Surry Investigations

I am literally amazed that there are so many people helping me with my current situation. I am beyond grateful. Reality has been slipping for me; I see things that aren't there, people that are dead; I think I'm in places I couldn't possibly be.

I have "met" some wonderful people this past week who have gone out of their way to help a stranger. I've got everything that I was told I needed for this "ritual" that supposedly will clear up this affliction. I've got my video camera set-up to record the ritual, in case it might be my last living act. I tried to call Novak to come help me set-up the camera for live streaming but he's being a jerk about the fact he doesn't believe in any of this "ritual" stuff and thinks I should just go visit doctors and get medicated. I know it is beyond that, I can feel it; I felt it as I watched the video I was sent by Nathan. Nathan thank you so much for helping gather this stuff and I hope that I do not turn into a rabbit, mushroom, or something worse like dead.

If I survive I'll post the video when I can, which may not be until this coming weekend, and I will let everyone know how it went as soon as I can. If the ritual doesn't work and I don't survive, I want my son to know I love him very much. I may not be the best father and I've made unforgivable mistakes in my past. I wish your mother would let me see you, but please don't blame her for my mistakes. I changed - I'm a better man now, the man I wish I would have been before so I could be the father I wanted to be. I love you.

Everybody who has helped me, thank you again. I'll update you soon if all goes well.

So I have learned that there is some sort of ritual that may help make these nightmares go away. It sounds a little out there to think that stuff like this might actually work, but if it will stop the hallucinations and dreams like I had last night I will do whatever I can.

I need to collect some items and I’m not sure how to go about getting many of them. I assume that the Nicholas who e-mailed me is one of Michael's friends. I think we can try your approach of using video or pictures for the items. Just send me the link if you post it on any of the social video sites.

Here is the list of items I will need:

A candle lit once and then snuffed out by a woman
A black feather held by a man
A pebble held by a boy
A vial of sand or a shell gathered from a body of water by a girl
A red string knotted nine times by a mother in the morning
A clipping from a sapling tree gathered at noon
A rose in bloom plucked at twilight
A piece of bark from an oak, gathered at night
A spray of pine (what is a spray of pine?)

If we do this with video I’ll need someone in the south to have the candle, and I will try to arrange a time with you to light it as I do the ritual. Somebody will need to have the feather in the east and have it pointing east. Another person will have to have a pebble which I assume was once held by a boy somewhere to the west, I wish my ex-wife would let me see my son for this. In the north I will need someone to have the sand or a shell. I'll try to arrange with all of these individuals when to have the items ready.

I’m going to have to have a chant as well, but it says I need some other people to chant with me. I don’t know how I can best do this, any suggestions?

Psyche, guardian of souls, hear me.
These offerings of life are laid before you.
Life paired with death;
youth to age;
child to mother;
male to female;
light to dark.
Fire, water, earth, and air, consecrated to you.
Bless me. Bless me. Bless me.
I am my self. I am my self. I am my self.
Restore my soul, my wholeness, my oneness.
I am my self. I am my self. I am my self.
Restore my balance. Heal my mind.
I am my self. I am my self. I am my self.

I’ll print off pictures of the items, taken from the videos, which will be on the altar and crush them together. I hope this works, I can’t take many more nights of death and torture… and autopsies?

Nicholas, Michael, and everyone else thank you for your suggestions and all the help you are offering me.

Got to Boston and couldn't remember why I was there. My head feels fuzzy, like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s hard to think straight.

I don't remember much about Boston. The hotel staff told me a room had already been reserved for me, but someone else had already been given the room. They apologized and found me another room.

I do remember having a conversation with a big guy in the elevator who was wearing a blue speedo and had drawings all over him. That hallucination was almost as strange as the one I had that convinced me to go to Boston in the first place. Was he the person that I was supposed to talk to? But he seemed in a hurry to be somewhere else – I don’t think he had anything to do with this. I think I will let somebody else figure out his mystery.

