An Alt-Experience Presentation

Entity: A Ghost Story

By Stone Bryson

The story I am about to tell you is true. I have no way to prove it, except by asserting that I really have nothing to gain from telling this story (if you rule out strange looks from friends and strangers alike, and I do not really need any more of those). I have told this story to few until now - and seldom in its entirety - because of the nature of it. I am doing my best to tell it exactly how it happened, within the spectrum of my recollections. You can choose to believe it or not - it is of no consequence to me one way or the other.

I have changed the names of all involved to protect the innocent.

Back in May of 1984 I was a very randy 17 your-old hound. I was the kind of guy who was used to having sexual relations with a girl within three hours of meeting her (hey - I said I was randy - I did not say I was a good person). During this month I was involved with a girl named Mary. She was attractive enough, but very cautious about whom she climbed into bed. I had dated her for a couple of weeks, which meant I was playing the understanding, patient guy… long enough eventually get into her pants.

It was at the beginning of the third week of dating Mary - a Tuesday, if I recall correctly - when this bizarre event transpired. It was probably around 10:00 PM at night, and I had just gotten off the phone with her. I was laying there on the couch I had in my room for about five minutes, trying to doze off, when I started to feel my body vibrate. It was as if someone had stuck a wire of low-level voltage into my foot and turned on the juice. This was a bit freaky, to say the least - in my mind, everything I understood about reality was being wrestled out of me.

After a few seconds of that, the feeling changed. Not only did my body continue to quiver, now it seemed all the oxygen in my lungs was being pulled out of me through my mouth. Along with that, my eyes were throbbing against my closed lids, as though some was attempting to suction them out with a vacuum. Once all of these sensations came together, I felt as though my essence - or soul, if you prefer - was being forcibly yanked out of my body through every orifice in my head.

Now, for you to understand my next move, you will need a tiny bit of background. I was a practicing Christian at that time (though not a very good one), but as a rebellious, unpopular teenage boy is apt to do I had also read a few books discussing the occult arts. Oh and for the record they were not those touchy-feely New Age tomes published by Llewellyn’s, either - they were based on the dark stuff.

With that noted, I was desperate to stop whatever was happening to me at that moment, so I firmly spoke a phrase I THINK I had read in a book - and the event stopped. I do not recall to this day what that phrase was, where I had read it, or why I chose to use it. I believe I evoked some Deity’s assistance; it could have been even from the Bible, for all I remember. The only thing I know for certain was that my body stopping vibrating when I spoke it, and within two or three minutes it returned to normal.

It was during that fourth minute after the event ended when I really got the shit scared out of me - the phone rang. I had one of the old-style dial phones that had an actual bell inside of it , so this thing was loud enough to wake the dead. Being wrapped in the silence of the room - and my reflections of what had just transpired - the sound of that phone ringing nearly gave me a heart attack.

I picked up the receiver, but did not immediately say hello - I was still getting my bearings a bit. Fortunately, I did not have to say anything right away, because Mary spoke as soon as the receiver got to my ear.

“Are you OK, Stone?”

Considering the fact I had said nothing to give her any impression that something was amiss - actually, I had said nothing at all as yet - I simply answered “yeah - why?”

She let out a long sigh of relief, and said, “OK - don’t freak out on me, but there is something you should know about me. I have a “spirit friend” - her name is Morgan - and she has been with me since I was a kid. Well, she had been away from me for while tonight, then she just showed up and told me that she had come to pay you a visit. Since I know she can be a bit jealous, I wanted to make sure you were OK.”

Oh, so that’s all it was - some sort of jealous entity. Well, how about that.

I talked with Mary for about another hour, gathering all the information I could. I let her know that something bizarre had happened to me between our two calls, but I did not go into very much detail (I did not know at the time why I had instinctively done this, although about a year and half later I would completely understand). Once I had chatted with her extensively about Morgan (the details of which are irrelevant to this article), I politely let her go for the night.

And I never called her again. Hey - I was 17 - I did not understand such things at that time . I was too stupid to grasp the difference between true love and obsessive lust.- how the hell was I supposed to understand ‘spirit friends’ and the like. Besides, she scared the crap out of me.

