go all the way down the hallway or into the bedroom at the end of the hall. If you picked her up and tried to carry her down the hall, she would fight to get away.

Our oldest daughter often came to visit and on one occasion asked me if I had ever seen anything strange in this house. I told her about the shadows and she said “Yes, I see them too”. One night while she was visiting, my daughter and I were watching TV and my husband had gone to bed as it was very late. The lamp on the table between our chairs was on and my small dog was laying beside me in the chair. He stood up and was looking toward the doorway, (wagging his tail like he was glad to see someone) when I saw a softball sized shadow run toward my chair, like a spider running across the floor. I instinctively lifted my feet and it disappeared under the chair. My daughter had seen it too and asked what that was. My dog jumped down, and stuck his nose under the chair, still wagging his tail. I looked under the chair and even moved it, but didn’t see anything. My daughter and I, though startled by this, talked how it was strange that we weren’t frightened by whatever we had just witnessed.

A few months later, while again watching TV, my husband had fallen asleep in his chair after eating supper and my dog was in his usual spot beside me in my chair. Once again he stood up looking toward the hallway, and was wagging his tail. I looked over at the hallway and saw what at first I thought was smoke, then realized it was mist rolling into the room. The mist stopped and began to take the shape of an old man, dressed in colonial garb. When I yelled at my husband, the old man disappeared. My husband said I must have fallen asleep too and dreamed it.

My husband never believed our daughter and I was seeing anything strange in this house until we had a contractor here measuring the family room for new flooring. After he was through taking measurements, he was standing in front of the hallway, giving us the information on the new flooring. Every so often, he looked over his shoulder and down the hall. He asked us if there was any one else in the house. When we said no, he said it was strange, but he could swear he saw an old man standing at the end of the hall. I spun around and said to my husband, “See? I told you so!” I told the contractor about seeing the old man and he too said he felt no fear in this house.

Shortly after this took place, my husband and I went to a Halloween party where there was a fortune teller there for entertainment. We didn’t participate, just watched and listened to him tell the other guests things about their life and themselves. Later that evening he approached me and asked me if there was something I wanted to know about in my house. I immediately assumed my husband had told him about what I had seen, so I told the guy my story. He in turn told me this spirit wasn’t going to harm us, but wanted us to know he was there. He also told me that now that I had seen this man, I wouldn’t be seeing shadows any more and that was true. To this day, I don’t see things out of the corner of my eyes and my cat now goes all the way down the hall and into the bedroom.

The Vampire Tour of San Francisco

Before, you read this article, I stand corrected by lady vampire Rhiannon. She sent me this email, correcting my article. Thank you for allowing the readers and I, to better understand the vampire culture. Here is her email in her own words:

"Thank you for sending this article. This is a very detailed and interesting piece, good work, but there are two problems I noticed, and you said we should point out to you any problems with what was written when we got this.

One was a misquote of what Cole said about blood drinking. You state that he said he drinks blood, but that is not what he said. Cole does not drink blood, but he did say that even vampires who drink blood rarely drink very much at a time, and sometimes only perhaps a teaspoon or two per feeding, maybe once in a month.

I will elaborate a little for you, since you forgot to ask us about it. This can vary, actually, from blood drinker to blood drinker, and some take more than the amounts he was talking about, just not usually. Some vampires, though it is the energy that they require, and not the blood its self, they feel that this is the only way they are able to connect enough to take from another person. I think they might be able to learn how to do it other ways, some like to do it both ways, since it is a very intense way to connect.

And since you were curious but didn't ask me, I will tell you that though what I usually take is energy, I do drink a little blood, but my blood drinking is only from two of my closest friends, both people I know are healthy and clean of infection, and have lifestyles that would not make them likely to contract things like AIDS, hepatitis, or other blood carried disease.

I am able to pull the blood through the skin in a very tightly concentrated area with my mouth, and this is good because I don't like the risk factor for scarring or infection involved with anything that breaks the skin. I take much more energy, more deeply in this way, but since this method is not required for me, I don't do it often.

