Published: 07-09-2025
Updated: 08-09-2025
This is the second appendix. It too serves to add to my work without expanding on it. At least not too much. It’s meant for those that read my work whole, meaning both the Scrolls and the Dream Journal. I want to give you more insights into the dark shadowy entities I’ve encountered in my dreams as detailed in the Dream Journal, and link that to the revelations from the Scrolls. What I will do first is detail a couple of dream experiences to you that didn’t make it into the Dream Journal. I’d pledged to only publish dreams I was sure I could accurately date. The dreams below only made it to paper after much time had passed before I was able to accurately detail them, but they were quite profound. I will then compare them with the encounters of shadow entities others have had, and link that to the work of Jerry Marzinsky – a retired psychotherapist that worked with paranoid schizophrenics who hear voices.
This first dream I had at around the year 2014, but let me start by giving you some much needed backstory. At that time I was still together with my ex, and things between us were as far as I knew good. I still lived with my parents at the time, even though I was 30 years of age. My brother had moved out about a year before, but was now back because he had a mental breakdown. Our rooms were the two small rooms of the attic. Since he had moved out I had opted to get the whole attic to myself, and moved my bed to his old room. Now that he was back he was sleeping in my old room on a mattress on the floor. It wasn’t ideal but it worked. He wasn’t doing well though, having nightmares and seeing shadowy figures in his dreams and half-awake state that tormented him. These were things I occasionally experienced as well, but by far not as much as he was at that time.
There was something in that house, I swear it. Something evil. Ever since I was little I would sometimes find myself waking up paralysed, unable to move my limbs, and there would be all kinds of things audible and/or visible. It often starts with sounds, mostly just static noise that builds up in volume until it becomes deafening. It can also sound like a turbine spinning up. I’ve heard someone describe it like an industrial washing machine that’s holding bricks. This is the range you should imagine for these events. The sounds come in many varieties, but will always be repeating and loud, becoming ever louder. Now, imagine laying in your bed, awake, unable to move, and hearing these sounds approach. It’s not fun, but it gets much scarier. Sometimes just under the loud noises I would hear people scream like they are in terrible pain and agony. A few times I’ve even heard the distinct sound of babies and young children hysterically crying their lungs out. And once the sounds have settled, the entities come.
Many things can appear. Often it’s just one or more shadow entities. These entities look like 3d shadows. They can be the form of puffy clouds, or roughly the silhouette of a humanoid, or sometimes sharp shadows with a very clear outline. But they are not shadows on the wall or something; they actually walk free. They are the darkest of black. I’ve seen them depicted as semi transparent, but that’s incorrect. They are opaque. They might not seem to be completely 100% there, but you cannot see through to them. I’ve once seen one that wasn’t opaque, though they seemed to be made out of a sort of static noise like you’d see on old television screens that are turned on without being tuned to a channel. Some sport eyes, mostly red, sometimes yellow. Others have seen other eye colours, but I haven’t. Sometimes one of them wares an old gentlemen’s hat. That one seems to be higher in rank than the others. They speak with a horrid voice, either high pitched screeching or low rumbling.
Something that can accompany them, or that sometimes precedes them is that the walls start bleeding black tar, or black smoke starts filling the room which further obscures the view. I’ve mostly seen the smoke when it was morning and I was sleeping in, meaning there was much light in the room already because the sun was up. After all this, the torment really starts. They might try to choke me, or scare me by intimidating me, towering over me, or telling me all kinds of things to get me to be scared. And often times I was. But I’ll have you know that over time I’ve gotten used to these events, and many times I’ve challenged them. Even though the experiences are still scary, I started noticing that all that would happen was this routine of theirs – while I was trying to snap out of it – and when I did I woke up in my bed and nothing had really happened to me. I don’t know when exactly I realised it, but one time when they came, I understood this would just be over in a few minutes, and this immediately changed the power balance between me and them, slightly towards my favour. It was less scary from then on.
Many times I’ve challenged them verbally. When paralysed, I cannot speak, but I found out they are able to hear your thoughts, cause I thought what I wanted to say and they reacted to it. I told them they had no real power over me, that I would just wake up and they’d be gone. They hated that. It angered them greatly. I’ve also discovered that when I repeated to them the phrases: “Who are you! What do you want from me!” that it weakens them. They don’t want to answer, and they opt to leave if I persist, though they will return in days. But a few times I actually battled them. I remember one time I got angry at them, and somehow burst out of my body in spirit, grabbed the main one with both my hands around his neck, trying to choke him back. This took them completely by surprise, and they couldn’t do anything but wait out my assault. I slammed him across the room, against the walls, my closet, the door, and I tried to bash his head in with one fist as I kept my hold on him with my other hand.
But it seemed I was unable to do any permanent damage this way. He wouldn’t take any lasting damage, but also wouldn’t really yield. He kept struggling. Though that said I was overpowering him and I could feel that the thing was scared shitless, truly truly shitless. I kept going, kept hitting him, slamming him into things, trying to break something, until I realised it was pointless. The moment I let go these entities fled through the walls. I had to walk back to my body and “crawl” back into my husk as it laid there on the bed before I woke up. When I did I woke up immediately. After this happened, they stayed away from me for many months. And let me emphasise that these encounters are rare. They were frequent enough for me to consider this a recurring thing, but rare enough for me to take long to learn how to handle it. But over time my offences in that realm slowly grew. I’ve imagined myself being able to shoot some kind of plasma beams from my forehead, and I have zapped them with it. I can’t be sure but I think this actually did hurt whatever physique they seem to have. But after a lifetime of encounters, I’ve learned that the best thing to do is to remain as calm as can be, and talk to them.
