I am the priest and all is true; the experiences were
dreamlike in nature because there is no other way to describe the
astral-surreal limited awareness at the time; unfurling these vague and
vivid snippets of memory revealed my knowing more than I
knew, consciously, or what it all meant; here's
an excerpt from my developing
book; Relaxation techniques, slowly bought him to an altered state; under
hypnosis, a series of subconscious motor reflexes, a twitch of a different
finger cemented a conversation with the body, not the mind; the thumb,
indicated "Yes", the middle finger, "No", the pinky, "I (can't) won't
answer". This technique would confront repressed fear, avoidance, or
directives to forget, and allow direct conversation with the unconscious.
By hypnotic suggestion, the body would answer, meaningfully, even if one
Doctor : "Let's begin; can we talk about his bad
Priest: (film shows quick flash of thumb;) "Yes"
Doctor: "Go back to the day the two puppets floated outside the
window, and, below consciousness, recall what happened, that afternoon.
Show me that you begin by moving the "yes" finger, and the end of that
recall by moving the "no" finger."
Priest: (film shows "yes" and
Doctor: "Good; started and ended. Is there any
unconscious, additional information, the father has not remembered
concerning that afternoon?"
Priest: (finger twitches quickly with
the "yes" thumb movement)
Doctor: "What happened? See it remotely,
as if you're in a projector booth, watching yourself, on a screen; what
Priest: (increasing stress) "I don't want to answer
digit", pinky, signal.
Doctor: "No? You don't want to tell me?
Fine, can you talk to me orally, tell me what you're
Priest: (more negative finger) Movements with agonized
Doctor: "You refer to this as October,1999. Whatever
happened was long ago. You're safe and in control; are you reluctant to
talk about it because it's too upsetting?"
Priest: Film records
positive finger movement
Doctor: "Freeze the scene and see part in
full frame; like a snapshot? Is it okay?"
Priest: Film shows a
Doctor: "A still slide projected on a faraway screen;
you're up in the projection booth watching the father in the
Priest: "As I was looking through the window, the eyes
looked back. Staring back. The eyes are not normal."
closer; what else do you notice?"
Priest: "The face doesn't have
any teeth, it's not a normal face. It's gone, now." Doctor: "Feel the
relief that the face is gone. Now I have a question for your unconscious
to answer by finger movement. Has any harm been done to the father during
the faces' presence?"
Priest: (records a quick "no"
Doctor: "Now what happened, later, that night, when you
felt, sensed something by your bed? Was there anything done to the father,
physically during that time?"
Priest: Head is shaking "no" and the
finger movement is saying "yes", softly; "They took my clothes", sadly
"They took my priestly vestments".
Priest: Very agitated, legs twitching, shoulders twitching.
His head shook on a negative reaction.
Doctor: "Is the "no" for
then, or now? You keep shaking your head "no"."
Priest: "For now".
Doctor: "You don't want to talk about it?"
Doctor: "Do you want to remember it when you come out of
Doctor: "Do you want to remember it
some other day?"
consciousness, I want to ask your hand some questions. Hand in the course
of that encounter, did the father leave the house?"
positive finger response, "yes".
Doctor: "Was he removed from the
Priest: (another "yes" response)
Doctor: "Would it
be all right for him to remember the things that happened?"
Priest: (an animated "no" response)
Doctor: "Without him
reliving the experiences, would it be all right for him to remember what
Priest: The little finger jumps repeatedly with "I don't
want to answer" response. (Slowly) I want to see what
Doctor: "Repeat that, please, say it
Priest: "I want to see what happened".
avoid reliving; you do not have to relive the experience, speak of the
priest as "He", it is not you, but a picture".
Priest: "He was on
line, on a "tour", waiting on line, inside something large, humid, slowly
entering a large carrier ship."
He is flying high over lush green
tree landscape, over rolling tree lined hills.
He knows that it is
night but the fields and countryside below are lit up as though it were
day but he knows it's night because he is dreaming. For a few brief
seconds he sees the green granular nature of the trees below and a visual
exhilaration of flying combined with a sense of peace and happiness. He
marvels at the texture and color and his movement above it.
dreaming but he is awake.
