Paranormal

https://youtu.be/2ci0WDR30xE

T                                                 Time Tunnel

                  Time Tunnel

                                      Redemption     

Last night i faced my fears
The ghosts that haunted me for years
I entered the cemetery, my heart in my hands
To you i shall deliver it
To you i owe my past
I ask for your forgiveness
While screaming out my lungs
I plead for you to hear me
Spare my soul and bring me healing
I plead for you to hear me
Take my heart that is still beating
I plead for you to hear me
I am sorry that yours does not.

                                 Being wird

                                     The Forest        

Antiquely called The Forest of the Revenants.
Commonly known as "The Forest of the Ghosts" by children .
The rare fungi that populates its detritus is one of the most notable discoveries of this century.
This fungus is the underlying cause of the somnambulous horde that continuously wanders the forest. The notoriety of this fact led it to become it's eponym.
Until the last century, it was widely, and erroneously, believed that the forest was occupied by the common dead, or even by ghosts.
The density and the great expanse of the forest, along with the fear people felt towards the possibility of getting lost there, led to the postponement of its eventual exploration and careful investigation.
Upon investigation, it was discovered that it was actually living people who had their nervous systems compromised by inhaling the high concentration of spores.
As it is now well known, these spores contain a psychoactive substance that permanently damages many areas of the brain, causing the unfortunate victims to wander aimlessly through the forest.
What is not commonly known is that these spores have the unique quality of behaving like a virus, altering the DNA of the host, specifically the alleles, in a way that it produces the effect of significantly retarding aging.
Upon further investigation it was discovered that some of the people that wandered there, are actually hundreds of years old.
While most victims soon die out of thirst, hunger, or worse fates, some are taken care of by a few sparse and diligent sects which feed, bathe, clothe, guard, and worship a select number of prominent people.

It is documented that the origin of some of these sects stem from the initial efforts of the loved ones of some of the people which lived in the mountain.
They traditionally knew somewhat effective methods of avoiding contamination by inhalation, and were the pioneers who built the first trails across the forest.
Today the most enthusiastic sects stem from the effort and obsession of the lovers of these victims, which then became objects of lust and adoration of subsequent generations.
Though the people that wander there are essentially harmless, the high concentration of spores still pose a threat.
That is why visitors should stay walking along the trails, and never wander off.
Since the forest is large and dense, it is possible that visitors may not see any of its peripatetic population in a particular visit.
The forest is apt for children to visit under the supervision of adults, but under no circumstance shall they be present during the evening, when the amorous sects ritually manifest themselves.
This precaution is taken however far away they may be, as the sounds echo and can travel a considerable distance. 

                                          Halloweed    

Late October afternoon...Mam and I sat on our front porch, enjoying the view of the Amish farmland all around us. We watched idly as a lone car came up the road, swerved suddenly, then lurched to a stop on its remaining three tires. An Englischer lady got out, looked in consternation at the tire, then hopefully up to us on the porch.
"Gut day to ya," I called, friendly-like. "Looks like ya could use some help, ja?"
"I sure could," she answered, relieved. "No phone signal out here in Amish country."
"I'll get my Dat; he can hitch Bess up and give ya a ride to town to get your tire fixed," I told her. "It's only three miles from here to Lancaster. We'll have ya there in no time."
Mam and the Englischer lady were chatting about our jack o'lanterns on the porch when Dat and I returned. "But I thought you Amish didn't celebrate Halloween? Isn't it against your religion?" she asked.
"Ach, we love Halloween,"Dat replied, pulling a butcher knife from his tool apron. "But then, we're not Amish," and he grabbed the lady, and cut her throat neat and quick as you please. Mam had a big crock handy, and.my mouth watered as I saw all that blood gushing out, warm and deep red. Soon as the lady had bled out, Dat hauled her around to the back porch. We'd make sausages out of the rest of her, to take to Lancaster on Market Day. We only needed the blood.
I guess Englischers would call us vampires, of a sort. We've lived among the Amish for hundreds of years. They don't celebrate Halloween, but we do. We love Halloween so much, we pretty much wear our Amish costumes year 'round. I walked down to the road to pick up the nail board Dat had put out to catch a car. It wouldn't do to have a neighbor's horse step on it.
It's only three miles from here to Lancaster, but once we catch someone, they usually never make it to town....