I just talk to them. They are deceivers. They want to deceive me. They tell lies. They show me things that aren’t real and tell me things that aren’t true. And that’s what I tell them. I don’t acknowledge what they say, but just confront them with the truth. They are dishonourable deceivers, and they are just someone else’s bitch. I tell them that, and this hurts them. They are addicted to the desired response of their victims. Deny them that and present them a mirror, and they vanish. They simply vanish. And then I wake up and all is well. But these are the encounters in what I would call the twilight zone; the place between this reality and the dream world. I sometimes dream of them too. They seem to have a little bit more power in the dream realm, but so do I. In the dream world I am prone to taking control. I don’t mean to say that many dreams I have are lucid. I get lucid in my dreams on occasion, but they are quite rare for me. But I do however often seem to be able to just flip the script in my dreams and turn the tide.
A car that I am in that’s crashing is suddenly not crashing any more, because I don’t want it to. The dinosaur that’s about to bite me suddenly loses interest in me, because I don’t want to struggle with it any more. The sunset that is about to end suddenly extends, because I wanted to look at the sun a little longer. The place I am at hiding from angry people that were following me suddenly has a hatch that leads me to another place, because I wanted that to be the case. When I wake up and recall that part of the dream it is so surreal, but in the dream while doing it, it was just a thing I sometimes do. And this has been one of my major strengths against these beings in the dream realm. Their antics are mostly smoke and mirrors. This is what I learned: The only power they have over you is the power you think they have over you. Once you realise you can chose them to have no power over you, it will become your reality.
It’s a pretty heavy backstory but there it is. Keep this in mind as you read these dreams. I’ll issue a little bit of a warning though; the first dream starts a bit lewd. This first dream is titled: Screwing with the devil. Here it goes. The dream took place in the same place and time I was outside of the dream. I was in my brother’s old room, on the bed, and I was having sex with a beautiful young woman with black long hair. In the dream she was Polish or possibly Russian. She was on her hands and knees and I was behind her. It was fun at first but suddenly the realisation kicked in that I was in fact cheating on my girlfriend with this girl. “How could I do that? I love her?!” But then I wondered: “Who the hell is this girl, and how did I end up in this situation? I don’t know any Russian girls?!” I stopped performing my deed. From there it dawned on me it was a dream. I became lucid. And as I did, the girl started talking to me.
She told me I would be going to hell, because I was cheating. Me – somehow fully aware I was dreaming but not aware of what was in front of me – actually countered her. “No I’m not. This is a dream. You’re fake. Can’t go to hell for something I didn’t do.” But she was adamant: “It doesn’t matter if it is real or not, cause you desired it and acted out that desire.” “That’s not how it works. I had this dream not by choice. I found myself here” I countered her. “And the reason I found myself here is a subconscious desire to reproduce. The Lord made me that way. It’s not something I choose to have.” But then the girl morphed. Her voice changed into a dark low whisper, as her dead turned 180 degrees, and she turned into a hellish looking goat: “No.. You’re wrong.” Two goat paws with hoofs and all, pushed against my shoulders, and its eyes turned red. As it did it closed the distance to my face with its head, and touched my forehead with its forehead. I stared into these red glowing eyes, and I was afraid.
It no longer spoke, and turned its head to look outside. Through the window I saw the world had changed into hell. It was raining fire, everything was aflame, and the world was dark with red and orange glows everywhere. I also saw something else. There was a man outside, hanging upside down, dangling from a rope. The window I looked out of was in a sloped roof, and what I saw could not be possible to see from this angle in real life, but in the dream it was what I saw somehow. This man was bound by the ankles with a rope that was attached around the rather large chimney of the house. He was dangling in stormy winds, and covered in some kind of white cotton bandages, that had caught on fire. He was otherwise naked. I looked at him and I recognised his face. It was me. I was dangling there. Maybe it was my soul? Together with the evil entity I looked at myself outside. The version of me outside was suffering horribly. So this was really it? I was going to hell because of this dream?
But then suddenly I realised the unfairness of it all. I have a dream I did not ask for, and that puts my number up in hell? No way would a fair God stand for this. I defied the verdict. This was unfair, and put both my hands on the neck of the hell goat, and I started squeezing. At first it was difficult and I could feel the entity did not take a liking to my deviance. I told him: “This isn’t fair! God would not stand for this!” The more I pressed on, the more strength I got over the being. I pushed down both my thumbs and kept pushing and pushing until I could feel my thumbs on the other side where my fingers were around its neck. The creature started panicking, and tried to get away from me, trying to push me off with its paws. But I did not move. I squeezed and squeezed. I was truly set on killing this evil thing. Its menacing eyes had changed from confident anger to panicked fright, and it once again turned its head to look outside. I too looked, and I saw that I was no longer dangling from that rope outside. A copy of the goat had replaced me, and was now in the situation I saw my soul version in just a minute ago. As I saw that, I realised I was having a tangible effect on the outcome.
