The assassination of John F. Kennedy started a macabre chain that continues to this day. Oswald killed Kennedy, Jack Ruby killed Oswald, this much we know. What few people are aware of is how far it continued after that.
In 1967 while awaiting retrial for the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald, Ruby died in Parkland Hospital (the place of death of both Oswald and JFK), some say due to the negligence of the doctor overseeing him. A few years following this, that same doctor died in an auto accident while on his way home. The driver of the car that struck him would make a full recovery, though the medical costs would bankrupt him and drive him to a life of crime. A store owner acting in self defense would be the one to claim his life, and so on.
Few have kept full track of the chain up 'til now, or how far from Dallas it's traveled, but many believe it still continues. Fewer still are sure if it started with Oswald and JFK, or if perhaps it goes further back than that... betraying some unknown transgression from President Kennedy's past.
Just be careful out there.
During the Blizard of 1978 in Vermont, I was driving a truck bringing food to people snowed in. I arrived at an intersection that had apparently been completely plowed under with a mound of snow even my 4x4 couldn't pass. I turned my attention to the bare field on either side of the road and decided to just cut through when my eyes became fixed on the glint of a convertible in the middle of the snow covered field with a man in short sleeves sitting behind the wheel. A queer sight to behold in -10 degree temperature and knee-high snow.
Concerned, I got out of the 4x4 and hurried over to him. Strangely enough, my eyes never strayed from focusing on the car and the man inside. By the time I was about 20 feet from the car, I started sweating and sweltering in my heavy snowsuit. Stopping for breath, I realized that I was no longer in the snow-covered clearing, rather on a loosely sandy isthmus connecting two islands reminiscent of somewhere in the South Pacific.
I approached the convertible to find the man reading a map of a place I didn't recognize. The man turned and looked at me, his expression somewhat stunned that I was standing in this tropical setting wearing a cold-weather snowsuit.
"Goin' my way?" He asked.
I hadn't taken my eyes off of his car the entire time. I was only aware of the odd surroundings from the periphery of my vision. I began to back slowly away, then suddenly terror broke over me, I whirled to run.
The second I broke concentration on the convertible, I saw the snow covered field again, and the 4x4 behind me, slowly accumulating a layer of snow on the roof. I looked back around for the convertible but found no signs or tracks of it or the man in it. I got back into the 4x4 as though nothing had happened.
About a week later, I saw a report that said under a snowdrift, in the same field, a man was found in a convertible, frozen to death. The top was jammed down and he evidently hadn't dressed for the blizzard.
A mason, Benjamin Franklin's links to occult secret societies have long been known. In the clip below, the History Channel talks about his involvement in the Hellfire Club, a secret society that conducted black masses and orgies. These bizarre, occult practices are still going on today in secret societies like the Bohemian club.
In 1998, workmen restoring Franklin's London home dug up the remains of six children and four adults hidden below the home. The London Times reported on February 11, 1998:
"Initial estimates are that the bones are about 200 years old and were buried at the time Franklin was living in the house, which was his home from 1757 to 1762, and from 1764 to 1775. Most of the bones show signs of having been dissected, sawn or cut. One skull has been drilled with several holes. Paul Knapman, the Westminster Coroner, said yesterday: "I cannot totally discount the possibility of a crime. There is still a possibility that I may have to hold an inquest."
My grandfather served in the European Theater of Operations during WWII, an experience he rarely talks much about. I've only managed to coax one story out of him.
He and a low-ranking officer (granddad was an enlisted man) were travelling by jeep somewhere in Belgium with a cache of much-needed ammunition. Taking a wrong turn on an unpaved road they first became lost, then began to run low on fuel. They sought to ask some locals for help, as the Belgians were highly sympathetic to the Allied effort.
They spied a small hamlet, made up of fewer than a dozen thatched huts, and began walking towards it. They were met halfway by a group of three men dressed mostly in animal skins, all of whom spoke angrily in a language neither of them understood (not French, not German, and certainly not English).
Negotiations proved futile, and one of the three drew a small rusty knife. The Lieutenant drew his .45 sidearm in return and killed the man when he rushed at them as if to attack. This act scared the other two off.
Eventually they repaired the jeep themselves and found their way back to base by the next day. A report was filed, but not much made of it. The following winter the Lieutenant was killed in an artillery barrage, making my grandfather the only known living witness to the event.
Now what's interesting is what reminded him of the story: we were watching a documentary on the development of language, this one specifically about the Saxon tongue, which thousands of years ago developed into languages like German and English. Granddad remarked how much it sounded like the words he'd heard that day.
They say that the olfactory senses (the sense of smell) is the sense closest linked to memory.
Go on ebay, or to a high-end antiques dealer. Find an item made a good amount of time before you were born that was hermetically sealed, vacuum packed or tightly packaged in some way.
Make sure you are in surroundings of completely neutral smell with little or no wind. Open the package.
The smell should hearken back to your collective subconscious or memory of a past life. If you are successful in choosing the right item, with the right smell, you will have at least a memory flash, or likely a memory flood of years before you were born.