The second thing I would ask you to be more careful about how you put is when you talk about us having fangs. You make it sound like we're walking around with theatrically huge pointed teeth, and claiming they are natural. In fact, our teeth might be considered subtly unusual (a thing I was careful to point out is something I think is purely coincidence), but they are well within the realm of normal length or sharpness for humans. People reading your article as it you have it now might easily get the impression that we have huge fangs, when really, they're just healthy teeth." -Rhiannon

Now, let's dive into my article, where I did some misquoting or did some misinterpretation, I apologize to Cole and Rhiannon.

Shannon McCabe, President of H.P.I. (Haunted and Paranormal Investigations) of Northern California learned about The Vampire Tour of San Francisco through Ricardo Pustanio of Haunted America Tours. Like I have said many times before, we investigate all things 'paranormal' and vampires are not an exception to the rule. September 29, 2007, Saturday, I headed over to Shannon's home and met up with fellow paranormal investigator Chris Grissom. The three of us were heading to San Francisco this day in Shannon's Ectoplasmobile aka Ecto 1, with Shannon driving. It was around 1:30pm when I arrived at Shannon's and she told Chris and I, we're going to pound flesh and hand out fliers at Sierra 2 Center and Curtis Park, where they were having a festival in the park. The fliers indicated that HPI is having a Halloween Bash at the Sierra 2 and the community was invited. So, that is what we did, introduced ourselves as HPI paranormal investigators and handed out fliers. After walking around the park for a good couple of hours, I heard my stomach growling, it was time to eat and head off to San Francisco. We got back in Ecto 1 and stopped at Shannon's favorite eating spot. AM/PM Mini Mart for hamburgers and hot dogs. Okay, maybe that's not Shannon's favorite eating spot, but the meal was a reasonable price and we weren't hungry anymore. Shannon treated Chris and I, to bottles of Starbucks ice coffee that she had in the trunk of the car. Now, that was a good pick me up.

Shannon, like a bat-out-of-hell, zoomed down Hwy 80 towards San Francisco and maneuvered through the streets of San Francisco with the experience of a street cop. We finally located a place to park and headed over to the elegant Hamilton Hotel to meet with our first vampire. As we waited for our first vampire interview, we dined on decadent spring rolls with shrimp and crab and chased down some Heineken and Anchor Steam beer. Then as I looked over to the left corner, I glimpsed a lady in black, it was our first vampire. She calls herself Mina Harker (a character from Bram Stoker's book Dracula). Her real name is Kitty Burns.

I learn all kinds of fascinating things about Kitty. She was actually a host at a vampire tour in Transylvania twice and once spent the night in Dracula's Castle. She hosted one tour with Eddie Munster aka Butch Patrick. She tells me how she once booked a vampire tour in New Orleans, during a business trip and wondered why San Francisco doesn't have a vampire tour in their own city. Then it dawned on her, she is a published playwright and why not start her own tour, she immediately started writing a script for the tour and has been giving the tour for 6 years now. She says the tour is more lighthearted and really doesn't dwell on the dark side of vampirism. It's more comedy than horror. I can just imagine that the script must have been pouring through her mind, while she cruised down the Mississippi River, when she made that business trip in New Orleans.

As I let Kitty talk, she discussed a very colorful character Emperor Norton and how no mortal could pull off printing his own money and collecting taxes from the people. She talked about James Flood, a successful businessman and how the vampire community loved him. In fact the vampire community learned how to start their own businesses through James Flood. We discussed various vampire clubs in existence around San Francisco and how people have embraced the vampire culture. Some of the vampires play the game Masquerade. Masquerade is a role playing vampire game. I mention to Kitty, that role playing games like Masquerade can sometimes get out of hand.

For an example:
A group of three teenagers were charged with the bludgeoning death of a Florida couple, parents of a fourth girl in their group. These teenagers were involved in the fantasy role playing game Vampire the Masquerade. Police said They "tortured puppies" and even "drank one another's blood." "Police said [the teens] were attracted to vampires by the best selling role-play game.

A Virginia Beach man was sentenced to 26 years in prison for sexually molesting [and biting] eight teen-age girls he [had] recruited for his vampire 'family' through the playing of "a game in which players assumed the roles of ancient vampires."