Fast forward to October 1985, nearly a year and half later. It was a Friday night, and my friend Rick and I were planning on going out to a teenage nightclub called JD’s. Places like these were popular with Missouri-stricken teenagers during the mid-1980’s - clubs that provided a generous-sized dance floor, music to get you out to said-dance floor, and tables to sit at while you drank sodas, smoked cigarettes, and met people. They only thing they did not do is serve alcohol, which made it perfectly legal for minors to enjoy.

Rick and I frequented this place nearly every Friday night, so we were well-known regulars. As we were getting ready out at his place, he came across a weird idea - “let’s switch duds for the night,” he said. I found this to be rather strange, not only because we were not women (guys - at least back then - generally did not exchange wardrobes for a night on the town; maybe this has changed with the whole ‘metrosexual’ thing going on) but also because our wardrobes where so different. He was very much into whites and pastels, while I generally wore blacks, grays, and dark maroons. I just was rather uncomfortable with the whole idea from the moment it came out of his mouth.

He sensed my resistance, and bore in, saying ,“c’mon, man, it’ll be cool. We’ll freak everyone out up there.” Well, Rick knew how to push the right buttons with me - one of the few things that could convince me to do something off-the-wall was the prospect of shocking people. So I agreed and, after getting ready, we took off for the club.

We had been at the club for about an hour-and-a-half when SHE walked in. See, the way the place was laid out it had the main dance floor right in the center of the club. Slightly elevated at the back of the dance floor - and directly facing the entryway - was a small stage area. Since we were regulars, we were usually able to carve out for ourselves a small portion of that stage for dancing purposes. We were able to see everyone who entered the club from that vantage point, so I had a clear view when SHE walked through the door.

By the way, SHE was not Mary. This woman was one of the hottest women I had ever seen - platinum blonde hair, make-up done to perfection (circa-1985, of course) and clothes that befitted a goddess. I could not help but stare at her, but what was even more stunning was that she stared right back at me… for a good two minutes straight.

I smiled to myself, thinking of the prospects. I had no idea what was REALLY in store for me that night.

After the song was over, my friends and I we went over to our table and sat down; I did not have to wait long for her to arrive. She introduced herself as Brigit and, after the initial awkwardness of meeting someone new passed, we began to converse about inconsequential stuff. After about an hour, Brigit and I decided to leave the club and take a drive. We were driving around town talking about something mundane when - quite out-of-the-blue - she says, “I know all about Morgan.”

I’ve only known one Morgan in my whole life. This can’t be good news, I thought to myself.

I feigned confusion initially, asking her, “who’s she?”

She then responded by saying, “you damned well know who she is. The entity that was a ‘spirit friend’ of a girl named Mary. The one who tried to pull your spirit out of your body through your eyes and mouth. The one that still haunts your nightmares from time to time. THAT Morgan!”

I was stunned, chilled, and overwhelmed. I asked, trembling, “OK - how do you know about that?”

“I have a patron who told me about her - and you. That same patron also told me that I would meet you tonight. She told me to look for a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

This was a bit spooky. See, as part of my ‘switching duds’ with Rick, I wore all white - the only time in my life I have ever done that. Considering the fact that my face - with the black hair and facial scruff - has caused some people to say I look a bit like Satan, the whole “wolf” persona seemed to fit. Put me in all white, and I suppose I could have been considered a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” that night.

Except none of this was possible, from my limited perspective. Then a very simple answer came to me. I asked Brigit, “so - I guess you know Mary pretty well, for her to tell you this happened to me?”

She smiled an almost angelic smile. “I don’t know her at all, but even if I did - how could she have told me that? You did not even tell HER about that part.”

I had forgotten about that.

I spent the next 15 minutes driving around in silence. To Brigit’s credit, she did not say a word, just let me process everything. After I finally came to accept what she had told me, I asked her, “Why did Morgan do that to me?”

Brigit did not miss a beat. “To be blunt, she was in love with you. She desperately wanted to be with you, in her dimension.”

I asked the question, wishing later hadn’t. “So how exactly was she trying to bring me into her dimension?”

Brigit answered without emotion. “Isn’t it obvious? She was trying to kill you.”
 

Copyright © 2006 Stone Bryson.  All Rights Reserved.

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