He is told by a tour guide, who is always
just out of sight, that he is to wait on line for a tour of the insides of
a country estate. He is numb and is dreaming. But he feels that he is
He is moving forward, people in front and in back of him,
all adults on a narrow path surrounded by flat, English gardens. It is hot
and humid with the rank smell of soil. People clutch what looks like
brochures and move slowly in a single line, towards the country estate. He
feels bored, but he is mildly interested. A ticket taker sits at the
entrance way, on a stool behind a lectern; He is a slim teenager but as he
looks, he turns into a kindly old man.
Everyone is awake but
Inside is a waiting room; a dull, white room with no
adornments and a black floor. Inside, a dozen or so middle aged men pace
nervously. Some speak in brief low voiced non-sequiters and look worried.
Some of the men move towards a buffet table, strangely empty of food or
drink. An unhappy, slight, balding man peeks up at him from the paper cup
he is holding in hand and makes furtive eye contact.
guide, who always remains out of view, now tells him that it is a cocktail
party. He senses an uncomfortable corporate uneasiness in each face that
repels him from the room. He thinks to himself: I'd like to find the hosts
of this party and give them a piece of my mind; no food no drink! What
kind of party is this?
As he starts off to look for the host with
that thought in mind, he is slapped with an emotional wave of terror and
remorse. It is the tour guide again who tells him it would not be a good
idea to insult the host. In the dream, he asks himself , why would it
scare me to insult the host if I have no idea who the host is? But he has
the feeling of having averted jeopardy, he quickly dismissed the
He went back into the party. Everyone stared at his
He blinks and looks again; many hold and drink from
invisible cups and are half dressed. Each man is in an unhappy jittery
dream. He is quickly overwhelmed with the feeling of not belonging in that
Although the tour guide is watching, he sneaks out into
another less crowded smaller room. Free-ego-child-wild and mischievous
glee overcomes him. He drops and darts under a table whose tablecloth
drops to a few inches above the floor. He is underneath. He is hiding. No
one knows. Again he is suddenly gripped with a joyful childishness that
forces his eyes and mouth into contorted joy.
He can hear voices of
the people talking in the room but he feels safe, hidden, draped on all
sides by white cloth. Someone is about to pull the tablecloth up and find
him; the tips of black shoes intrude under the cloth's edge. He reverts,
atavistically; growling electrified, animal like and launches himself,
snarling, forward. It is a dream within a dream.
A bright light and
he is dreaming, but he knows he is awake; He is not awake but moving,
climbing up a steep stairway ladder pathbridge in a very large room ,
still in line with people in a guided tour, dreaming awake.
tour guide, always just out of view, tells him to keep climbing up a
ladder towards a small room at the top of the stairs.
front of him dreams, wakes up dreaming. He looks to his right as he climbs
by an enormous dome-curved window which makes up the whole upper
He is slowly climbing, feeling very numb. He pauses, stopping
the line of climbing people and places his arms on a curved railing where
the staircase meets the bottom of the window. Cupping his chin on his
hands, he tried to understand what he was seeing but he was so numbed that
what he saw didn't affect him, emotionally.
Outside is blackness.
The Earth and the Moon are far to the right portion of the glass, the
Earth swimming in blue-white haze, except for a large red area which he
saw as the desert of North Africa, or the Arabian peninsula. Far away,
violet splashes of nebulae and points of red pinpoint starlight
intersperse with millions of white stars.
Chin in hands, he leaned
over and said in a sad, wistful, admiring tone, "These people who live at
this estate have some view; "wow what a view!"
The tour guide,
always just out of view, was startled and quickly changed the scene to
that of a unidimensional English garden landscape.
Chin in hands,
still looking out of the window, he said again, but this time looking at
the garden landscape, They do have a nice view."
The tour guide was
startled to hear him repeat, and not realizing that the scene of the
garden had already worked to distract him, over reacted.
thrown into a vivid emotional ecstasy.
The ladder path transformed
into a delicately patterned, dazzlingly ornate inlaid wood design cryptic
and deep in beauty and complexity. He was forced to kneel and examine it,
and turned away from the window.