To warm her up, to make her laugh, I tell Marla about the woman in Dear Abby who married a handsome successful mortician and on their wedding night, he made her soak in a tub of ice water until her skin was freezing to the touch, and then he made her lie in bed completely still while he had intercourse with her cold inert body.
The funny thing is this woman had done this as a newlywed, and gone on to do it for the next ten years of marriage and now she was writing to Dear Abby to ask if Abby thought it meant something.
Rumor has it that every halloween during the hours of 2AM and 5AM, there exists a void. You must stand in front of a mirror in a pitch black room with your gaze fixated on the mirror. If you remain in the room when the moment arrives, you will feel a chill seize your body. Place your right hand on the mirror and whisper "I accept." If done correctly, in the mirror there will be a faint image of a fleshless infant with pitch black eyes. He will stare directly into your soul and you will hear the buzzing of flies and nervous whispering. You will not be able to make out the image in the mirror but you will be filled with unspeakable terror. The infant will ask you five questions about events that have occurred within your life. His voice will sound like the rubbing of sandpaper and will be devoid of all emotion. For each question that you answer incorrectly, one of your five senses will be consumed. For each question that is answered correctly, you will be able to recite the name of someone you know. That person will be found dead the next morning, after a night of unimaginable horror, with their flesh removed and their eyes missing.
A secret society meets once every three years at a small diner in West Virginia.
To join, you must come to the American Grill diner located in Cricket at 9:30 PM on September the twenty-first. The only uniform is a heavy overcoat and a green tie.
Order an "Eggs and bacon platter with coffee." The waiter will tell you that the breakfast menu is unavailable, reply, "Well, just the coffee then." You'll be allowed to stay after closing time for the meet.
The meeting itself is a meeting of minds and philosophy regarding immortality. The society is called "The Socratic Method." They hoist their mugs at the beginning and end of the meeting and say "Death to Socrates."
It's rumored a little hemlock is added to the first cup, and an antidote to the last.
On the east bank of the Susquehana river somewhere in central Pennsylvania, there is a small patch of ground where no plants will grow. At the right time of day, at the right time of year, the sun shines directly on this spot. If you stand there at precisely this time, a whirlpool in the river will appear, revealing a trap door leading to a system of identical tunnels. If you can successfully navigate through the maze of tunnels, you will find yourself face down in an alley behind an Irish pub called Kelley's just outside Boston, with no memory of how you got there. In your pocket, you will find a day planner. Important events of the future are described within, but in random order and no dates.
There is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea that does not appear on any map. It cannot be seen from any other island, nor can any other land be seen from it. On this island is a lighthouse, rotting from age and sea water, which is never lit. There is nothing inside it, save for a spiraling staircase that leads to the top, and an ancient, dusty bookcase.
The case is filled with unmarked books, bound in ancient leather, save for a single space. If you remove a book from the shelf, it will fling itself open in your hands, and the words inscribed in it shall start screaming to the air. You must wrestle the book closed and shove it back on the shelf, or the immortal evil contained within its pages shall break free, and you will be forced to take its place, with pages, ink and binding crafted from your own flesh and blood.
However, if you bring the correct book to the island, and place it in the empty space, the lighthouse will light. As long as it is lit, the world shall enjoy an unending paradise, for all the evil in the world will be contained in the lighthouse. And while it is lit, nothing can go in or out.
The only problem; you will be trapped for eternity with all the evil ever known or conceived, by man or god. And the only way to escape, is to douse the light.
Please forgive my bad English, mes amis, but I have a story you may find interesting.
Recently, while I was watching people around the world-famous Notre Dame de Paris cathedral, I noticed an old beggar woman who had a cart full of flashy, coloured items. Rubber ducks, fake flowers, little cubes from an alphabet game... All coloured, all different.
Went here the day after, and I noticed there were less green items, and many, more orange objects in the cart. I also happened to notice a news on the radio, telling that the European currency was really high, while the dollar went down...
Next day, I counted the items.
Just for fun, entered the numbers in my computer, made an Excel file of it, and went on and on, every day for nearly one month.
At the end of the month, I had a picture, a perfect graphic showing me how the yellow, the red, the green, the orange and the blue went up and down. I made the same graphic with a dozen of worldwide currencies. I discovered dollar was the green, euro the orange, deutschmark the yellow, and so on. Every day, Old Lady of the Money Cart shows you what happens on the world.
Now, I wonder about two most disturbing questions...
I never managed to discover any currency matching the white items...
And second: what would happen if someone were to take objects from the cart... or put some items inside ?
Well, mes amis, sorry for my bad English, once again, but, thing about it and keep your eyes open when you get to Paris and around Notre Dame...
A bientot, mes amis...
Le marchand de jouets
You're walking down your street, it's a gray, cloudy, unseasonably cold day.
