You have been led to believe that everything you have experienced isn't real, that there's
an explanation.
But what if they're wrong?
What if something reached out to you from beyond?
Let me tell your true stories.
Let me tell them until they all believe.
Hi guys, welcome back to Paranormal and Supernatural True Stories.
Today's true story, sent in by Eric, is just venomous.
Whatever this entity is, I hope to never run into one, or rather, I hope one of them doesn't
decide to take an interest in me.
You'll see what I mean.
Let's get into Season 1, Episode 8, The Wicked Shadow.
My name is Eric, and this instance occurred in 2011 in an unnamed state penitentiary that
I was employed at as a guard.
We worked long hours, and we all developed our own rapport with inmates.
Generally speaking, if they treated us with respect, a level of respect was shown back.
But we were still guards, and had to remember these guys were not our friends, and many
of them were dangerous.
One particular inmate seemed to dislike me.
Not all the guards, just me.
I never had issue with this guy.
Let's call him Mike, but he would give me death stares and cock his head while he stared
me down, as if trying to figure me out.
I had other inmates actually warn me of his intentions, and so when he made his move on
me, we were basically prepared, and he was sent to solitary for a week.
This is not a place you want to find yourself.
All bets for mutual respect were off if you were in solitary, especially if your infraction
involved attacking a guard.
So Mike spent his week in solitary, and when he came back, he was worse than ever with
me.
Whenever I was within hearing distance, he would cock his head, then say offensive things
to me, nasty sexual things about my girlfriend, and he got good at saying them when nobody
else could hear him.
And how did he know I had a girlfriend?
I had decided to not even pay an ounce of attention to him.
He would eventually either burn out, or find his way back to solitary.
I had no doubt, and I wasn't wrong.
He moved on, and Mike continued his verbal assaults until one night I found him dead
in his cell.
He had constructed a way to hang himself, and he left a note addressed to me.
I will not include word for word, but the gist of this note was that he hoped that I
would find him, and he hoped that my nightmares were about him.
He promised we would meet again.
Well, though disturbing, I absolutely would not have nightmares about his body.
Personally, I didn't care that he was gone.
I know, that sounds awful, however, you cannot relate until you work in the bowels of a prison.
I wanted to include this experience from my job as I truly believe it has bearing on the
rest of this story.
Now, we will switch gears and fast forward a few weeks into my personal life.
I was dating a single mom named Tara.
I could definitely see a future with her.
Her son Anthony, aged 9.
We got along great, and we spent so much of our time together.
I was basically living with her, but still had my own place, and we had not committed
to officially living together yet.
But here we were.
Anthony had some emotional issues that we were dealing with.
He had been diagnosed with explosive anger disorder, and it could be trying at times,
but for the most part, he was a great kid.
He seemed to love any attention that I would pay to him.
Anthony began having bad dreams at night.
He would scream and cry and say that someone was pinching him and wouldn't let him sleep.
We figured this may be just another way for him to get attention, but the bad dream seemed
real enough and we hoped that it was temporary.
This went on for about two weeks when one night he screamed and Tara ran in his room,
and she came back and said,
Come see this, hurry.
I ran to his room and he had his night shirt pulled up, and sure enough, there were what
appeared to be red pinch marks all over his abdomen.
There were a few bruises as well, and he said those were from the night before.
He said the boogeyman was getting meaner and would not leave him alone.
He begged me to find the boogeyman and kick his ass.
I did the whole room search thing, including the closet, and made sure he knew that all
was clear.
After he settled back down, Tara and I had a conversation.
It seemed that Anthony was now hurting himself for attention, and we were both very concerned.
She would make an appointment with his doctor as soon as possible.
The next day the doctor appointment was set, but he could not be seen for another two weeks.
They advised in the meantime that we spend a little extra time with him in the evenings
as a couple before bed, just to possibly appease him until he could be evaluated.
We agreed, and that night we had pizza and played a couple of board games.
We must have played them out because he asked when we could go to bed.
Tara and I gave each other knowing glances.
Seems to have done the trick.
After tucking him in and doing the boogeyman check, he fell asleep while Tara read to him.
We felt good about his nightly routine and was relieved that he would finally get some
sleep.
That night, around 1am, he woke screaming again and ran into our room before we could
get to him.
He said the boogeyman was back, and this time he said he was going to kill us all.
He was sobbing.
We were doing our best to comfort him as he sat on Tara's lap in bed staring at the hallway.
Then Anthony said, He's coming.
Sweetheart, he's not coming.
Everything is okay.
But, Mom, Anthony pleaded.
He grabbed me and I could tell he was going to hurt me.
Where did he grab you?
Tara asked.
He showed her his shoulder and sure enough, there was a reddish mark there.
It appeared to be a very large possibly handprint.
