Wraith: The First Attack
A Chapter in the 'Nightmare Chronicles'
My spouse and I had just moved into a new place. We were celebrating freedom from the unholy infestation of ants. Which seemed to have monopolized the entire town we had transferred to.
This celebration consisted of hotdogs and s'mores over a fire at our new neighbors house. Sometime during this get together, I decided to swing by my new place to make some tea. A harmless endeavor, even alone in the dark roughly two blocks away.
On the trip back to this gathering, I started to feel as if I were being watched. Taking special care to avoid well shadowed areas I noticed a black hooded shadow standing a distance away.
Now, I’m all about checking out ghosts and such, but the vibes I got off this shadow was a very distinct deadly, and dangerous one. I chose to avoid that shadow as best I could. Stating outright: “You will stay away from me.”
And it did. But it watched from afar until we went to bed that night around twelve thirty.
I had fallen asleep quickly and found myself in a cemetery. It was night, but the world was lit with moonlight.
Have you ever been on a blind date? Did that date ever result in being stuck with a predatory stalker? Potentially a serial killer to boot?
This dream began a lot like that. The cemetery seemed both an eerie and romantic place. But in place of my husband was a very pale blond haired, blue eyed younger man.
“I love you. But you deserve to know the truth. I’m a murderer. I love killing people. But you’re so pretty, so beautiful both inside and out that it’s overwhelming me. You make me want to stop killing.”
Special P.S.A.—dark entities lie. If you ever dream of something like this, be skeptical. Feel this skepticism in your heart. In the core of every single cell that makes you up.
In this dream, I was skeptical. I remember doubting every word that came out of this boys mouth. I stayed silent, questioning everything. This doubt seemed to be noticed by the man. With every silent second, he became more agitated.
Eventually anger got the best of him. He slapped me for my silence. At this point I turned to leave this strange cemetery.
Upon turning my back, I felt a painful sensation in my back. It was as if something was clawing at my insides.
I turned around and in place of the blond-haired man was a grey skinned, white haired creature. Where the whites of its eyes should have been, they were black. His irises were an arctic-white like blue. There were no lips. Just a black, and yellowed toothy smile. Every tooth pointed razor sharp.
I could feel myself gasping for air, noticing a clawed bloody set of hands. One held my liver, the other, my kidney.
“You’re mine,” were the words that echoed in my head when I woke a mere hour later. If I had the ability to sweat, I probably would have most certainly been sweating. I was trembling with fear, and my back was still hurting from the dream.
I couldn’t rouse my spouse after that short, horrific nightmare. I watched Futurama in a brightly lit Living room until dawn that night.
After asking around some of my spiritually enlightened groups on the internet. I learned that entity was a wraith.
The south is full of restless entities. This particular entity was especially stubborn. And to my horror, and anger, this was not the only interaction between me and it.
The second attack came months later, and that wraith rued the night it decided to worry me. But that’s for another chapter.