I kept choking this monster and it panicked and panicked. I think it was about to die as its resistance to my attack weakened and weakened, and it struggled less and less. But then I woke up. I was drenched in sweat. Absolutely wet, like I had pissed the bed. My heart was racing in my chest, my heartbeat pulsating through my neck and limbs. What was that? For the longest time I believed it to have been an encounter with the devil himself. I’m not so sure now, but I am however sure this was a high ranking evil of some kind. This was not some shadow entity foot soldier, harvesting the fear tree. No, this was a targeted attack on me personally. Some months passed and I broke up with my now ex-girlfriend. Turns out, she had been cheating on me. I had my own mental break down, the break up being part of the catalyst for that, would move out of the house into a student dorm house. During the three years I lived there I sure made up for what I had missed in my youth. Oh, and my brother told me that after I had that dream experience, his dreams were a lot calmer. I had scared away something very evil.
So fast forward to about a year later. I moved out of my parents’ house, and I was suffering/recovering from my own mental break down. But as I was, all kinds of things fell into place. My study was going totally bad. I was flunking some tests or just didn’t show up at all. My work where I was contracted as a temporary teacher until I graduated had to let me go because I was without teaching papers for another year. The university was in my neck threatening to invalidate the tests results on the subjects I did pass because graduating was taking me so long. And I had broken up with what I considered at the time to be the love of my life. I was seeing a psychotherapist while I moved out, and that helped in many ways. It was good to talk to someone who was neutral and get to the things that were weighing on me, but also practical in that I could show the university I was in a bad place and was undergoing psychotherapy. I never told my therapist about the dream experiences. Even though I was almost 31 I was still eligible to apply for a student dorm room, because I was still studying.
This was my luck, cause it granted me a cheap place to live. I couldn’t have afforded an apartment or something, especially without work. This student dorm room made things possible that would otherwise not be possible. I had saved up a considerable amount of money though in my time as temporary teacher, cause I worked a lot and didn’t spent a dime. This allowed me to live in the student dorm without having to work, and granted me the peace and quiet I needed to focus on my future. I was searching for who I wanted to be. Things about home fell into place too. I finally was able to see how completely insane the last 20 years of my life had been, living under the care of my parents. My mother especially came into my focus as the person who was at the centre of all conflicts, and I realised she had kept me dependant on her. I never thought I could leave that house, unless I graduated and got me the best job I could think of. I was constantly afraid of failing my parents, and the thought of not being able to move out was equally as scary to me as actually moving out, because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to live on my own. That’s how low my self-esteem was at the time.
While moving out I had to clear the attic of my belongings. As I did, things turned up I had long forgotten about. It was like digging through my past. Many memories turned up which helped me see the truth about my parents much more clearly. But many other memories too. One things I found really stuck out to me. I used to have an iguana, named Barry. Barry’s story much resembles that of Raenk – a bearded dragon I had before I got Barry. He too was brought to the herpetological centre where I worked at years before. He was put in a box in front of the door of the shop one morning. We didn’t have the space to accommodate such a large reptile without prior notice. I had offered to keep him in my room, which with all the many terrariums at the time was a comfortable temperature for a reptile. But Barry had died years ago when I finally moved out. When clearing out my room I found 3 nails of Barry behind one of the terrariums. He sometimes lost them as I got his nails stuck in the ventilation mesh of the terrariums he often rested on. Finding these brought tears to my eyes. It was such a tangible thing to his long passed presence in my life.
These nails would become the basis of something new I’d decided to do. I bought myself a silver necklace, and made two of the nails into pendulums that could hang from it, and along with them I gathered more things that would be fitting both in size and in meaning to me to decorate this necklace. I never before in my life wore any jewellery, but now I never took it off unless I was taking a shower. This was a new thing, and this practice helped me get my bearings for who I was and who I wanted to be. It gave me purpose in a time where I was unstable. But I wasn’t unstable because of the situation I was in. I was at rock bottom, so I had nothing left to lose. This situation allowed me to see the truth of my being, which is that I had always been mentally weak, and realising that was the first step in overcoming that weakness. From there on, all I could do was climb. And so I did. The student dorm stood very near a forested area of my home town, and I would go there many many times, especially during the late hours. I found peace and solitude there, and talked to the trees, the animals, and the stars when they were out. Man, I had such a good time there. Even though I was hurting from my whole world collapsing in on me, the forest felt so welcoming and understanding. I grew into the man I am now right there in that forest at a very special spot for me.
But during this time I had many dream experiences too, as detailed in the Dream Journal. This next dream did not make it in though, because I had no time to type it out that morning, and didn’t find the time to do it until weeks later. I had already forgotten many things about it, of which too the date. That’s why this never made it into the journal, but I’ve always felt that this was a real loss because what happened was truly telling in much the same way as the previous dream written here in this appendix. I’ve even contemplated making up a date, but that just felt wrong. I had to play by my own rules. The idea of the appendices opened up the door for me to share it within my own framework, and I think it works well for this format. This next dream I’ll call: The Burning Necklace. I have a good estimate for when I had this experience. I lived in the student dorm for sure, which puts it at the beginning of April 2015 earliest, but it happened before I met my wife, which means about early July that same year at its latest. I’m inclined to think this happened closer to April, so around April or May that year. And this is what I remembered.