Powerful awe, love, admiration and
godlike reverence flashed through his mind and body, at the wood-inlay
staircase, suspended in air, lushly constructed in multi-colored wood. An
awe, tingling through his skin, thrilled him.
He felt a powerful,
spiritual deep love for the construction, the unknown artist, the wood
pattern, and became so absorbed, that he forgot what he had seen outside
The sleeping line of climbing people was stopped by his
fawning and repeated examination of the simple metal staircase. He
repeatedly retraced his steps to further examine it.
guide, always just out of sight, had had enough. A paternal, parental
impatient voice said in his head, "just keep going; it will be there for
you to see when you get back." But things change in dreams he tells
himself and does not trust that it will be there again for him when he
The guide had made the staircase the unrightful recipient
of the awe, rather then the scene outside the window, so that he would not
remember; but when he woke he did remember.
He awoke exhausted,
with a dull headache and a nose bleed; more tired getting up then he had
been going to bed.
He opened the door, slowly and peeked down the
hall; there was no one in evidence. He threw on his red-striped, tattered
bathrobe, full of holes, and barefoot, stole out into the hallway, leaving
his door barely ajar. He went to the stairwell; chose the second floor,
and peeked up and down the hallway from his vantage point behind a hinge
of the stairway door. It was five fifteen a.m. He bolted quickly down the
hall and turning quickly in reverse, in three swift movements, picked up,
first, from one doormat, a bottle of fresh milk, from a second, a small
bag of bakery delivered fresh rolls, and finally scooped up a morning;
paper, under his arm, from a third. His heart pounding, lest he be
detected, he ran up, breathless, to the fourth floor his stolen breakfast
in hand. He locked the door.
He heard, in his head a voice and a
buzz. It was a slight ring in his left ear. that odd inner ear ringing
tone, one hears sometimes for no apparent reason. Concentrate on it, it
gets louder; pay no attention, it dissipates. The ringing in his ear got
louder and he shook his head to stop it. It was, he thought, clanging loud
enough for the neighbors to hear it coming from his head. He wildly moved
his head to stop it. It grew louder. The sound moved deeper into his head
and melted into a humming vibration. The whole left side of his head was
He heard a voice which began quietly, but he couldn't
understand anything, not a single word. He began to pray silently to St.
Jude, as he stood there alone with a voice grinding out sounds in his
head. His heart pounded and his jaw fell slightly open as the stolen
groceries fell from his grasp to the floor. He held his hands to his ears,
supporting his head, and tried not to scream and run.
people in insane asylums who heard voices could be like him or him like
He was climbing to the small room at the top of the ladder.
He was dreaming awake.
The high school basketball game was in the
last quarter; the crowd's howl and the tattoo of the drums from the drill
team seemed miles away. He and she had left the game and now sat on the
sweet smelling lawn of the school, in the night listening to the sounds of
the game behind them.
He was cloaked in blackness; dreaming a
memory: she was in his arms; soft, dark., long brown hair brushed his
face; coquettish liquid dark eyes looked deeply into his. He returned her
gaze with a passionate, loving sensuality. She held his hand; it was cool
and slender. A mysterious and provocative incense coursed through his
blood and made him dizzy with desire for her. He moaned and leaned
She pressed her slim body close to his and he lowered his
eyes closing his lids, flushed with lust.
She suddenly stiffened
and withdrew, and he sensed a wave of disgust and disdain from her wash
over him; he was crushed; why had the sweetness of the dream
She withdrew, backwards into the blackness. The girl in his
dream stared at him; in her hands was a funnel-shaped cup, attached to a
tube receptacle. He was hurt and puzzled and said "Is that all, Is that
all you want?"
Before the darkness came and swallowed him he
realized that her coldness was the coldness of one running an experiment;
caring more about the outcome then the methods used.
Even though he
was dreaming he knew he was awake and he struggled with a feeling if
hopelessness in the dawning realization of his experience.
dispassionate, unblinking eyes recorded both psychic and anatomical
responses; they registered his emotional responses, categorizing,
summarizing, analyzing and judging him. The alien administered a
progressive personality assessment, a standard psychological measurement
exam which had more subtle discernment and calibration of the soul than
any earthbound measurement.
