Similarities - Part 2
After underhandedly supplanting a fear of unknown origin within me, unexpectedly my heart's rhythm began slowing down. In catching me completely unaware, I gasped from the swift suddenness of the change.It slowed so much that each new heartbeat became louder and more pronounced than the previous as the spasmodic muscle began echoingin my eardrums. "Oh my God!" I screamed in my mind when I thought I might be having a heart attack. But within a few seconds I un- assuredly dismissed that because I felt no chest pain associated with one. In shifting my thoughts to the stranger as I glared into his eyes, an ever darker and more sinister appeal seemed to suddenly latch upon his face. In rapidly wondering if he could mentally cause a heart attack upon someone using telepathy, such an unheard of power caused me to emotionally become further unglued. I kept wondering just who or what are you? I knew by now that I was suddenly dealing with something that was much more powerful than I could imagine. His baleful expression omitted great uneasiness. In realizing that I still had the ability to reason, I knew my brain was functioning normally. But that was a small blessing, for if I weren't able to move after thinking about ways to defend myself; it would still render me helpless as a small child. Besieged by a cacophony of impressions and emotion of just who this guy is and what he was doing, frightful desperation suddenly became my modus operandi to survive. My mind franticly searched for what to do. I must confess with my heart being forced into a near death-like rhythm, the thought of possibly dying got greater with each passing second, sending a profound fear to encroach the outer boundaries of my mind. My stretched-out emotions allowed logic and common sense to be overshadowed by this ever-increasing fear within. I thought it very strange, however, when I sensed the people seated around me were oblivious to my fast developing predicament. It was like this stuff wasn't even taking place in front of them, cementing even further those feelings of helplessness that were rapidly swirling impetuously inside of me. I knew complete incapacitation had unfortunately arrived when archaic feelings of forced surrender seemed to swallow me. With the last of my energy and ability to resist the stranger flowing out of me, it certainly felt I was rapidly dying and that my life would soon be over. Fast reducing blood pressure left me stultified from the sudden lack of oxygen my body needed to function properly. I prayed no harm would come to me especially from the fast transition of the sudden chemical imbalance I was experiencing. After about fifteen or twenty seconds this unknown sensation abruptly ceased, leaving me with an extremely slowed heartbeat of less than, probably, sixty beats per minute. My body temperature continued to drop dangerously lower with each passing second giving birth to a maligning stillness that was disturbingly unsettling. With now having overwhelming and undeniable proof that the stranger's intent upon me was anything but good, the situation had become frightfully alarming. In other words, I was scared shitless. An ensuing cold from the lack of proper blood flow was intensely numbing and was becoming my most immediate threat to stay alive. Breathing precariously became cumbersome, raspy and damn difficult, forcing me to breathe through my mouth. I wasn't even allowed to shiver, as my body temperature felt like it was approaching freezing. And now freezing to death was becoming a virtual possibility. I needed to quickly understand what was going on and why. Time was running out. By this time my brain felt half-frozen to its surrounding skull. Just to have a thought was becoming darn difficult. I began to frantically exert my focus to my freezing brain for, hopefully, execution of nerve impulses for stimulation and warmth. I didn't know what else to do. I did not want to die today. My mental exertion was so great that it unhinged a usually propitious brain while being in this extreme frightful emotional state. It was extended in ways I've never imagined, as I desperately and frantically fought to resist whatever was happening to me just to stay alive. As a result, bizarre images silhouetted by the face of the stranger suddenly began filling my now precarious mind, weird stuff that I've only seen either at the movies or on the sci-fi channel. Assorted demons with twisted faces were flashing in and out of my head. I was wondering if the damn Devil was coming to get me and if eternal damnation was just around the corner. Painful twisted smiles on disfigured demonic faces fore-fronted mammoth piles of human corpses. I could sense the smell of the stench from the rotting flesh. It reminded of the savagery of Adolph Hitler during World War II, but only on a much grander scale. Dogs were heard hysterically yipping in the background. Did these images have any meaning at all? I had no what they meant, if anything. And