I woke up from a dream and found myself in a kind of luminal space. A luminal space is a room or corridor but without any features. Think about the backdoors from the Matrix movies, for example. In this case I was in a featureless room. It was rectangle in shape, quite narrow and long. I was laying on a bed. Everything was white in colour; the walls, the ceiling, the bedsheets, and even a door. The long side of the bed stood towards the long side of the room. The place where my head rested was on the side of the wall, so I could see the whole room from where I laid. The short side of the bed stood evenly in the middle of the wall behind it, meaning there was equal space on the left and the right should I want to get out of the bed. But I couldn’t move. I was paralysed. The door was on my right side, and was close to the foot end of the bed. The room was much deeper than needed to accommodate this bed. I was laying there, thinking to myself what was going to happen next. This was a new experience for me. I wasn’t scared, but a bit on edge. I laid there for about a minute without anything happening. Then the door opened.
It opened away from the bed. In the door opening stood my ex. Her mouth had a piece of tape over it, though that later disappeared. This would be the case in a later dream too by the way, as you probably recall. But she didn’t speak, taped or not. She did look very scared though. It was like she wasn’t allowed to speak. She just stood there and looked at me. She looked me in the eyes sometimes, but would mostly just scan the outline of my body under the blankets. Then more people gathered in the hallway. My ex walked in, and more people entered. They were all familiar people; my parents, other family members, friends, house mates, old colleagues, and so on and so forth. And they acted the exact same way as my ex; frightened and silent. They’d gather in the door opening, but as more people pushed in they gathered around the bed, looking me over with fear in their eyes. It was as if they were frightened before hand not to speak and were still in fear because of that intimidation.
It was so weird. I contemplated whether or not I had died. Was the room I was in perhaps a morgue, or a farewell room of a funeral home? The room was now very crowded. Nobody spoke. It was completely silent. But as they stood there another person came in from the hallway. This person was a man with a hat, wearing what seemed to be some kind of trench coat, but he was otherwise completely featureless. And I mean that in the same way as I describe the shadow entities. It is very hard to explain this, but he was there, yet I can say nothing about him, apart from the hat and the trench coat. If he had a colour, I would say it was black, but I didn’t even recall that. But he felt much the same as the shadow entities, and he too acted the same way. He sneaked in, and I could see some people – completely afraid of him – give him room, and I saw he reached into his trench coat with his left hand to get something. Intuitively I knew he was going to grab a gun and shoot me. And as he pulled his hand back from his coat indeed a pistol with a long silencer on the end appeared. I reacted intuitively too. Somehow, I was fearless.
In an instance I had broken the hold of the paralysis on me, levitated out of the bed, and rushed towards entity. In a fraction of a second before he could do anything, I had my right hand on his left wrist of the hand he held the gun with, and my left hand on his throat, and I forced him onto the ground, me on top of him. He remained calm and spoke with a vicious voice: “You are becoming a real problem for us.” My response was short and to the point: “You won’t be able to stop me from doing what I want to do.” It looked down towards my chest, where in this reality my necklace dangled in front of his face. He grabbed it with his right hand, saying: “This thing gives you power…” While he said it and grabbed it tighter to – I think – pull it loose from my neck, I interjected him: “Then it will burn in the hands of those that want to harm me.” But the moment I uttered the word ‘burn‘ this entity absolutely screamed in the loudest most vile and vicious: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” I affirmed my prior sentence: “Yes it will!” And as I said it I looked at the necklace which he had pulled from my neck, and as I did, I imagined it getting searingly hot.
Immediately smoke appeared where the hand of this entity touched the necklace, and I imagined it getting hotter and hotter. And it did, immediately, and became white orange in colour. It was hurting this entity, which again with the same intensity produced another “no!“, which was so loud it woke me up. I had to get up then and there, for some reason. I was late. This surreal experience shook me. It reminded me of the previous encounter with the devil goat. I stood up and walked to the mirror. In the mirror I saw my necklace was incomplete. One of the pendulums was missing. I checked the bed and there it was. Somehow it had gotten loose from the chain. It was a mineral stone, called red tiger eye. This stone was held with some kind of glue that was attached to a small ring by which it could be hung on the necklace. It wasn’t unthinkable that this would some day come loose from the ring, but to have it happen so quickly after I purchased it and especially the same night I had this experience to me is no coincidence. This was again a targetted attack.
I do not remember what I meant with the sentiment he wasn’t going to be able to stop me what I wanted to do. It could be this work. That’s the most logical thing to conclude, but then again I was not planning on writing all this yet. I was however taking notes for ideas I had, and that indeed was the basis of my published work. But when I woke up that morning I had no idea what it was about. But I think that this evil came to me twice in such a short amount of time speaks volumes for what I consider my spiritual potential, and I truly hope I can make a dent in the plans of these evil entities. But who are these evil entities? And what are they? Are they completely foreign to us? Are they alien in nature? Well, I think we are more alike than we care to know, and the next two dreams will show you just why I came to that conclusion. We are not that far removed from them on the spiritual plane, and I think that if we make certain decisions in life we might even become them. Like I wrote before somewhere in this work: ‘There are no answers. There are only choices.’
This next experience was a dream. I call this dream: Shadow Me. It was dreamt somewhere in 2015 or 2016. I was involved in some story, and I went along. It took place in a forested area. There were concrete high rise flats, scarcely spread around the area. It was quiet on the streets. Either much of the apartments were uninhabited or people really kept to themselves and lived a recluse life. In the dream the neighbourhood was quite new, so either (or both) was possible. I vaguely recall going into a shop that had all sorts of candy from the old days, before giant food corps existed. They also sold all kinds of toys, made by hand with woodcraft and such. A weird place. I think my sister was there, as too was my brother. I don’t recall too much about this dream to be honest, except its ending. The three of us had perhaps all walked away from our parents and now lived in this new neighbourhood, and my sister had arranged for us to be able to say goodbye to our aunt – our dad’s sister.