The creature stared directly into the
priest's eyes and induced a delusional thought system; a gauntlet of
nightmares, a funhouse of terrors. A series of three-dimensional scenarios
in crystal clear virtual reality were projected into the priest's mind.
His reactions, nuances of feelings to the projected visions, were
carefully registered and recorded. The aliens had already found a genetic
site for dissocial psychopaths and for people of moral
First he was pushed into a small room with white walls
and a red. bloody, gory floor. In the center of the room, back to the
viewer were two butchers, white coats splashed with blood, busily chopping
infants into butcher cuts. He was urged to enter the room but his mind
rebelled in horror and fear and he refused. The horror of the chopped
infants saddened him, tightened his stomach and filled him deeply with
fear. He trembled in terror. "Who in God's name could bring himself to do
such an evil thing?"
He was thrust into another scene; a
rubble-strewn street with burnt shells of vehicles, some upside down
surrounded by shells of fragmented buildings which were precariously
perched. In the background smoke and flame issued all around. At his feet,
injured, partly buried in the rubble was a frail old woman with a kerchief
covering her head. She weakly gestered for help. He knelt beside her, but
his eyes were on the building above him which began to weaken and shift.
Fear of death overcomes him and in agony he runs from the scene, leaving
her behind. He is stricken with grief and guilt over the decision, but he
feels grateful for having escaped unscathed.
All of this is
carefully registered and recorded. Again he is thrust into another scene,
the small, dark creature staring fixedly into his eyes. He hears the
repeated cracking sound of a whip on flesh overlaid with screaming pleas
of mercy. It is just around the corner.
Shrieks and howls in loud,
deep agony accompany satanic laughter. Fear crawls down his arms and legs.
He is psychically prodded to look within. A tall, muscular, athletic young
man with black hair is writhing in pain, chained by arms and legs to a
wall-mounted wood cross. A black-hooded inquisitor, demonically laughing
delivers loud, whip-snapping cracks onto the screaming man' s back who
pleads for mercy in fervent agony. Blood and tissue, noisily splatter the
walls at each stroke.
The priest's mind shrank back in mortal
terror, disgust and raw horror.
Next, a thick-bodied, squat,
gangster-type sat at a table playing solitaire. With a growl rich and deep
with menace he picked up a hand gun and told the priest that he was going
to kill him. The priest nodded in silent placation and tacit agreement.
The gangster, never taking his eyes from his cards placed the gun at the
far end of the table close to the priest. The killer assured the priest
that no matter what the priest did, he would definitely murder him. He was
urged to go for the gun. The priest's mind eye measured the distance
between the gangster's hand and the gun and his own relative distance from
the gun; he decided it was probably a trap and did not go for the
The next scenario - a beautiful woman, a Hollywood femme
fatale with short skirt, long white gloves, very long legs and dark hair
told him that she was in danger and needed him to go with her to help her.
He patently refused, smelling danger, seeing through the disguise. She
promised him her body if he would help her. He abjectly refused. The alien
introduced a promissory image of her long limbs lasciviously intertwined
with his. He still refused.
The next psychic measurement was for
honesty and guilt; he was left in a room with money piled high on a table.
He was urged to fill his cassock pockets and he did. He as made to feel
the slow burn of shame.
At the end of the exam, bereft of strength,
disheartened, deeply depressed, he sat in the spacecraft drained and
exhausted. At this point the alien applied an artistic touch to the
delusion. It gave closure and diverted the priest's mind, but it also
mercifully alleviated his soul's suffering. Each main character from each
scenario filed in one by one with knowing smiles and sat at a table in
front of him. He was at the center of a "Mission Impossible"
With the dawning realization that these people were
simply players, conspiring to fool him, two things happened; surprise at
the complexity of the dream, and awe, at the enormity of the staging, by
seeming strangers. This revelation replaced the angst this series of
visions had provoked. It also underlined the alien's total duplicity; when
the alien saw the priest's slow smile and lightening of spirit he brought
him out of the delusion and back into blackness. When his alarm rang, he
swung his feet onto the floor.
"Dreadful dream," he thought "My
god, what a dreadful dream; someone was butchering babies; horrible