This is the dark side of vampirism that Kitty shuns and doesn't want to think about. It made me think, that everything seems to be a balance of Yin and Yang. There is the balance of good and the balance of evil. There will always be a balance of good and evil, it has been with us since the beginning of mankind and it will be with us to the end of days. Fortunately, this evening we are seeing the good side of vampirism through Kitty's eyes.

Kitty tells me that she dresses for the tour and wears a vampire costume of all black. Many Goths have taken her tour. She was approached once by a vampiress . The vampiress placed her hand on her shoulder and said "some of us really do exist darling."

Mina Harker, aka Kitty Burns, gets 15 to 30 people that take her nightly tour, at one evening she had 95 people show up! The vampire movies that Kitty loves are Abbott and Costello Meets Frankenstein, Interview with a Vampire (except that it was too bloody for Kitty's taste), Bela Lugosi's Dracula. She goes on to tell me that one time Kim Basinger took her tour and she didn't point out Kim to the crowd and just let her enjoy the tour. After the tour, Kitty approached Kim and said..."has anyone ever told you, you look like Kim Basinger?" Kim laughed and said..."yes, all the time!"

After I interviewed Kitty, I went over to the park across the street to interview two more vampires. Shannon introduced me to Cole and Rhiannon.

Cole states that when he was 17 years old, he had misconceptions on vampirism, he compared vampirism to what he watched from Hollywood movies, until he met a woman that explained to him what vampirism is really about, then he knew that true vampirism implied to his own persona. This is a woman he met at a Goth club. Rhiannon said she didn't realize it at first, but something was different about her, starting from what she felt in the 3rd grade. She felt other people's energy, she felt empathy for others, she could feel people's energy signatures left behind on objects, sort of like psychometrics. She could go past a school desk and feel the energy signature of the person that sat on that desk. Cole says that the scientific community needs to catch-up and discover what vampirism really is, it could be referred to as bio-deficiency syndrome as Cole likes to call it. Rhiannon says maybe vampires should be called energy absorbers. Cole elaborates and says that certain people as we call vampires, don't create enough energy within their beings and must acquire energy from others. Blood is a source of energy, some vampires may take their energy from ambient energy sources, like from a Black Sabbath concert, where there is a high abundance of energy. Rhiannon says she does better from one person, a willing host to her energy feeding. She and Cole can absorb energy from a touch and do not attempt to take energy from an unwilling host. The touch can last from 30 seconds to a minute.

Rhiannon, a lovely red haired vampiress tells me that she met Cole at a vampire oriented club called The Glass Cat. The Glass Cat was having a vampire ball. The Glass Cat is known to play electronic and industrial music. When Rhiannon met Cole, they knew they'd be friends for a long time to come.

I asked Rhiannon and Cole how they acquired their canines. Both have small fangs that stand out a bit more than usual, and they told me that their fangs are actually natural. Cole is a handsome young man, that wears a black trench coat, black shirt, black pants, black tie and has long black hair, he definitely looks the part of a vampire. These two were a pleasure to meet and I and HPI thank them very much for letting us into their world.

As the interview ended and I saw Rhiannon and Cole walk away, I remembered something that Cole had told me. He said that at times he takes in 2 or 3 teaspoons of blood. I forgot to ask him if that was human blood or animal blood and how does he acquire that blood? Does Rhiannon also drink blood? I was completely absorbed with the energy absorbing topic, I completely forgot about the consumption of blood. (Found in Rhiannon's email above.)

Well, it was time to move on as Shannon, Chris and a Berkeley journalist named Kevin Jones were approaching me. Kevin Jones was here to interview Shannon, Chris and I, about our ghost hunting. He has a show for the Berkeley University radio station called the Berkeley Radio Magazine.