I began to wonder if I had a one-way ticket to meet the Devil. But at one point all those hellish images abruptly stopped and were supplanted by an image of a small boy who was probably five or six. He was naked and seated in a metal chair much too large for him, with his knees not able to extend past the front edge of it. A subliminal expression of creepiness punctuated his sunken and darkened eyes. A ghostly white complexion made him appear ghoulish. His wrists and ankles were restrained with heavy rope to the arms and legs of that chair. He appeared to be a lost in a place unearthly and evil. But, the image really made my nuts churn when I saw the face of the boy. He disturbingly resembled me; further jettisoning my soul into darker territory. And, as I stared into his abhorred face, his dark demonic-like eyes suddenly spun up to touch mine, startling me so bad that I thought I was going to die right then. The entire scene was way too intense for a predisposed human disposition such as mine. The gentleman, no longer can I describe him as such, was no doubt someone with a much-maligning character. I was totally convinced that he was evil in the absolute worst way and at one point thought that he was an actual instrument of Satan himself. I could no longer afford to second-guess him. As I continued to hypnotically return his odd stare, in my mind he took on the appearance of a street-wise two-bit hustler, someone who was very confident and self-assured with whatever he was doing. The corners of mouth began to have an occasional slight upward twitch, like the nerve endings were being electrically jolted to purposely reveal a slight bothersome and haunting smile underneath. His expression was malicious and extremely bothersome. I thought, is he some kind of damn satanic sociopath? Suddenly, as I continued to be in this near death-like state of mind, he smiled at me in a demeaning and contemptuous way to say, "Why do you say that? Did I say something to upset you?" all the while fully knowing that he had me by my non-sensuous balls. His sudden words yanked me away from those absorbed hellish images to remind me of my last words spoken, which were ‘man; this conversation is getting a little too weird for me.' Unbelievably, he was still trying to make himself appear naïve about everything he was doing. Then in what appeared in my vision to be a complete blur, much like an image created when fast-forwarding on a video player, he dramatically repositioned himself squarely in his seat to look down toward the floor in front of him once again. When his eyes darted away, the physical entrapment of his perverse telepathy suddenly stopped, allowing me to exhaustedly collapse into my seat gasping for each new breath. In automatically embracing the release of his psychological stranglehold, it sent my blood rushing through me, gorging me and forcing me to hold onto my seat from the sudden swiftness of it. The rapid rush of adrenalin was actively emphatic and could have easily done me more harm than good. But, in continually having to catch my breath, it was all I could do just to stay glued in my seat as my body was rapidly adjusting itself back to normal chemical levels. And after a few minutes of being jolted back to reality, the quick transformation began to level off as it got nearer to completing. I remained in my seat to calm myself and to gather in some composure. With the odd stares I was now getting from travelers seated next to me, I now feared I might be carted off somewhere to be questioned for behaving strangely if I didn't gather in some decorum. But, I still remained puzzled by the fact that while I was under the spell of the stranger, my situation remained unnoticed. Could someone not see our odd behavior of the two of us staring at each other? They acted as if I was still seated decorously in my seat reading my newspaper. I could only look upon them confusingly. I began to wonder why did the stranger target me to perform such mental theatrics on? Why put me through such a twisted affair when he doesn't know me or I of him? Even though I deduced he used the Internet to obtain my personal information, I didn't know for sure. To question him about anything might stir him to act on impulse to start all over. I definitely didn't want to experience those awful and sadistic images again, so I decided to ask him nothing. But, after several minutes when I finally got strong enough to muster up enough courage just to glance at him, I did so. He now appeared like a wandering soul, homeless perhaps. With control of most of my faculties back, I reasoned maybe he has a prescribed medical condition that causes him to act out such vilifying behavior. Regardless, I now undoubtedly knew he has a powerful mind. When he placed those decadent images within me to have me at the doorway of Hell, seemingly, I knew I couldn't challenge such strength and expect to win. But, just to let him know that I wasn't intimidated by his odd behavior, I gave