Like I said, I don't remember much. I slept a lot, I think. I waited in
the hotel room for something to happen. I thought I might get another
phone call, but then I noticed that my cell phone battery was dead. I
dreamed of a place I think in Egypt. There was a bunch of hieroglyphics
on the walls, it was dark, and a man was trying to claw his way through
a stone wall. It seemed as if he could see me watching him as he sat
down next to a pillar. He reached out with something in his hand, I
couldn't grab it or see what it was. I felt helpless as the man took
his last breath. Before I woke up, I heard a crowd of people, some with
British accents. Sometimes, they would laugh. A bright light flashed a
couple of times, splitting the darkness..

I went back to the airport and tried to get on my flight home. There were so many flight delays – it took forever to get back to Houston. I think I am going to crash now and check my e-mails when I wake up. I’m not sure what to do next.

I don’t know what else to do. I’m in trouble. I’m still not crazy, but I saw a giant mushroom walking in the middle of the street this morning. I know how that sounds, but I also know it was a hallucination, probably brought on by lack of sleep and these headaches.

At the time, I didn’t know it was a hallucination, because… well, because. So I stopped my car, I got out, and I yelled at the mushroom, because it was in my way. Normally, I wouldn’t talk to fungus, because they don’t talk back, but this mushroom just looked at me with its spots, and it pissed me off because I knew it could hear me honking, and I know it heard me yelling.

And the next thing I know, two cops are talking to me. I asked them to get the mushroom out of my way so I could get to the doctor’s office. They said ok, just pull the car over to the side of the road, and then they’d ask me some questions about it, but that stupid mushroom was still just sitting there, laughing with its spots. I pulled over, and the cops wanted my ID. Of course, my wallet is still missing, and I haven’t had time to get new ID. My PI badge was missing, too, of course. They said they were going to have to write me citations for obstructing traffic flow, not carrying identification, and public disturbance. I’m standing there, and I hear one guy mutter to the other that they should probably take me to the hospital for evaluation.

I ran away from them. I jumped over the hood of my car, and I ran. About two blocks away, I ran into one of those ordinary people. She didn’t say anything – she just handed me a card with a weird symbol and a phone number on it. I called and got the same guy who wanted me to come to Boston. Either these folks work for him and he’s legit, or this is all some kind of game.

Either way, the cops are going to be knocking on my door once they run my car’s plates. I’ve got to get out of town. I don’t know what else to do.

My doctor gave me sleeping pills and prescription pain killers. He says he doesn’t see anything wrong with me, but he scheduled a CAT scan, just in case. The pills don’t work. I can’t sleep (not that I want to – god, the nightmares), and I can hardly see. Everything is just a little blurry and fuzzy around the edges.

Those people are still watching me. I can feel their eyes on me, even when I’m in my house with the doors and windows covered. They know I’m here, and they can see me through the walls. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true, I swear.

And I got a phone call. Some guy who knows about my headaches (he must read this blog – yeah, dude, I got your beat – don’t play me) called to tell me to meet him in Boston – that he knows what happened to me, and he can help me. Right.

I’m screening my calls now, so you can just stop it right now, buddy.

Still not crazy, and I’m not paranoid. There are people following me. They look completely ordinary, but they’re hanging around outside my house and my office. When I try to go up and talk to them, something always gets in my way – a car, a trashcan, a damned pigeon – and then they’re gone before I can reach them. Why? Why are they following me? I know what they’re doing – I’m a PI, for cripes’ sake. I can spot a stake-out when I see it.

My head hurts so bad, and I can’t sleep anymore. I’m going to the doctor this afternoon.

My client – the one I was supposed to be working for the day that I had my accident – called yesterday and is understandably upset at the case of mistaken identity. I sincerely apologize for botching the job. I should have been more prepared for the situation.

I discovered when I went to the pharmacy that my wallet is missing. Are you there, God? It’s me, Mikey. Cut it out. Please.

