The Noonday Devil

[PeacefulWarrior]

I found Paul's story, which seems more of a "non-fiction" relation of his own psychic attacks.  What does everyone make of this?  He also has a link to a photograph (near the end of his post) which I found to be frankly scary, how real it is I don't feel qualified to determine.  Anyway, here is what he had posted at strangeminds.com:

The Noonday Devil; Grey Alien Abductions
                      Written by: Paul_Schroeder


                      Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for me,a
                      confirmed atheist until I saw aliens float me out of my body, in my bed at night. Then I
                      knew they were interested in an essence I never suspected I had - a soul.

                      Part of the alarming nature of the unknown is its mysterious link to the known; I awake
                      each night to a lewd exhibition of the merging. I open my eyes and turn to see the
                      digital alarm clock sitting on the lamp table next to my bed and see 12:12 am and
                      1:11 am and 2:22 am and 3:33 am and 4:44 am. This distresses me so badly upon
                      awakening that I cannot think; just a wave of panic that SOMETHING is waking me, as
                      the calculated odds of awakening each night precisely at those specific times is
                      astronomically impossible. The message intended seems to throw me off balance and
                      keep me wrapped in fearful confusion and lets me know that I am being toyed with but
                      yields no greater insight than to let me know that when I sleep I wander amongst
                      monsters and beasties.



                      Sometimes after abductions the interdimentional door, left open, invites the gangster
                      fringe element of the spirit world; sometimes demons are thrown into the equation as
                      spitework for attempts at thwarting abductions. But the unseen sinister world is as real
                      as the nose on your face.



                      The building, called Harold Hall, since renamed, perhaps stands four stories and
                      houses some eighty families. The basement area is the only place I've encountered
                      face to face the entity that followed me home and who stands gauntly by my bed at
                      night and delivers mind blowing dreams. It stands at the intersection of 92nd Street
                      and Fort Hamilton Parkway in brooklyn, not far from Shore Road on the Narrows and
                      abuts the old Army base still there, Fort Hamilton Army Base. I Know nothing of the
                      history of this building except that when I left, sure that anyone who entered the
                      basement would meet it, it seemed to have moved with me. I am straddling the fence
                      of the twilight zone surrounded by harassing, omnipresent, sinister, psychic, tenacious
                      entities whose presence fills me with wonder and indignation. Bless you for your
                      patience; the out-of-body attacks differ from my dreams in their vivid 3-D total
                      sensory envelopement and the inherent visciousness in provoking angst, realistic in
                      every way as compared to consciousness. The perspective is waking to find that I am
                      asleep wrapped in delusional thoughts and scenes, dreams so aligned with negative
                      thoughts that the scenarios reveal that they are imposed by virtue of their worst
                      scenario plots and their vividness. They, whomever these discorporate negative
                      thought entities are, are masters of delusions and I have recognized the raw power of
                      the vividness as more than my murky dream scenarios could ever muster and am
                      convinced that we are dead wrong about the nature of dreaming itself. At night your
                      astral body travels to realms from angelic to demonic, to a spirit world of myriad
                      vibrational levels and the pictures you see on the backs of your eyelids while you rem
                      are not dreams but visits, souvenirs of a greater reality. Like a goldfish who never
                      suspects a greater world beyond the ponds surface, the limited awareness of
                      humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality groping, mouth agape, in
                      total ignorance. Now, that's waxing my verbal virtuosity, dramatically.



                      Sadly, I've only met sharks, not the porpoises, in the ocean currents of
                      unconsciousness between 2 and 6 am and grounding is essential, but how? As we
                      struggle into consciousness each morning, a self-erasing mechanism destroys
                      memories of dreams. Only vague and vivid snippits remain as clues, but how many
                      people can recall dreams that were not dreams at all? I have recall for hours and days
                      afterwards of these impositions, unlike the general amnesia accompanying most of my
                      dreams, all of my life. I assure you that I have shockingly unlearned all Jungian and
                      Freudian concepts of dreams. It's only our own languag's impotence calling these
                      dreams. The Eskimos have myriad words for snow. We have only one word for dreams
                      that often are not dreams which we, ourselves, generate. My experiences, in the
                      extreme, illustrate this undigestible possibility to me. Paul, God bless you for the
                      chance to ventilate and exchange ideas in this horrid realm - horrid because that
                      attacks continue and vary in intensity to the point where I have tacitly accepted all
                      I've told you at the risk of denying everything about the mind and dreams I've ever
                      learned.