As the brown leaves swirl about you, you hear, faintly yet distinctly, a baby crying. As you move toward the noise, it becomes the sound of a young girl sobbing. Closer you approach the sound, and as the wind picks up, it is clearly the sound of a young woman screaming. You race toward the corner, and as you near it, the sound becomes that of an old crone choking. Then silence as you turn the corner, revealing nothingg but a puddle of water on the sidewalk. As you look into the puddle, it seems your reflection is delayed by a few seconds...as if it is watching you and then mimicking you...
There is a moment each leap year, at exactly three minutes past three on the morning of February twenty-ninth. If you possess the courage, await that moment in darkened room, with no other present. At that moment, the darkness will deepen. If you were to hold you hand directly before your face, you would not see a thing. But you must not do so. No, for that would be to waste the moment. Instead you must reach out, into that impenetrable darkness.
And it will reach out to you.
An unseen hand will grasp yours. You must not flinch away, nor tighten your grasp. To do so will only slough away more of the decrepit flesh that covers it, and anger its unseen owner. Remain perfectly still, as the withered fingers move over your palm, tracing unknown patterns. Do not move an inch as it crawls slowly up your arm. And most of all, do not even breathe as it caresses your face, touching what cannot be seen.
Should you remain still through this, the hand will be withdrawn and a voice will speak, so close you can feel its breath on your face, smell the scent of decay it carries. It will ask you for one simple piece of information: your name. Answer truthfully. Answer truthfully, and the presence will retreat, leaving only a whisper in the air as the darkness lifts. "It is done."
From that day on, untold good fortune will be yours, and mysterious power. You will lack nothing, and have everything. But in a year, perhaps two, you will feel your skin begin to decay, and smell the sweet smell of death upon your breath...
A 15-year old boy in a small town in Maryland sat down at his computer after getting home from school one day. He turned it on and logged into an instant messaging program, and was then suprised to receive a message from a classmate of his, who had been absent that day.
It consisted of two words; "please come". Confused, the boy sent a reply, asking why he'd been absent that day. After two more messages and fifteen minutes with no response, he decided to get on his bike and head over to his classmate's house. It was a short ride, only about five minutes away.
When he got to the house, he found the door was unlocked. Inside, partially dried blood was splattered over the walls and floors, and an unrecognizable figure was crumpled against the far wall. It was missing an arm and a leg, and bloody streaks on the floor lead away from the body and into the kitchen. The boy slammed the door closed, and immediately called 911 on his cell phone.
When the police arrived, they found three corpses, as well as tracks leading away from the house from the back door. The forensics report concluded that the entire family, the boy's classmate and his parents, had been killed sometime the previous night.
Somewhere in Ohio, there's a soda-vending machine that instead of selling root-beer, inside the can you'll find the cool, carbonated blood of people who go missing on roads in the middle of the night. It does not take paper money, despite having the apparatus necessary.
There's a weird girl who is a member in a popular webcam site. At exactly 3:12AM EST she comes online to start her live show. The rumor says that there's a scar under the left nipple of this girl and if you stare at it for more than 5 minutes, you will have the most unimaginable lewd nightmares for the next 5 days.
In a small suburb of western Detroit, there is a manhole on the road which leads directly down to a dead end. The manhole was originally a large pothole created by two fathers who'd been dared to dig a hole in the middle of the road. They hit a natural shaft leading downwards, and plummeted 200 feet to their death. Sometimes, when homeless people are looking for a warm place, the crawl into the sewers. When the crawl into that manhole, they fall to the bottom, and die.
If you visit France's Cote d'Azur in your lifetime, stay the fuck out of the town called "Blanche". I was there once with my parents, around 8 years ago (I was 12 at that time; we were on a short trip).
Immediately after you enter that town, you notice that the colors of the houses are darker than everything you have seen in your entire life - it's not like they are black or grey, they are normal colors for walls - they just look not right.
After that, you notice the fishy stench - like a friday market... only that you can't see any fish getting sold. The people in the town do have indeed a really weird skin tone, it's really near blue- if I recall correctly, my father said something like "These guys sure look like the sea." We planned to stay in the town for a while, but my mother and my sister were too scared, they insisted of driving on to find a different town. The next town was alright, however the folks of the second town sure told us some very freaky stories about Blanche - we were all glad that we didn't stay there...
If you go to Montpelier, North Dakota, you will find a small school. If you go into the school, and then proceed to the basement, you'll find yourself in a boiler room. Go into the boiler room, and you'll see blood spattered on the walls. On closer inspection, the blood forms a pattern... Words. Before you can read the blood, the lights turn off. You try to leave, but the door has slammed shut and is locked. It is said that fifty years ago, some punk kids locked the janitor in the boiler room while it was malfunctioning, exploded, and killed the janitor and the children. The spirit of the janitor now haunts the school, and lures children into the boiler room where he murders them in an act of revenge.
There is a Wal-Mart somewhere in Indiana, with a concealed trapdoor in the frozen food section. If you tap on the door three times with your left foot, a voice will ask you for a toll. Open the trap door, put three lemons inside and close the door. After ten seconds, you will hear a knock on the trapdoor and find a red piece of paper that tells you two of the following three things: the exact location of your death, the manner of your death, or the exact date and time of your death.