As I was walking with Shannon, Chris and Kevin, I remembered how Cole told me that psychos are psychos as I questioned about the darker side of vampirism. Such as the serial killer Richard Trenton Chase, aka The Vampire of Sacramento. Cole also told me that he was aware of 10 true vampires in San Francisco and how vampirism is a condition. The reason why vampires wear black, is because black is an absorbent color. I talked about physical vampires, vampires that get their boost from the physical exertion of others, or sexual vampires, a person who goes from one partner to another, acquiring energy from their conquests. Cole tells me that in all cases, it's energy they are acquiring. To have sex, is exerting energy. To be physical as being pushed to do a lot of exercises, is exerting energy. I can only wonder if Army drill sergeants who push soldiers over the limits are energy vampires? I can only wonder again, if playboys like Warren Beatty who go from one conquest to another, are also energy vampires?

Cole and Rhiannon are two delightful people that enjoy life and Rhiannon's favorite vampire movie is Interview with a Vampire, while Cole enjoys the old Bela Lugosi's Dracula movies.

Vampires are everywhere. Right down the street from where I live, I have a vampire neighbor named Tremaine. He has silver plated vampire fangs. How Tremaine became a vampire is anyone's guess, he really doesn't discuss it, but he came from a family that was once associated with the Los Angeles Crips, his family is now disassociated with the Crips and live a descent suburbia life in Elk Grove. In HPI we have a ghost hunter named Carol Gillis that is a self-proclaimed vampiress. Also, in HPI another ghost hunter named Cherie Vincent embraces the vampire culture and has two vampire bite tattoos on her neck. Like I said, they are everywhere...

The SF Vampire Tour commences: Kitty takes on the character of Mina Harker. Mina Harker tells of falling victim to Dracula. She discussed Bram Stoker's book Dracula and elaborates her transformation of a living human being to a vampiress. There is black lining around her eyes, her skin is pale white, she wears a black cape and her outfit is all black. Mina carries a candleabra as she starts her tour. She discusses everything about an underground vampire culture that originates in Nob Hill, San Francisco. She blurs fiction with history as she talks about the following:

1. First Stop: The Grace Church. Mina talks about the battleship General Harrison and many ships that are part of the landfill that San Francisco is built upon. Beneath San Francisco are buried opium dens and brothels. That Hollywood has us snowed on what real vampirism is all about, that vampires can actually walk into churches. While Mina is talking about the graveyard of ships that San Francisco is built upon, towering behind us is the majestic Grace Church where once Charles Crocker lived on that land, before the church was built. Charles Crocker is the founder of the Crocker Bank. Mina discusses the Wall of Spite and the presence of skull and crossbones near the wall. How fires at the church were blamed on the vampire community and further discussions of Mark Twain residing in San Francisco and the colorful character Emperor Joshua Norton, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico and that the things that he pulled off, he couldn't have been a mere mortal, that he must have been a vampire to excel with the accomplishments during his reign. Some of those Norton accomplishments were making it a misdemeanor if anyone said the name 'Frisco' referring to the city of San Francisco. San Franciscans do not like the name Frisco and until this day, this misdemeanor is still in the law books. Mina connects Dracula to Emperor Norton and goes on to discuss a Masonic cemetery. She tells how the Bay Bridge may be renamed to the Norton Bridge.

As I surveyed the crowd, I came upon another HPI paranormal investigator named Hanako Zeidenberg. When Hanako lived in Sacramento, she participated in the 400 Capitol Mall Haunting Investigation. She now lives in Oakland and decided to see what the vampire tour is all about. Shannon and I, gave Hanako a big warm welcome hug. Hanako has been away from HPI since her move and Shannon tells Hanako, she is always HPI and is part of the family forever. Hanoko radiates a big beaming smile and I tell her about the Mt. Shasta UFO/Bigfoot Pre-Investigation that is coming up and she is interested in participating in this pre-investigation. I hope she does!

2. Second Stop: Nob Hill Cafe. Mina explains that Jack the Ripper (who she claims is a vampire) came to San Francisco and changed his name to Choker Barnes. She claims at the cafe, the greatest vampire vs. mortal battle happened, in which 20 people were killed. It was because that a vampire den was discovered at the cafe and since vampires are very secretive, they fought the mortals to retain that secrecy. Mina elaborates on another Hollywood myth and talks about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She says that Buffy can kill vampires with any type of wood, that this is an untruth. Vampires can only be killed with ashwood, the wood from the cross that Jesus Christ was crucified on. Mina says that San Francisco City Hall is the 2nd most haunted building in San Francisco and Alcatraz is the most haunted and takes the #1 spot.