We both instantly had a look of concern.
Who did this to you, Anthony?
I told you.
The boogeyman.
Anthony, there is no boogeyman.
Now you tell me right now who he's here, Mom.
Anthony said and pointed to the door.
Just then, against a dim nightlight in the hall, we all saw a shadow.
But the shadow wasn't on the wall.
It was like it was a shadow figure unto itself walking into our room.
Actually it was more like gliding into our room.
We were all transfixed on the sight of it.
I snapped out of it and jumped from the bed to see what I could do, if anything.
The figure turned sharply towards me and I felt an impact on my upper and lower abdomen
that knocked the wind from me and caused me to fall all the way back onto the bed.
I was now unable to help.
Anthony was screaming and Tara was gripping him and staring at the figure coming around
to her side of the bed.
As it passed the dimly lit bathroom, we could see that this thing was very tall.
I'm guessing around seven feet.
It leaned towards Tara.
I told her to run to get herself and Anthony out of the house and I could see her trying
but she screamed that she couldn't move.
It leaned into her as if it were smelling her.
Then it looked across the bed at me and it cocked its head.
I finally felt like I could move again and I pulled Tara and Anthony along with me off
of the bed.
We ran from the house and we stayed in a motel that night.
The next day we went to the thrift store, bought some essentials, some clothes.
There was no way we were going back there, at least not yet.
Tara said that she knew what to do.
The next day she called her Aunt Gail who lived a few hours away.
Her Aunt Gail had a rather successful business hunting paranormal beings and apparently she
was quite good at it.
At least that's what we were told by Tara's mom.
Tara explained everything that's been happening and I could tell her aunt had asked her if
there was anything familiar about him.
When Tara said no, we don't know who it is or what it is, I interrupted.
I said, let me talk to her please.
Tara looked at me like I had betrayed her.
I didn't mean to.
I just wasn't sure.
But I had a feeling and I needed to tell this woman who could potentially help us.
I told her the story of Mike at the prison, the nasty inmate who hated me and then committed
suicide and then about his final note and about the way he would clock his head at me
and how the being did the same.
Aunt Gail had asked to stay clear of the house.
She said, don't go around there until I get there.
She could be there the following day.
When Aunt Gail arrived, we had a long sit down discussion.
We explained in as much detail as we could about all the happenings.
Tara was still mad that I had not mentioned the suicide guy, but we smoothed it over and
she finally understood that I had not put it together until it was in our room and at
that point there was just no time to talk.
Aunt Gail said that since it was time to go to the house because it was daytime and we
put on our brave panties and we headed to the house with her.
Aunt Gail had a small team with her.
I don't know about all this paranormal stuff and I won't even try to explain what the instruments
were that they had, but I will say it all seemed very professional and rather impressive.
She had us sit patiently on the couch while they did their initial investigation.
And though I had my doubts about all the goings on around me, I truly hoped they could figure
out what to do about this.
Tara was already saying that she's ready to sell her house.
Stop, I said.
Let's just see what everyone here has to say.
Aunt Gail looked worried.
She sat next to us and said that it was here.
Right now.
And that it was not the prisoner that had committed suicide.
This entity had never been human.
She believed that it infested that prisoner, likely contributing to him killing himself,
especially if he was already predisposed to her negative behavior.
She claimed that the Christians would call it a demon, though these things were much
older than religion.
And that it became obsessed with me, which caused the prisoner Mike to hate me.
The entity's obsession likely manifested itself as mental torture for Mike.
Why would a demon become fixated on me, I asked, still feeling like the story was a
bit incredulous, even though my ribs still hurt from where it had attacked me.
Aunt Gail said that it was fixated on me to get to Tara, that it could smell her on me
at prison, and it had encouraged Mike, likely had encouraged Mike, to kill himself, so that
it could attach to me.
It is not attached yet, and likely, when it attacked you, it was trying to.
But how do you know all this?
I mean, demon?
Demon is a loose term for something like this.
It has ill intention, but only to be with Tara.
I know this, because it revealed itself to me.
It wants to infest you so that it can, and excuse me here, but it wants Tara sexually.
It's a vile and disgusting creature that needs banished from here.
I can protect you, but I cannot send it where it needs to go.
I don't think.
Once I do what I need to do, it will leave, and unfortunately, will find someone else.
I know that doesn't seem fair, but with this thing, it's just the way it has to be.
He's going to fight.
I can practically smell his desire for Tara, and it's nauseating.
I have always been sensitive to otherworldly beings, and I can tell you, this is a dangerous
one.
I literally just sat there, mentally digesting what I was being fed.
It was like a bad movie, and I was the star.
Had I not seen this for myself, I would have told everyone in the house right now that
they were crazy.
But I had seen it.
I had felt it.