My aunt and uncle showed up on the parking lot of the apartments, and we walked around in this strange place. Some flats weren’t even finished, and all that stood there was the concrete skeleton structure, no windows, no doors, just the concrete. And I don’t recall exactly what or how, but after we had said our goodbyes to our aunt and uncle, and they’d left, there was suddenly an urgency. We were in danger from something, and I don’t recall what. I do recall running away. I kept running and running, and eventually I made it into one of the unfinished buildings, where I hid in one of the rooms while a dark figure was looking for me. I tried to slow my breathing, but that was difficult as I was totally out of breath from all the running. This alerted the creature to my location, and it came into the room where I was on the floor. It was a shadow entity, smoky in appearance. And it immediately attacked me, forced me to lay on my back on the floor as it put one hand on my neck and tried to choke me. I struggled but I barely could. I was totally out of breath.
I tried kicking him off with my feet, but I couldn’t. The more I fought the more tired I got, and the heavier my breathing became. But as I inhaled and exhaled, I noticed my deep breaths were mimicked by this creature. If I inhaled and exhaled deeply, with a short delay the creature did too. It suddenly became less scary, and I became curious. I tried to breathe in a particular order, and waited what happened. And sure enough the creature repeated this pattern exactly as I had produced it. I didn’t understand how, but I somehow found out that this creature was part of me. So, instead of fighting, I got the idea to tell it: “I love you.” It stopped trying to choke me, and with the same delay as the breaths before, it repeated in a whispering voice: “I love you.” And as it did, I could feel strength come back to me. I kept repeating it, adding in my name: “I love you, Willem. I love you.” And the creature, with the same mysterious whispering voice, repeated the words back to me, and even started hugging me. Every time I told it I loved it, I felt it grow spiritually, and every time it repeated it back to me, I felt less tired and out of breath. We ended up hugging each other, and I think he slowly changed into me. It was like I was hugging my twin. And that’s where this dream ended.
This was a very profound experience, I assure you. But the next one was even more profound. It was again a situation were I woke up paralysed. Let me give you the needed background first to set the stage. This dream happened somewhere between 2018 and 2020. Me and my wife now lived in a house. I had moved out of the student dorm after having lived there for exactly 3 years (to the date!). I’d graduated and was a licenced biology teacher now. Though I worked as a lab assistant at a school, where I taught biology, chemistry, and physics. It was a wonderful time. Loving wife, nice house, well paying job, and no contact with my parents for years. I finally felt like I had made it in live, and I did it without any help of my parents. It is one of the best times of my life. The date is so broad because I haven’t a clue when exactly this dream happened. I only recall it because I’ve often told other people about this dream, so I can still recall it in detail. But somehow I never got around to typing it out, and I am doing so now out of memory still. The only clues I have are which room we slept in and the date my dad died. Those give me dates I can work with to narrow it down.
In this house we have 3 rooms upstairs, of which one is small and the others big. We slept in the small room the first 2 to 3 years after moving in. This experience took place in the small room, so it for sure was at its earliest in April 2018 when we got the house, and at its latest October 2020, which is before my dad passed away, which he did in early September 2020. So it must’ve happened somewhere between these dates. But what exactly happened? I’ll call this experience: Framing my dark side. Here’s what happened. I woke up in that little room, and I was paralysed again. I could hear my wife breathe, the room was very dark. I could barely move my head, but something to the left of me caught my eyes. The room was very small, so the bed on my side stood against the wall, so that on the other side my wife could get out of bed easily, and she could have a night stand with a alarm clock and some lady things. I was agile enough to climb over her without waking her if I needed to go to the toilet.
But as I said I saw something to the left of me on the wall. There was movement where I didn’t expect any to be. With great difficulty I was able to turn my head towards the wall, where I saw something surreal. On the wall was a rectangle shape, in landscape layout, about 4 feet wide and 2 or 3 feet high. It was like a painting or a window, but the edges where blurred, like the wall was dissolved inwards, and what remained of the wall bled like smoke into the middle part. Soon I realised this was an open portal. Looking through this portal, I saw another room, darker even than my own bedroom was. This room was very familiar to me. This was the baby room in my parents’ house; the room which would eventually become my sister’s room, and in later dreams showed the place where my brother was suffering from sickness and depression. This room is the smallest of the house. I viewed this rectangle room from all the way in the back. The portal connected to this room on its shortest wall, opposite to the wall where the door is. And I heard sounds coming from that room on the other side of the portal.
Through this portal I heard the distinct sound of a baby crying. And it was the kind of crying a really really young baby makes. When a baby is only a few weeks old, there is no mass to their voice. When they cry, it sounds soft and tender, even if they are crying hysterically. And this was that kind of cry. But it wasn’t just any baby. I don’t understand how, but in this experience I knew for a fact that this baby was me. I somehow recognised the sound of my own voice in it. If you’d have a tape of me crying as a baby, and lined this track up in between the crying of other babies, I am very sure I couldn’t tell which baby is me and which is not. But during this experience I was absolutely sure that was me crying. I recognised it exactly, and I recall remembering that I actually cried like that. The portal connected not just through space, but also through time, and on the other side of the portal was me, as a baby. I tried to see what was going on, but the baby room on the other side was very dark.