3. Third Stop: James Flood's Home, which is now Pacific Union Club. Mina explains how the vampire community gave James Flood protection and security, because they respected his knowledge on business affairs. They also wanted to make James Flood a vampire and James stood up to the vampires and proclaimed that he came into the world as a mortal and is leaving this world as a mortal. James Flood had an underground tunnel from his mansion to his mistress house across the street. Some underground tunnels in San Francisco lead to brothers and clubs, Mina explains. When Mina entered James Flood's home one night, she heard an unearthly voice tell her 'it's true!' from a comment that Mina had made in the house. Mina talks about the comedian/ accused murderer Fatty Arbuckle and how he was associated with the St. Francis Hotel.

4. Fourth Stop: The Fairmont Hotel. Many movies were made at this hotel from Vertigo to The Rock. Prince Charles to Mick Jagger have stayed in this hotel as guests. The 7th Floor is reputed to be very haunted. It could be haunted by WWII soldiers that once stayed on that floor. A lady of the evening was murdered in the tower area of the hotel and a guest once saw the phantom of this murder victim as she laid on a 4 poster bed that no longer exists in the hotel, she was in a red teddy and actually talked to the guest. When the guest told hotel management, the management explained to him that they no longer have 4 poster beds in the room and when they went back to the room, there was no woman laying on a 4 poster bed in a red teddy. The guest was startled and realized he encountered the phantom of the murdered woman that night. The penthouse of this hotel is reputed to be haunted and Mae West's ghost is sometimes seen near the Penthouse. President Truman once stayed at the Penthouse. The lobby area of the Fairmont Hotel has a gorgeous staircase, this is where Gone with the Wind was filmed. Chris Grissom, HPI investigator, points out to Shannon "Ms. Macabre", that there was a figure in one of the darkened windows that peaked out at the crowd. Shannon saw the figure too, it was a head moving swiftly to the window and then moving back to hide. Chris and Shannon both thought this was quite odd. If it was a normal person, why wouldn't they just look normally from their window upon the crowd, why go back and hide behind the wall? Could this have been a phantom?

5. Last Stop: Mark Hopkins Hotel. During the last stop I was being interviewed by Kevin Jones about my own ghost hunting activities with HPI and didn't hear much about what Mina had to say about this magnificent looking hotel, and only gathered some information about 100 variety of martinis and the variation of martinis that is associated with this hotel.

The tour was fun and informative and Mina presented the information with enthusiasm and delight. As I was leaving the tour, I got a tap on my right shoulder. I turned around and a man dressed all in black asked me how I enjoyed the tour. I told him, it was a blast and wished it didn't have to end. He smiled and said that I have a lot more to learn about vampires. I asked him what his name was. With a hypnotic stare, he said 'Lee Stat' and walked backwards into the shadows. As I tried to follow his steps, he was no where around. As I rejoined Shannon and Chris, I thought about the name. Did he say Lee Stat or Lestat? Hmmmm.

After the insane day of vampire chasing Chris and I piled in Shannon's Ecto 1 and headed over to The Gold Cane on Haight Street and came upon Puppy, a guy we interviewed during the Haight Haunted Walking Tour. We talked with Puppy for a while, while Chris and I had a round of Jack and Coke. Shannon had to play the straight arrow, since she was driving Chris and I home. All three of us were getting tired and we rushed back to Ecto 1. Going to San Francisco, expenses gather and this is how I add things up for this trip.

Gas for Shannon's car: $20.00 Paul's pocket.
Parking for Shannon's car: $15.00 Chris's pocket.
Drinks at Hamilton Hotel: $20.00 Shannon's pocket.
Drinks at The Gold Cane: $15.00 Chris' pocket.
Midnight Snacks at McDonalds: $14.00 Paul's pocket.
The San Francisco Vampire Tour: Priceless!