Before you begin reading this, please understand that this is not a work of fiction. I know some people tend to come on here and troll with made up stories just for the comments and likes, but I assure you that this retelling is 100% factual. Take it or leave it at your own discretion.
It was December 2011 in Fairfield, OH. I had just finished off the semester and was preparing myself for my senior exams at the University of Cincinnati. Seeking a break from the student teaching, classwork, and studying, I decided to stay a night with the guy I was dating. To protect his name and for the purpose of this story, I’ll call him Mark.
Mark and I had been having our ups and downs. He was recently angry at me for staying home on his birthday to finish up my final essay before exams. So I decided to go to his house for a break, but also to spend a day with him even though his birthday had passed. We ordered pizza, talked a bit, I made him cookies and gave him an hour long back massage. All in all, it was great.
Things didn’t start to get weird until we went to bed. It was normal at first. He lay on the left side of the bed and I on the right. Just like always, he fell asleep before I did. The last thing I remember before falling asleep as well was the clock. 11:24pm.
That’s when it happened. The dream. I was used to having dreams just like everyone else, but this one was different. Normally, you can’t tell a nightmare is a nightmare until you get to the scary parts. But this one was special.
I started out in a cabin. It was dark, the walls hidden by shadows, and the only source of light was the fire roaring in the fireplace. The windows blue, reflecting that it was sometime at night. The trees crackled outside as the rustled at the command of the wind. In the center of the cabin was an animal skin. The animal skin of a tiger. And behind that sat a russet leather couch. The door leading to the outside had something on it, but what, I was unable to make out.
Although I couldn’t see myself, I knew, on some level, that I was in a dream. However, unlike the book “Divergent”, I was unable to control anything that was happening. I was simply a spectator in a story my mind was writing for me. Or that something else was.
That’s when the uneasy feeling set in. My skin prickled as goosebumps ran rampant down my arms. The room was cold. How could the room be cold in a dream? Can one feel something like that in this state?
I didn’t have time to think about it for long. A snake, a bright yellow boa to be exact, had slithered its way on to the scene. It was on the floor at first to my right, and it stared deep in my eyes, it’s tongue lapping at the air. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
It then turned its attention to the couch and slithered up the side on to the arm rest. It continued its path along the couch, its body so long and plump that not all of it could fit.
Yet its attention was no longer on me. It was instead fixated on the fire. The flames dancing in its small home had captivated the snake to the point where it was entranced by the beauty of it all. And all I could do was watch.
This went on for about a full two minutes. That’s when I heard a knock at the door. I didn’t look up. The snake didn’t move. It was too busy gliding across the chesterfield towards the blaze. Another rapping at the door echoed in the door cabin. I still didn’t look up out of fear, but also because I wanted to know why the flame was so important to that boa.
The rapping quickly became a banging. The snake peered up at me as I looked towards the door. Then there was quick run up to the door, like a camera zooming in quickly on its subject. Hanging from the door, that large thing that I couldn’t see earlier, were several dead animal carcasses. Squirrels, raccoons, chipmunks, nuthatches, owls… Several woodland creatures that have been gutted, skinned, and sewn were strewn upon the door from top to bottom.
My eyes open. I look around the room for a minute. Mark was still snoring away at his side of the bed. I had a slight headache and lay still for a moment.
I sat up and rubbed my head. The change in elevation only made it worse. I looked around the room again. The air was cold.
It was much colder than it was before I went to sleep. I felt like I was sleeping in an icebox. I started to shiver tremendously and tried to pull the blankets up to bring warm relief, but it didn’t work. I saw another comforter in the closet across the room and tried to go get it.
Before I could move, however, I was instantly knocked back on to the bed. My headache went crazy and I groaned with pain. I tried to sit back up but I couldn’t move. My arms, legs, hands, neck…everything was pinned to the bed. I couldn’t even open my mouth. The only thing I could control were my eyes.
The room began to get hazy. Everything started turning orange. Little black dots could be seen everywhere.
Then I heard whispers. I thought maybe it was Mark. Maybe he heard me groan or felt the bed shake as my body was slammed against the bed. But it wasn’t.
The disembodied voice, whatever the cause, was soon in my right ear whereas Mark lay on my left side.
I still couldn’t move. The room grew colder and colder, just like the cabin in the dream. I felt something moving against my ear, almost like lips or a tongue. The words were of a language I’ve never heard before.
I still remember what it sounded like. “Ha se eth maala etha.” I still have no clue what it means, but I just remember that up on hearing it, the only thing that I wanted to do was kill Mark.
Yes, kill. And I don’t mean in a playful way. I wanted to cause serious injuries to him. I wanted to break bones, punch him in the face, twist his arm, choke him, whatever I could do to make it as painful as possible.
I resisted. I started making muffling noises as I pushed back against the force that wanted me to hurt my significant other. I started twisting, trying to force my body to move in the way I wanted it to, not that way whatever this thing did.
The dark, sinister voice continued in my right ear. “Kali ast ste ooth ma ga.” My arms where lifting by themselves as I tried to force them back down to the bed. My legs were still paralyzed. I squirmed helplessly, scared of what I might do.
A few seconds later, Mark appeared over me. “Elle! Ellie! Wake up!” He grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me. The room began to normalize. The orange haze and black dots were gone along with the bodiless voice.
I stared at Mark for a minute trying to regain myself and recall what had just happened. He stared at me for a second. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Nothing… I… what happened?” I looked around the room before resting my eyes on the clock. 3:02am.
“I don’t know. You were flailing around and mumbling something weird. Looked like you were having some type of seizure or something.” I asked him if my eyes were closed, hoping that maybe I just imagined him looking over me and the entire thing was a dream.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “your eyes were staring directly at the ceiling. You weren’t even blinking. I thought you were awake. Were you not?”
I told him I was asleep and I must have had a bad dream. I told him to go back to sleep and after him asking me several times if I was sure and if I was okay, he turned over and went back to sleep.
I didn’t. I was awake the rest of the night. It wasn’t until morning that I told Mark what had happened that night and the contents of my dream.
As we are both Christian, he was very unnerved by what I told him. And after a few days, we just wrote it off as a weird nightmare or hallucination. However, it didn’t compare with what happened on Christmas Day. And after that, well, that's when I was sure I had just met a demon.
But you’ll just have to read about that in Part 2, The Doorway to Hell.
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