My eyes slowly got more used to the darkness in that room, and slowly I was able to distinguish ever more items in the room. I could make out the crib on the other end of the room. In there must be my little self. But why was I crying so loudly? I remembered that my mom had told me and my siblings often that I was the biggest cryer of her three children. I presumably had kept my parents up many nights, crying and crying. I just wouldn’t stop crying. Although I still didn’t understand how this portal came to be – and do know that as far as I knew, I was awake and this was real – I thought that perhaps this was a good opportunity for me to try and find out why I was crying. So I searched the room, looking for clues, still getting used to the darkness in that room. Until I saw something. Something moved. Something dark. As slowly my eyes got ever more used to the darkness in that room I could eventually make out 3 black shadow entities. They stood around the crib, and one of them had their hand inside the crib.
This angered me greatly. Those sick fucks were terrorising a baby. I didn’t even care that this was me nor that it was in a past that had already happened. It was unfair, and it triggered me. But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t shout, there was nothing I wanted to do that worked. I wanted to go through the portal and show them what I was capable off, but I was kept in paralysis. But then I thought to myself: “What if I intensely focus on the entity that has their hand in the crib? What if I challenge him and dare him to come to me. At least he would leave the baby alone.” I tried this, and it actually worked. It immediately drew the attention of the main entity in that room. It looked up, and it seemed to understand I was trying to intervene in their activity. Upon that realisation, it rapidly approached the portal, jumped through, and put both its two hands around my neck. Upon this the portal closed behind him. “Good!” I thought to myself.
I’m not sure what triggered it – maybe the portal closing, or the sensation of someone suddenly jumping on my chest trying to choke me, or the adrenaline rush of it all – but I was no longer paralysed. The instant this creature sat on me, I grabbed its hands and pushed him off me. I pushed him so hard, he bounced against the door and wall on the foot side of the bed. It got back up again, and I raised my right fist to ready my next countermove. It too raised its fist, the left one. I stretched my left arm in anticipation of him jumping me, and it too stretched its hand, his right one. It mirrored my movements, and it did so instantaneously. It looked like he was mimicking me, but doing so without delay. I waved and it waved back. I waved both my hands, and so did the creature. It somehow was my own shadow now, but still 3D. I was casting this shadow. And indeed all around it was light, and I was breaking that light with my own body, sitting on the bed. So then I thought: “But then where is all that light coming from?” And I looked over my shoulder, and saw my wife, sitting as the Buddha, levitating about 1 foot above the bed, shining the brightest of light on me. And then I woke up, for real.
Now these experiences are all important for how I proceed in this appendix, but they do not stand on their own. The other experiences in the Dream Journal too are important for this appendix. And I want to emphasize again that these experiences are mostly rare, and also that what I experience on what I call ‘the other side of the veil’ is not just all bad. There are some wonderful experiences that took place there too, some of which you can read in the Dream Journal. So what are they, these shadow entities? The last two experiences shared in this appendix tell me that there is a connection between us and them. I think that we – human beings – are both capable of dark and light. We reside in a spiritual twilight. If you’ve read all the Scrolls you know that I believe our world is a spiritual ecosystem, with many sides, all with their own agendas. And we can either fall and service/feed the evil, or we can overcome this darkness and rise to become one with the light.
I think that the shadow entities were once physical human beings, like you and I. Maybe they are the remnants of what is left of spirits that took the road towards darkness, and who are on a journey down into the trench of good and evil. They are at least some distance down from us, spiritually, and I think they are the corrupted disembodied souls of once evil doing people, who have passed and who now have become very disfigured from their spiritual nature, serving a greater evil purpose. But there are more possibilities, because not every encounter is the same. There is an overall draft of the shadow entities between my own experiences and to those of others, but there are those rare deviations where how the creatures appear and/or what they do differs from that draft. Within the framework of my own writings it is possible that an entity that is higher in rank chooses to no longer want to serve their master. Though I imagine this to be exceedingly rare, it may serve to explain how some encounters stand more on their own and are not per say that easy to explain any other way. Or perhaps an evil entity will be demoted to shadow entity by a higher rank after failure.
In a truly spiritual ecosystem there are many possibilities. But let me focus now on experiences by others. The things I’ve experienced thus far are all in a way incredible, but I am in no way unique in having had these experiences. You will find stories about these entities throughout time, but those were mostly written off as mysticism, or figure of speech things, or as hallucinations. No historian seems to take the claims of the people of our past at face value. They came from a time of scientific ignorance and superstition, and thus they reason they must be the product of flawed thinking. But today the encounters and experiences people have can be shared more easily through podcasts, blogs, and other media. I do believe however that there is a host of fake stories out there too, put there by the establishment, so that people can never hear a real untainted encounters without also reading about anti-spiritual bologna. But there are people like me who will recognise others like us in a split second for being of the same kind, and who’s experiences easily rival those of mine in their profoundness and otherworldliness. And these further illustrate that what we’re dealing with is something that isn’t all that different from us ourselves.