                      Description of haunting:

                      At night a large black shapeless mass turns out the lights while you are in the
                      labyrinth of mazes, hallways enroute to storage roomsin the back, and stands in your
                      way laughing evilly. There is a terror and a strong wave of hatred felt. Trying to retrace
                      your way in the darkness back towards the elevator, hugging the walls, brings air blown
                      onto the back of your neck, your name whispered in your ear and your clothing
                      clutched and plucked at by unseen hands. The presence is large and blacker than the
                      darkness surrounding it. You feel a sense of being watched and sense waves of intense
                      hatred which is undeniable. Flashlights fail and dim and blink out when you try to
                      outsmart its turning the lights out. The six floor apartment building ajuts the Fort
                      Hamilton Army Base a quarter mile away and is at the virtual foot of the Brooklyn side
                      of the Verrazzano Bridge. I have been the supt of that building between 1990 and
                      1999 and have encountered that entity through my denial to acceptance to raw fear of
                      it. It has intruded into my dreams, followed me into the elevator and into my bedroom
                      to evoke horrid worst scenario nightmares which betray that it knows my mind better
                      that I do. I avoided the basement, neglected my duties there and was subsequently
                      fired by the management office. This building stands at the intersection of 92nd Street
                      and Fort Hamilton Parkway in Brooklyn, New York. The psychic attacks continue,
                      nonetheless. I am drowsing over the bathroom sink half asleep and yawning,
                      supporting myself with my arms on both sides of the sink, tired, still half asleep naked,
                      when something brushes my face and loins, both just below the sink and just above my
                      face, above the sink. I open my bleary eyes and see an enormous conglomeration of
                      festooned fishhooks surrounding me, hanging from the ceiling across the sink. A
                      filigree chandelier of razor sharp connected fishhooks that I've stumbled onto, stark
                      naked, now with pinching sharp connections at my groin and lip and face that apprise
                      me, quickly panicking now, that I've been deeply hooked in myriad places, into my
                      genitals, pulling through my lip and my cheek and that to move backwards in shock or
                      panic flight is to deeply gaff myself further, inextricably and beyond help. I am
                      attached painfully and as I lift my right arm to gently work out the razor thin fishhook,
                      dozens of others fasten against and bite into my flesh scaring me further into
                      desperation and deeping my angst as I awaken, quickly now, to a gathering sense of
                      panic and helplessness. The hook in my cheek tears deeply into my mouth and the
                      fishhhooks unseen beneath the sink begin to bite deeper and more painfully into me. I
                      am a marionette impaled from face to scrotum and have wandered unknowing into this
                      macrome of razorblade-like fishhooks some madman must have concocted over my
                      sink in my bathroom. The slightest movement brings sharp, painful reminders that I
                      am stuck fast and in a nightmarish predictament I cannot solve as I am screaming, for
                      help from my wife who is asleep in the other room. Opening my mouth to holler, I feel
                      the deeper bite of the hook in the deep muscles of my face and I can only growl and
                      moan loudly, aware that I won't likely be able to reach her ears with my low moaning
                      and am becoming more entrapped with every movement. Like a monsterous windchime
                      of dangling fishhooks, I am trapped and my fear level climbs to near hysteria as I
                      awake suddenly in bed. Again I am aware of the imposed horror for etherial feasting
                      but dazzled at the raw power of the attack, the totality of sensory construction and the
                      visciousness inherent in the scenario. I am beset with demons, negative thought
                      entities who are malevolent and who know our minds much better than we do in
                      projecting telepathic sustained attack. How can you fight something you can't see?
                      This was the first of several creative virtual reality psychic attacks delivered on this
                      night and represent a continued program of spiritual and out of body attacks at the
                      hands of unseen entities who are clearly brilliantly malevolent and tenacious.



                      Submitted by Paul Schroeder for your comment and assistance. Some time ago a
                      friend of my wife's and a group of friends made a trip to historical sites in the Middle
                      East. During the tour she had a chance to visit a cave on one of the hills around the
                      holy city of Makkah. Inside, she was attracted by -she swears it was nothing but- a
                      bright light perched on the cave's wall, and took a picture of it. When she returned
                      home the rolls of film she used during the trip were developed. And she was surprised
                      to see a picture (attached) of a creature she never saw before in her life. She took the
                      picture and showed it to her spiritual teacher. The ustadzah explained that it was
                      Satan in one of its forms, as was described by her teacher decades ago while she was
                      still in school. Subhanallah! She made copies of the picture, my wife took one, and I
                      scanned it for you to see.

                      Click Here...



