A Shapeshifting Cemetery Spirit

On a grey Wednesday evening, raucus thunder accompanied my drive to meet a parnormal team a few towns over. Huge lightning bolts were a sign: the air was full of chaos and strange.

On this particular evening, I found myself in Palmerton to aid Blue Mountain Paranormal Society & an investigation of a residence with "suspicious of ghosts."

A sudden downfall chased us all the way to the front door where we were met by a teenage girl.  She had long legs, even longer blond hair and skin boasting of the Palmerton pool side tan. Then I noticed that the premise was cluttered with hundreds of antiques and collectibles from previous decades. The interior smelled of vanilla or sugar cookie from candles burning.

After greeting the family and checking in with all of my usual questions, Jake and I headed upstairs to the teenage daughters bedroom where majority of the activity was taking place. Lightning flashed in the small loft space, dI found a space to park myself and

tune in to the energetic vibe of the house, everything and everyone in it.

Images of Ouiga board then a large graveyard on a hillside.  A gargoyle coming to life and following two blond girls.

"Whatever is here, is not a family friend and it's attached to the children. Is there more than one daughter?" I asked.

"Yes." Thunder boomed.

We proceeded to the other daughters bedroom. I sat on her twin bed, closed my eyes and became alarmed when faced with a new reality. Lightening, lit up the image of it; sitting on the bed next to me, swinging its head back and forth like a pendulum. It grinned ear to ungodly ear, a gargoyle.

It smiled so wide. Thunder. Then it chuckled at us. I reached out my left hand to touch it. Stone.

I began to report everything happening to Jake.

Gulp. I had all the info I needed. So we descended to the first floor. This peculiar creature ran back and forth a top the stairs like a dog. "We got an EVP of footsteps back and forth on the stairs." Jake reported. Fantastic. I thought. Evidence.

In the first floor in the parlor, I touched an old piano nothing. No significant or negative memory. I sat on the wooden bench across from it, Jake explained where the cameras were set up on the night of the investigation. As he spoke, a tall, dark, humanoid figure entered through the wall and proceeded up the stairs . He said it was also caught on film

"The man is separate from the gargoyle upstairs. It's a worker who doesn't want to give up his day job, coming home from his shift. It's an echo of time, space and that guys reality."

Lightening. Then in my minds eyes, a huge wave of fire, coals burning and dark, black smudged hands.  "What's your name?" I repeated until recieving a response:

"Buddy."

When we finally met with the family again. I asked for the daughter be present.

"Which of you played with the Ouija board and spent time in the Graveyard?" I asked.

"We both did." The apprehensive teen responded.

"You invited something into your home that night and from what I can tell, it's attracted to you and your sister - like - (I pointed to the vanilla Yankee candle) because it loves your light. It lives in your attic space just next to your loft."

I had the mother conference in the other sister. She thoroughly described stories about the prophetic dreams since childhood, I instructed that as her and her sister go forth in life, with Ouija boards or exploring any small or large necropolis, they need to summons their higher power to protect them and cover them in care. Their bright aura's were like shiny objects to crows.  I explained they had a direct psychic knowing rooted in their family lineage and confirmed when Mom sharing stories of five brothers and sisters all having the same feelings and dreams in times of social chaos.

I made them aware of "Buddy"  and told them how he connects with Dad's energy, who is also a blue collar woker. He is not going to harm a fly just an echo of time capture within the walls of house.

Because the teen no longer wished to be roomates with a cemetary gargoyle living in her loft space, I escorted him out. He didn't fight me on it. He just went.

Driving home in the remainder of the storm that evening I didn't know what to think. Gargoyle?  Really? What is this life?

Cue Unicorn, fairy or garden gnome!  I called my mentor to ask about this most unusual uncovering.  

Arlene mentioned such the figure showing itself to me in such a way because of it's own perception or how it wished to be percieved. She explained that it could have been a hideously disfigured human, not crossed over. taking on new form. She shared a very similar story. And immediately, I was at ease.

The teenage girl still living in the house remarked that she saw "the gargoyle entitiy ' as the little boy from a top the stairs in the movie "The Ring" so alarm bells rang true when Arlene recounted her tale.

"We got an EVP in the loft" Jake called. "A voice said 'look at the lights." 

The shapeshifting, cemetery spirit loved the light that wasn't present in the dwelling where he found himself post mortem.

That night, I dreamt of vampires and awoke wondering what details and characters of infamous supernatural tales, were non-fiction, and just documented or channeled as the imaginative and incredible. Could it be that some infamous scary characters then are and were not from the imagination at all? Thank you for reading. XOXO Michelle

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