There is a documentary, called ‘The Nightmare’ (2015) by Rodney Ascher, which details a lot of these experiences. But you’ll be hard pressed to find the original. It was on Netflix briefly, but it has since been taken off. Go on YouTube and you’ll find a documentary by the same name, supposedly from 2009, supposedly made by Paradox Studios, but you shouldn’t waste your time. It’s complete shit. On the large aggregate sites a movie of the same name, also made in 2009, is shown first when searching this documentary. It seems when searching for ‘the nightmare’ you’ll be led into a dead end. But look a little bit more extensively and you’ll find it. It’s worth your time if you are invested into this topic and want to learn more. This documentary adds to this appendix in that it confirms others have had these kinds of experiences too, but it does more. It also showed that the things people experienced differed from place to place. I can confirm this too. I’ve only ever heard the ambient cries of children in pain at my parents’ house, for example. The entities I encountered in the student dorm house were also different from those at my parents’ house, and the house I now live in. I have never encountered one when on holiday over the border.
So – at least some of – these entities seem to be bound to a place. And there’s more. In that documentary one of the persons being interviewed who is prone to these experiences recalls an event. He and his girlfriend had a female friend sleep over in their house. They lived in a small apartment, so they all had to sleep in the same bed, and it was quite cramped. As he went to sleep the paralysis immediately kicked in, and he was confronted with a huge towering shadow monster that was intimidating him. The creature had red glowing eyes, and it told him this: “I know who you are. You don’t know who I am right now, but I know you and you know me, and you… are going to die!” But as he was having this horrifying experience he was suddenly snapped out of it by the visiting girl who screamed her lungs out in panic and sat up right in bed, crying hysterically. He and his girlfriend tried to calm her down, figuring she must’ve had a bad dream or something. As she calmed down she was able to explain what had happened. Unknowing to her that one of her hosts just had one of his own paralysis experiences she details how she was unable to move, and saw a cat with red glowing eyes sit on her chest, whispering evil things to him – the guy – in a language she didn’t understand.
This is quite a spooky experience, but putting that aside it also confirms that this is not just an experience within one person, but an experience of something that must be outside of us. I will come back to that later on, but let me share one last profound thing that is also shared in the documentary. One of the experiencers is now a born again Christian, cause she had one of these experiences, and somehow got the idea of invoking the name Jesus to whatever force confronted her. When she did, the evil disappeared. And this is something recurring too. I’ve read and heard about many such examples. As soon as people invoke Jesus or Angels, the evil will go. It might return some days, weeks, months, or even years later, but every time you invoke a heavenly force and ask it to help you, the entities immediately bolt out of there. And I too can confirm this. Before I discovered I could fight them myself I sometimes called the help of Michael, the Archangel. For some reason that felt right for me at the time. And indeed, as soon as I call out to him, the evil releases me.
Let me tie this in with the last part of this appendix, and mention the work of one Jerry Marzinsky. He is a retired psychotherapist who has been working most of his professional life with people diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. To set the stage, you should know that paranoid schizophrenia is a disorder that is said to be incurable, determined the medical establishment as per their DSM (diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). If you’re diagnosed with it, it is said you’re going to hear voices for life. How do you get diagnosed? Do they take a blood sample? Do they map the brain activity through some kind of test sequence? No. You tell a psychiatrist you hear voices and you get the label. But what is causing people to hear voices? What is the medical explanation? During the early days of psychology, it was said that it was through trauma. But soon it was found that people without any trauma could start to hear voices too. Maybe it was something the mother did when they were kids. This was also dismissed after some time.
But then what could it be? Genetics was blamed. It must be a genetic trait. That held its place for a while, until the geneticists got better and found no genetic marker. Well, obviously it must be caused by many genes, which again over time showed to be incorrect. The claim it must be caused by hundreds of genes seemed to be too much of a reach for most scientists, so a new culprit was blamed; it is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. Apparently the brain chemistry is perfectly balanced, and when out of balance it will start producing these audible voice hallucinations. And this has been the prevailing narrative for decades. Which chemicals are out of balance? Well, funny you should ask, cause there is no research that shows exactly what is going on, chemically. That’s why there’s no biochemical tests to indicate whether or not someone is schizophrenic. This is something Jerry Marzinsky noticed when he was a fresh graduate. Marzinsky’s testimonies are compelling. People who hear voices are hallucinating, because the manual says so. Marzinsky thought that to be strange.
How is it determined which drugs someone gets? It’s a gamble. They try a few different drugs to see which gives the best results. Sure, they quiet down the voices, though people still report hearing them. And without these drugs some patients in mental hospitals were quite violent and would require many staff members to put them in straight jackets. The drugs calmed them down, and drugs are much cheaper than hiring more staff. That’s why these drugs have been adopted as the golden method of treatment. But in their essence these drugs are tranquillisers, and they are incredibly damaging to the brain. Marzinsky refers to studies that show that the brains of patients on these drugs shrink. When the pharmaceutical mafia refuted these claims, a followup study was done on rats, clearly showing shrinkage of the brains of rats on these drugs. Yet, these drugs are still prescribed to fix this supposed chemical imbalance. The claim of this chemical imbalance is still prevalent and being taught in educational medical institutes around the world, without a sliver of proof.
But the thing that pulled Marzinsky out of the slumbering blind acknowledgement of the DSM as the holy grail of psychological disorders was that in treatment the therapist was ordered never to acknowledge the voices. Don’t talk about the voices, don’t ask the patient what the voices are saying, don’t ever mention the voices other than to tell them to ignore them and that they aren’t real. They are hallucinations that come from a chemical imbalance in the brain, and talking about them in any sense other than that is dangerous because then the hallucinations become stronger. Again, no research to back this up. And to Marzinsky this was strange. If the hallucinations were caused by something chemical, the way these hallucinations expressed themselves could indicate something about the condition. During his professional life he went from a sceptic to someone with a different insight. He no longer believes these voices are hallucinations at all. He’s learned far too much to dismiss them as such.
