Dead Dog's Tale

  3/22/24 Update: Written in 2017, my encounter with what I believe to be Men In Black or M.I.B has become my most popular and beloved work in my genre of American Horror and of what I term semi-fictionalized fiction. As a lifelong experiencer and abductee, I believe due in part to my top-tier clairvoyant and mediumship skills ( I am the ONLY psychic, medium and occult to have predicted EVERYTHING about COVID-19, the Border Crisis, the 2020 Election etc, starting in 2014 read all about it in my evidentiary proof claim HERE ), I have been involved, in part, some stages of my life more, other times less, with Psychism, Remote Viewing, the Occult and Intelligence, however whose Intelligence exactly, I still don't know, for over 40 years. This was not the first time I have been approached by strange, mostly human, entities, but it certainly stands out as among my most memorable. I thank everyone who has come forward and shared with me their own MIB experiences. I believe I hav

Surprised, I opened my eyes to find myself standing. My gaze was fixed on a vast crystal blue sky. A soft, icy breeze coiling around the hilltop conveyed the morning cold. I began shivering and asking myself how I got here when a glint of silver caught my attention. I looked over my shoulder to see a bright metal disc with a mirror polish, gigantic in proportion, hanging silently above me. Upon my realization, I was suddenly seized with a terrific force. Some invisible vice locked itself around my whole body; the air crushed from my lungs as it gripped me ever tighter against my consent. A loud metallic click resounded as I strained against what bound me and reverberated inside my brain. The disk and I began to interface. A deluge of images flooded my mental processes. I was a human particulate futtering between states of consciousness and dissolving in equal parts terror and astonishment.  Amidst the churning ocean of digital chatter I was drowning in, a single directive emerged, stro

Keeping a low profile at the Dream Catcher RV in Demming, NM, I remained hidden inside a rough-looking 90s C-class RV, letting my travel companion drive and arrange all the needed accommodations. Like a vampire, I would emerge to hunt only at night, cloaked in shadow and covered by darkness.  Blood and tears stain the I-10 E, a corridor of misery for the abducted on their way to be sold and traded, either coming up from or down into Mexico. In 2018, the I-10 E was a low-visibility red-market supply chain feeding Phoenix, AZ, and Las Vegas, NV. I had been summoned to break a particular link in that supply chain.  It was becoming increasingly commonplace for human traffickers using the I-10 E to pad their load with natives from the surrounding reservations, primarily infants and toddlers. In response, a coalition of private financiers who, for many reasons, could not be sanctioned by official Tribal Governments began hiring sympathetic and morally aligned outsides to act as phantom tomah