An Ominous Message

Though I have had many personally notable paranormal experiences in my lifetime, one of the most intriguing, and possibly ominous, actually occurred relatively recently, a few years ago now in the early days of 2007, while I was recovering from an operation in a local hospital. I had been with my then lover for around six months, and had already began to help her unravel the tangled web of magical mumbo jumbo which she had gotten herself into before we had met, the relatively routine abscess operation and subsequent two day stay in Newham General hospital allowing me some time to think, and considering the new two pence piece sized hole nestling painfully in my right armpit after it's removal, the motivation to do precious little else.

I will openly admit that I had been under full anesthetic during the operation itself, and had this experience come to pass within twelve hours or so of my regaining consciousness then I would have probably dismissed it as a simple, if unnerving, side effect of the drugs which the anesthesiologist had pumped into my bloodstream, though the truth of the matter is that I had already slept the aesthetic off that morning, and had tried to sleep later the afternoon, for no other reason than to alleviate the boredom which is prevalent in such places, to no avail. I was alert, awake and very much of sound body and mind when the below incident occurred, which no doubt explains why I remember it so vividly.

I was all alone in a side room off the main ward, sitting on the end of my bed looking listlessly out of the window over the roof of the hospital as the clouds rolled over, the prospect of another night spent in the building dampening my already deflated spirits far more than the slowly building rain ever could. Yet even as I sat there I was suddenly overtaken with such a compulsion to sleep that I indeed thought that the anesthesia had kicked in again, and laying down on my side facing the window I passed into a deep and fitful slumber.

And then, even though I realized that I was still dreaming, I seemed to be awake, my already drab surroundings colorless but largely unchanged, my self preservation instinct screaming that I needed to force myself into motion and roll onto my other side, away from the window and towards the door of my room, where I knew something was waiting.

The entity in question appeared, at first, to be a young girl of no older than ten or eleven, wearing an old fashioned pastel blue party dress, the kind with puffy sleeves and a long, ankle length pleated skirt, and long blonde hair tied into ringlets that fell heavily to her shoulders. Yet her face was a blur of motion, indistinct and unknowable, not a blank but rendered to appear so by the all too quick vibration of her features, and her words, when she eventually did speak to me, were deep and forceful way beyond her seemingly tender years.

"[BLANK] are coming. Yours and [BLANK]'s brains are your weapon's. Use them."

The whole time the entity was speaking the images associated with her voice continued to change. The most notable example of this was the outward appearance of the girl herself, for as I watched her dress evaporated and her flesh dissolved, to be replaced by an odd, clear blue gelatinous substance, her face still hidden from my perception by the undulating movements of the ooze which made up her now bloated and hairless frame.

Then she turned and faded from view, to be replaced by an extreme close up of a human brain, the whole mood of the experience suddenly darkening as a blood red filter was placed across my vision, leaving me to stare in confused and paralyzed silence as a gnarled and rusty pair of tongs began to lift little clear plastic bags full of oddly inconsequential items and place them into draws which appeared for a second or two in the surface of the brain tissue itself, before closing again.

When I eventually drifted awake again I was still exhausted, numb with shock and sweating profusely. I rose unsteadily to my feet and headed to the door of my room, intending to go down to the canteen for a can of cola and a chocolate bar to help steady my nerves. Yet my door was locked, the orderly explaining that the old lady in the room next to me had passed away earlier that afternoon, while I had been asleep, and that I would have to stay where I was until they removed the body.

An odd coincidence considering what I had experienced a mere few metres away, and made all the stranger by the fact that I had not been awoken by the understandable commotion caused by the nursing staff's many and varied attempts to revive her.

As for what the entity said, the [BLANK] portions above are not there for dramatic emphasis or to protect the identity of some notable third party, but simply because I could not make out what they were, either at the time or indeed at any point after. And no, I am neither conceited nor deluded enough to believe myself the pawn in some universal prophesy, or even all that important in the grand scheme of things, though the somewhat urgent tone of the message has got me thinking, and has, along with some of the other events which I have described elsewhere on this website, helped to shape my extremely mistrusting view of the paranormal.