I had more nightmares last night. Two were so vivid that when I woke up, I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t still dreaming – or that the dream wasn’t the reality.

First nightmare: I’m in a forest – a gorgeous, lush forest. I hear music, so I walk toward it and find a campsite in a clearing, beside a road. There are several campfires, and around them are what I think were Vardo wagons – brightly painted in reds, blues, greens, yellows. I can hear laughter and music, but there’s no one there – just the fires with cooking pots over them, the wagons, the smell of food… No horses to pull the wagons.

You know how in dreams, you know when a nightmare is about to start? I got that chest-constricting, mind-numbing feeling, and I tried to run, but I was standing on a platform, tied to a post, and a girl in a black dress trimmed with white lace was standing below me.

She held a torch that smoked. Her hair was black and wild and ragged, but she had gloves that were pure white. She looked like a normal child, but she frightened me – beyond the fright you get when you’re standing on a pile of wood that someone’s about to light. She smiled, and her face blurred, and all I could see were teeth, sharp teeth. She tossed the torch into the woodpile, and there’s fire all around me, and I’m burning…

Second nightmare: I finally drifted off again towards morning. I swear, my skin felt singed, or sunburnt. In this next dream, I saw my son playing on the beach. It was near sunset, and the tide was coming in, and the wind felt cold and wet, like it was autumn. He looked so small at the edge of the water, but he’d built a sandcastle taller than himself. It was sculpted into these amazing towers, flying buttresses, everything. There were flags at the top of the castle, but one of them blew off in the wind.

I was going to go get it for him, but I saw a woman in a black dress bend down to pick it up. She walked toward my son. I started to run toward them, but they were so far away, so small, and my legs felt rubbery, and I couldn’t run very fast. I couldn’t speak above a whisper, couldn’t call to him. The tide was lapping at his heels now, washing some of the castle out from the bottom, and I was afraid it would fall on him.

The woman in black put the flag back on top of the castle. I heard my son say, “That’s not the right flag.” She picked him up, and they suddenly got smaller and smaller, until I could see that they were going into the sand castle. I heard sea birds calling overhead, and the sun went down, and the light was twilight. And I’m still running toward the castle when a huge wave comes up and crashes over the top of it and washes it away.

My ex-wife was less than thrilled that I called her so early in the morning, but I had to check, you know?

There were other nightmares, but I don’t remember those. My head still hurts.

Entry: I’m tempted to delete yesterday’s entry, but I think I’ll leave it because it clearly shows my state of mind when I got home. I must have gone straight to my computer, but I barely remember anything from yesterday afternoon.

That was one of the strangest experiences of my life.

I had a job to do for a client, a parent (can’t go into detail obviously – case files are confidential). I thought I had the right person, but… I don’t know, now. I ended up following two teenage girls. I didn’t mean to scare them. They attacked me, somehow.

I’m not crazy – I know I’m not crazy. I swear, I saw one of them turn into… something. All I remember seeing now is a flash of black. My face is scratched. I thought she was attacking me with her fingernails, maybe, but… I can’t remember, I just can’t remember.

The next thing I remember is that whatever the girl did, she knocked me down, and I heard the other one chanting… My video camera was still rolling, but I dropped it. I think I may have broken it. I’ll try to get the video off of it later, see if it recorded any of this. When she started chanting, I felt… pulled to pieces from the inside. I actually felt myself leaving my body, like I was floating up over the alley. Something else happened… I snapped back into my body, and I got up, grabbed my camera, and ran. I didn’t stop running until my head felt like it was going to explode.

I’m not crazy.

I had nightmares last night, something that hasn’t happened since… for years. I saw war. And disease. Bodies everywhere. Bodies… not human. Fire, bright light. Screams, horrible screams, and the stench of blood and decay. Past, present, future… hell? So vivid. What did they do to me?

Going to the pharmacy to get more painkillers.

I don’t rember getting home. What happened? Haad ajob tody and saw some girls and they attacked Or maybe I had an accident? Need to write a report. Head hurst.