Seen the marks it left on Anthony, and still felt the pain from its assault on me.
So I was forced to take advice and listen to the madness.
Aunt Gail said she knew what to do.
She said it may take a few days, but she was sure she could get rid of it.
She said that before she began, she wanted Tara to go to the bedroom and take a stand
against it.
She wanted her to tell it to get out.
That it was not welcome.
That this is her house, and it would have to leave.
She had to tell it to get out on her own first.
Tara did her part alone.
I objected, but Aunt Gail reassured me that it was fine.
I don't know what all the rituals were that she was performing, and she did not explain
herself.
But we came to the house three days in a row, and repeated the same thing over and over.
There was no indication anything was even happening.
Until the third day.
Then all hell broke loose.
As Aunt Gail was splashing water, well I don't think it was regular water, nor do I think
it was holy water, as it was discolored and appeared to have what looked like spices in
it.
So, as she was splashing it in Anthony's room, some of the water hit the blue curtain, and
the curtain turned white, and then slowly faded back to blue.
And then a wind pushed past us down the hall.
We all went to our bedroom, and Tara had a dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling.
It was swinging wildly, nearly hitting the ceiling with each swing.
There was no breeze, and no fan on, and then it stopped, instantly, not moving.
And now the dark shadowy figure stood before us.
It was very still, slowly clocking its head at us, as if it were trying to plan what to
do next.
As it went to move forward, Aunt Gail hit it with the spiced water, and it screamed
and sunk into the floor.
It's out here!
yelled one of Aunt Gail's team, who ran out to the living room.
Aunt Gail was chanting something every time she threw the water, and this being did not
like what she was saying.
And then she said something, I think, in Latin, which I absolutely will not repeat here.
And she kept saying the Latin word, and then chanting and repeating.
The room turned ice cold, and the house, the house shook.
The house actually shook.
There was a sound like a growl, but it was all around us.
And other noises, pots and pans in the kitchen, pounding in the attic, in a wild wind, cast
by us again.
And then, everything stopped.
Just then, a window broke in the spare room, and there was silence.
We all waited, hearts pounding.
Waiting for another assault or something else that seemed impossible to comprehend.
But nothing happened.
It's gone, said Aunt Gail.
I'm sure of it.
I think Tara and I had our doubts, but we had no choice but to trust her.
That's when I got sick.
I just started vomiting, out of nowhere, for no apparent reason.
Aunt Gail came to me and had me rinse my mouth with her water concoction, which strangely
enough tasted like some kind of strange vitamins or medicines.
And she said that this was sometimes a reaction, and that I shouldn't worry.
Tara and I did not move back in immediately.
We stayed at the hotel for one more night, then finally went back to her house to spend
the night.
And Aunt Gail was right.
It was gone.
It never bothered us again.
I do feel bad that we set it loose into the world, but Aunt Gail said that it may have
gone to where it came from because she sensed a very big weakness when it left.
She didn't think it would attempt another attack on a human for a long time.
So that's my story.
Yeah, I know, it's crazy.
Even today, I look back on it as if it was a story that I heard rather than lived through.
I'm not a man that's afraid of much, but I can tell you that I was plenty scared, and
scared in a way that I hope to never be again.
Thanks for listening.
Oh man, I mean, this was so scary.
I will be seeing that thing in my dreams for sure.
It sounds like Aunt Gail knows her business with the paranormal.
Love to meet you, Aunt Gail.
Thank goodness you guys had her.
Otherwise, I know I would have sold the house.
I think it's very disturbing that this being could smell Terrell and you, like some animal,
and then followed you home?
Super creepy.
I do wonder, when it tried to attach to you, why did it fail?
I wonder if that has anything to do with the character of the person that it targets.
And it seems like it gave up after only two tries, right?
Once in the prison, and then once at Terra's home.
It's interesting.
It's very interesting.
Oh, and what about Mike, the prisoner?
Was this thing the cause of his incarceration, or was he already on a path of self-destruction?
Too many questions, never enough answers.
It is disturbing that there are things out there that can infest us, as Aunt Gail put
it, and we may not even know it's there.
And I find it fascinating that an infestation can manifest as mental illness.
That's not to say every mental illness is a demon.
I'm betting it's a very small percent.
But I'm willing to bet also that it is a percent.
Well if any of you have any thoughts on this story, please feel free to email me.
Thank you for sending this story in.
It was terrifying.
So go ahead and send your correspondence to My True Story at MyYahoo.com.
Thanks for being here.
I always appreciate you spending your time with me, and as always, peace, love, and bye
for now.
Thanks for being here today.
I hope to see you next time on Paranormal and Supernatural True Stories.
Will your experience be the next one I tell?
Send all communications and stories to My True Story at MyYahoo.com.
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