                      --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                      http://www.abductions-alien.com/satan.jpg



                      The waves of sheer hatred, intense telepathic bursts of raw hatred felt by me in the
                      unseen presence of some of the harassing entities might well echo the demeanor of
                      this clearly interdimentional creature. Note the veination of the rock which bisects its
                      waist like a belt. It is transparent. Again I am convinced that, since a hateful bottom
                      spectrum of the unseen universe exists, I, too, have been grabbed and shaken by
                      demons, large, black, and strong as a bull and that a goodness, top-spectrum of the
                      unseen spirit world MUST exist. I have been snuck into faith by the rear door. The last
                      sentence of the letter accompanying this pix was: MAY ALLAH PROTECT US ALL
                      FROM DEVILS. The photo is authentic and, perhaps, the first I've ever seen of
                      ectoplasmic interdimentional evil. Note the ears and head area edges,unformed, and
                      the hooves and details of physiognomy. It has been suggested by UK experts that this
                      entity ALLOWED itself to be photographed as the rarity of such photos of such clarity
                      belies the elusiveness of these psychic mindreading sinister entities,i call
                      demons.They are horribly real and as psychic vampires are unparalleled.



                      The entity that tortured me was tenacious in following me everywhere I traveled and
                      made a point of letting me know it was with me as soon as I was sure I'd left it behind.
                      Doors would lock when I was showering although I was careful to leave all doors open.
                      Objects would move just within immediate sight and wild evil dreams at nighttime let
                      me know it was well with me despite my having traveled far. By all means, use my
                      comments and nightmare out-of-body attack scenario as a virtual experience.



                      Raw prayer to my spirit helpers to remove this dark entity has finally produced lasting
                      results. No horrid demonic nightmares or grey alien astral abductions have occured,
                      the result of a virtual miracle of faith and request. Seeing an evil, powerful,
                      attacking-with-nightmares demon removed by goodness is awe inspiring and
                      transforming and enlightening. Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have
                      opened all this for me, a confirmed atheist, until I saw aliens float me out of my body,
                      in my bed at night. Then I knew they were interested in an essence that I never
                      suspected I had - a soul.

                      Your astral body travels at night to realms from angelic to demonic, a spirit world of
                      myriad vibrational levels and the pictures you see on the backs of your eyelids while
                      you rem, are not dreams but visits, souvenirs of a greater reality. Like a goldfish who
                      never suspects a greater world beyond the pond's surface, the limited awareness of
                      humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality, groping, mouth agape, in
                      total ignorance. Aliens have failed to hybridize and now invade astrally to abduct,
                      monitor, possess, and to entangle their energies with ours to ride the reincarnation
                      rollercoaster of our auras giving a new meaning to a silent invasion. These are my
                      experiences.



                      www.davidicke.net/emagazine/vol16/articles/schroeder1.html



                      www.illuminati-news.com/schroederbooklet.html



                      www.illuminati-news.com/real_life.htm



                      http://davidicke.com/icke/magazine/vol-4/tapping.html



                      http://www.50megs.com/davidicke/icke/magazine/vol7/metdot.html



                      http://www.davidicke.com/icke/magazine/vol6/priest.html



                      Within a blackness, a voice intoning, resonant and deep, over and over and over. What
                      a beautiful child, such a lovely child. I am walking to a parade. Excited blare of crowds
                      and distant drums and trumpets propel me foward, holding two children, one in each
                      hand, as I rush expectantly eager that these small two experience the thrill and joy of
                      what is obviously a people-lined event just ahead. In my right hand is a small child of
                      perhaps six, in the other a frail, grey, long-armed and long-legged sickly tubular
                      creature-child who couldn't keep up. I swept this odd child up onto my shoulders and
                      felt its joy. It was a handicapped, ailing entity, sadly listless and lifeless. The scene
                      changed, as did the perspective. I was looking down at this tubular diapered child on a
                      bed as I heard that deep resonant voice suggest that I change its diaper. I was never
                      an eager changer of diapers with my own children when they were babies, choosing
                      sometimes to neglectfully leave a full ripe pungent baby for their mother to change,
                      who was due home any moment. I recoiled at the suggestion to nurture and care for it.
                      Both the creature and its toilet needs clearly repulsed me as I examined it closely. I
                      awoke, convinced that my experience was similar to others in attempts to have
                      offspring reunited with somatic abductee parents for nurturance as these hybrids seem
                      to be expiring. And that the word we use, dreams, is simply an inpotent problem with
                      our language's inability to describe it, the experience, in any other way.