Of the many things he found was that the voices that were talking to one person could have information about a conversation he had with another patient. He would find that all the patients experienced very similar things. The voices were always very negative and seemed intent to invoke negative emotions from the patients. And after a patient had a bad episode due to the voices, they were completely drained of mental stamina. Marzinsky would eventually find out that the so called hallucinations all hated Psalm 23 from the Bible. All of them! They also all hated it if the patient went to visit a session in church. After a while, looking at the evidence, he came to the conclusion the voices were parasites, feeding on the negative emotions of these people. He couldn’t explain how or why, or what they are in the greater scheme of things, but it was something he was sure off. And he found out that these voices, over many patients, hated it when he told his patients that he thought the voices are parasites. And as he told them, he could predict what the voices would tell the patients. He knew because he had the patients agree to tell him how the voices responded. And they all responded the same way over dozens of patients.
First they would say: “Don’t listen to this guy, he’s crazy. Stop listening. Tell him you don’t believe him.” Then if the patient didn’t acknowledge that, the voices would take it up a notch, demanding the patient leave the room: “Get out of there, he’s going to make you insane, he’s going to attack you!” And if that didn’t work, the voices would egg the patient on to attack Marzinsky. And he was able to convince these patients that these voices were not just coming from outside, cause what kind of hallucinations carry over from one person to the next? Why would hallucinations of different people all care which Psalm someone reads? And after a while of teaching ever more patients how to silence the voices, and more schizophrenics wanted to learn this, he told them: “Okay, I’m going to tell you something (which was that he thought they are parasites), and first, they’ll tell you not to listen to me, then they’ll tell you to leave, and then they’ll tell you to attack me.” Just for the patient to then tell Marzinsky that the voices had said in the hallway that that is what he was going to tell them, and so they should stop listening to him cause he can’t tell them anything new.
Marzinsky has had a lot of other revelations regarding schizophrenia. Once, the voices said through one of the patient that he had no right to interfere with their way of life, and was once even offered the winning numbers for a lottery if he would stop what he was doing. But besides the things he got back from his patients under his care, he also experienced a weird apparition in his room once, where a patient was present. It was some kind of seemingly electric phenomenon that traveled through the walls. Afterwards the patient had stated that “it was them” and that he didn’t think Marzinsky could see it too, because he’s used to others not being able to see them. Another one of his experiences I heard on a podcast with Marzinsky, where he detailed laying in bed and being pressed into the mattress by a strong hand, pushing on the back of his neck. This should be familiar to you if you’ve read the Dream Journal of my work. Another thing of note is that Jerry says he has had encounters with shadow entities a few times and prays to Archangel Michael. I found it funny that we both do/did that.
Let me bring this to its conclusion. You might have some work to do, reading up or listening to podcasts with Jerry Marzinsky, and indeed view that documentary The Nightmare (2015) too. I’ll end with that I think these phenomenon describe entities from the same realm. I think people who are schizophrenic may have an ability that is closer to what our innate spiritual abilities are. They are perceptive to that world. Taken from the context of my own work, it means they can connect to beings outside of this matrix which we consider our reality. It stands to reason that this system in which we live devised ways to make sure they cannot just escape this realm, or – even worse – wake others up to the truth behind their reality. No enlightened messages are allowed to enter the matrix through these people. But one thing Marzinsky had a bit of a disagreement about with one of his (now cured) patients is what these things do with our negative emotions. His former patient said they are addicted to it, claiming it’s a kind of drug for them, like catnip for cats. But Marzinsky thinks it’s an actual feeding activity, and these beings need it to sustain themselves.
If you see their claims through the lens of my work you know they are both wrong and right. We live in a matrix where we believe our existence is dependant on our sustenance too. Our instincts to eat are our addiction to this matrix. Therefore, the parasitic behaviour of these entities qualifies as them being addicted to it, thinking they cannot exist without it, just as a drug addict thinks they cannot live without their drugs. The entities I think are these disfigured souls that have dived deeper into the believe you can only exist at the cost of others, and have taken on a role in the functioning of this matrix that reinforces this believe, further stagnating them, further turning them more evil, unable to self-reflect. The shadow entities are the egos of souls long lost and turned dark. They have no face that they can reflect to, no way to express themselves in any other way than a vicious malicious presence. But they miss their physical lives and hunger for its pleasures. It was a time when they could express themselves more freely. Now, all they are to people is ghosts, and if they don’t scare anyone so they can feed on their emotions, they think they will perish.
I think us humans are in the twilight. We have both a soul and an ego. The question is which will win out over the other. And the answer is to love. I think if what my experiences show me it is that we have to understand that we are part of the darkness, just as much as we are part of the light, and that if we can learn to show our inner dark side some love, we light their candle, and they can grow spiritually. Should be however forever battle them, we will one day become them. The fight isn’t a tough spiritual fight because evil is so strong, but because we are so caught up in a dualistic view of the world that we cannot see that the world around us is just a representation of the struggles we fight within ourselves with aspects of ourselves. It all stems from a lack of self-love. Once we know how to shine our light on our evil will we cure the world of our evil. It is our spiritual challenge to overcome. And considering what the evil in this world has caused, I think it is going to be a long walk before humanity as a whole will be able and willing to forgive itself.
~reckneya