posted on Sep, 18 2008 @ 04:38 AM
He awoke to his alarm clock at 0430 grudgingly. It was a cold October morning. The delicious warmth of the blankets and his two dogs sandwiching him
in heat made the task even more difficult. He could smell the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee awaiting him. "Best invention since sliced toast he
thought, preprogramable coffee makers". But like a Pavlov dog he walked across the room to turn off the infernal bleeping. He learned long ago he
could not be trusted with it on the nightstand at arms reach.
Work beckoned. "Got to make the donughts" to bring home the duckies, common colloquialism used in his sector of South Cleveland came to mind.
After pouring his first cup of the wearys elixir of neuron firing juice he grabbed up his clean set of underwear, socks and hospital scrubs he
thoughtfully lays out the night before.
He is precise and methodical in most all actions. A 20yr BMT whose world is composed of repairs big and small to advanced medical equipment. He is
happiest sitting beside his sprawling tool chest. Some of his equipment could feed a family for months on the block. The tougher nut to crack the
better. Challenges just juice him like a pit bull after a rabbit.
A day like any other day. Hohum. Until he took the three steps down from the kitchen and viewed at the back door that which would permanently rip the
doors out his oh so perfectly logical and tidy mind. An entity of sorts. Somewhere between the size of a possum and large rat. Black as a black hole
with red beady eyes that moved in frames like one might imagine a card deck of pictographs.
It stood at the correct side of door for dismissal. To his absolute horror it was obviously telepathic, speaking without speaking to his mind. It
wanted out. And it wanted out now. Furtively moving in frames and almost pawing at door.
Feeling every hair follicle rise in the hackles of his neck and reeling from the initial shock, he found himself absolutely frozen in place. Except
for the coffeed hand that was going from shakes to a full blown seizure. Seconds later he sees his trusty black lab Bruno at the top of the
Which in itself is unusual. Bruno alway sacks out till the man gets out of the shower and knows he will get the early morning short walk and scooby
snack before he leaves. Bruno is a big boy. 95lb's of don't come around here uninvited. Fiercely loyal and territorial. He always was a bit of an
odd sort even as a pup when rescued from the local APL.
The man looks from the entity to the dog, eyes darting, head not moving three times. As if on cue, Bruno descends the three stairs. And takes one look
at IT. IT freaks, nearly running over the man's foot hightailing to the basement with Bruno in hot pursuit. The man listens for any kind of nails or
sound from the entity, there is none. But he is certain he hears the high pitched telepathic screams and curses of the hell beast.
He watched as it literally disappeared into the basement door. Just, poof, gone. Bruno does not even bother scratching at the door. Stands there for a
moment, and progresses back up the steps with a look that could only be described as sheer wonder.
So he gathers himself. Gets his shower in, walks the dogs per usual. And heads off to work. But this day will go down as no other day. The fine
threading of his perfectly logical mind is kinked and shredded. It will incorporate itself into his further understanding or lack there of in the
This is not fiction. It is fact. And it happened to me. 2004.
[edit on 9/18/2008 by jpm1602]