                      Mass abductions are the taking of many people in an area at the same time, folding
                      time and space in a manner beyond belief so that time missed is not noticed by
                      abductees. As a loose rule, abductees' soul-personalities have agreed to participate
                      in these abductions at a distant point in time as a spiritual agreement and these
                      people are often virtual peace offerings between warring alien factions as somatic
                      banks to periodically retrieve somatic tissue from people with alien DNA, Most
                      abductees have alien DNA. They locate us as children to begin this tampering and it
                      continues regularly throughout life. I refuse to acknowledge this agreement as this
                      particular personality of mine has been purposely made aware of these intrusions and
                      as such reflect a clear violation of spiritual rights. I have dragged my feet and refused
                      cooperation. They change tactics and redouble their efforts. I enlist the spiritual help
                      from the same dimension that they use to enter and they lend demons into the
                      equation as spitework, muddling the picture. Tell yourself that you will remember and
                      vague and vivid snippits will remain which you can unfurl at leisure by worrying the
                      edges of the snippet - what happened just before and just after will intrude, slowly,u
                      ntil a fuller grasp entails. They now give me screen memories that are dreamlike in
                      nature and wrap me in general blackness at other times so that I awake with
                      nosebleeds, scoop marks and exhaustion without vivid remnants to recall. But the
                      screen memories are so aligned with their negative thoughts that the scenarios reveal
                      that they are imposed by virtue of their worst scenario plots and their vividness. They
                      are masters of delusions and can have you dreaming a snug little dream while they
                      march you around their craft for various nefarious purposes, and most are none the
                      wiser. I resent and frustrate their entrances, approaches and goals when I resist and
                      their tempers ill befit the advanced technology they have. Since they primarily wait
                      until you are in rem sleep, lucid dreaming works well to detect and interact with them
                      and is worth all the trouble it takes to master techniques of lucid dreaming. Prayer
                      works only if it is effective and repetitious and none of the standard appeals to saints
                      and Jesus works, but repeating GOD over and over does set up a different vibrational
                      level that can instantly end an abduction if one had the presence of mind. That's where
                      lucid dreaming comes in. Despair not, as they are psychic and have implants within
                      you that see and hear what you do, repeat often and with severe indignation to leave
                      you alone, now and forever. They'll hear you and then wait and see their reaction.
                      Never fear, they feed etherially from negative fears. Love them away and they'll be
                      puzzled enough to sit down and think things over before they come again. Remember
                      that creeping anxiety is the signature symptom of their intrusion and that if you feel
                      that fear building then they're aleady inside. Treat the anxiety as though it were a
                      person and order it away in the name of God. You'll see that the feeling abates
                      instantly but like yellow jackets at a picnic they unerringly try again, over and over.
                      Fighting them is a 24 hour, 365 day job from now on.

                      I, too, am convinced that effective repeated prayer that repells can and does work for
                      me, intermittently. The entities who abduct are unseen but the entities who assess the
                      testing I've been submitted to are flat like a gumby charactor, white like a refrigerator,
                      tall, hooded and telepathic in nature. The brain is somehow detached from the front of
                      the brain, where one's shoe hangs before one's eyes but one can't discern just what it
                      is. That's what looking out of the crafts window and seeing nebulae and stars was like,
                      precisely stated. The perspective was waking to find me asleep, wrapped in delusional
                      thoughts and scenes. I later discovered that these entities, just outside of sight, were
                      keeping me and a host of others during a mass abduction on short, psychic, surreal
                      leashes of control while manipulating them around the craft for various purposes. The
                      psychic nature of these entities is most uncannily canny and most who experience an
                      abduction will not recall being inside an alien craft or will dismiss these vivid
                      flashbacks as dreams. My only clue was waking with the joy of dreaming about a
                      wonderful wood inlaid staircase that brought me a rapture. It was unfurling backwards
                      in my mind. The events around the picture, and joy recalled at the staircase that
                      revealed it, was a ploy to erase the stars and nebulae I'd seen outside the window; a
                      cruel mind controlling taunt that ultimately backfired for the controlling mind reading
                      entity that imposed it. There is much yet to be remembered.



                      http://www.angelfire.com/zine/TheHaunt/theories.html


                      http://www.bridgeoflove.com/bookstore/icke/magazine/vol16/articles/schroeder1.html


                      http://www.davidicke.com/icke/magazine/vol6/priest.html


                      http://www.50megs.com/davidicke/icke/magazine/vol7/metdot.html


                      http://www.abductions-alien.com/user001.html


                      http://www.davidicke.net/emagazine/vol4/tapping.html


                      http://www.strangeminds.com/work.cfm?workid=182


                      http://www.darksites.com/souls/goth/blackflower/demons.html


                      http://www.strangeminds.com/work.cfm?WorkID=432


                      http://www.abductions-alien.com/satan.jpg

fides quaerens intellectum

[McArthur]

Hi folks,

I gave someone the addy to these forums but he seems to be having trouble signing up and has asked me to post a link to one of his articles here.
(Hope you manage to get signed up Paul)

http://strangeminds.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=437