him a long, firm and leering look before speaking to him in an upbeat and gleeful way, saying, "Hey buddy, I just got to tell you that I have ten brothers and sisters just like you. Thank goodness all of mine are still alive!" I wanted my calculated and spirited comment to sting a little and make him think twice before opening his seemingly discerning mouth next time. I wanted to let him know that I was on to him and the cruel game he was playing. He didn't need to know that I actually did have ten brothers and sisters. That was weird enough. However, he remained mysteriously motionless. And as I glared at him,I dared him to say anything so I could verbally knock him down. What if he was an actual escapee from some mental institution? Unlikely, but one never knows for sure about these kinds of things. Should I continue to think that he's being malevolent at my expense? This stranger had me questioning my own validity of past proven abilities to exercise better judgment. To be quite frank, I wasn't quite sure what to think of him. With him totally ignoring me, again I came to the conclusion that there was only one thing left to do. And that was to end this meeting, hopefully with a little self-preservation intact. So, I said to him in a sympathetic sounding voice to try and respectfully end our conversation, "Hey look, Phil, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just we have so much in common. I'm almost afraid to talk to you any more. Our conversation has become extremely weird, that's all." After a slight upward twist of his neck, his foreboding ominous eyes damn frightful I must tell you, quickly shot up from the floor with a poignant glaze to them to firmly rest upon me. Unbelievably, he looked even more crazed, like some damn psycho or killer perhaps. Again he thoroughly scared me so bad that I thought I might actually wet my pants. His eyes were not just bloodshot anymore. They were entirely red, bloodlike as if belonging to an actual demon. I even had a fleeting thought that the damn Devil was lurking behind them. His frightful face, beginning to glisten from forming beads of sweat, had a twisted perverseness to it like it had just exited Hell. Ice-cold chills raced through me as I instantly became more submerged in this overpowering fear. I was totally convinced during those ten or so seconds when he revealed to me such a devastating looking face that he was actually Satan himself. He looked pure evil and I really thought he still had me marked for death. I was never ever so afraid of anything before. Then if acting in some play, in dramatic fashion he turned away from me, throwing his hands up to cover his nightmarish face to seemingly wanting to hide it. It was like he knew what he had become and now for some unknown reason was ashamed of it. He began to sob as if on cue from some playwright's script. I began screaming in my mind that all of this crap is way too bizarre for reality. I questioned that very thought - is this really happening to me? Was I at home in bed dreaming this stuff? I could hear the rusty screws beginning to squeak as they loosen my sanity. His continuing strange behavior made me feel like I was being sucked into some unknown darkness where again the predacious Devil waited to welcome me. At will, he certainly seemed to be provoking me into thinking self-abnegation. Then, as I leered at him while he was still covering that horrible face, a mumble began to emit itself from in-between his fingers. He said, "If only I would've told Stan that I loved him before he died." His words were so seemingly prophetic, quickly icing-over every pore of my skin. With my personal nightmare continuing, I shockingly now discover that his dead brother has the same name as me. And for some unknown reason the title of my own obituary instantly flashed before me saying, Mysterious Man Dies A Horrible Death As A Result Of Plane Crash! The pilot of this ill-fated plane would be this guy. I clearly could see him laughing the entire time the plane was going down and then crashing into the ground. He seemed that crazed. Why couldn't it happen? What's to stop me from dying this way? In having the same name as his dead brother, it just parallels with so many other things that were similar with him. I was just one snap of a stretched thread away from emotionally losing it. ‘Why are you doing this to me? I don't even know you!' I screamed in my mind. By this time, however, my emotions had become so exhaustingly extended that I don't think I could have spoken with any kind of resemblance of someone with an education. Then he suddenly sat up in his seat and lowered his hands to shockingly reveal his initial former self, the same charismatic individual who was so emotionally distraught at the onset of our conversation. I thought, ‘Man, you're just too doggone weird! Just how in the hell do you do that?' He had me so confused that I didn't know what to think about him. Then he surprisingly said, "You know, Stan, maybe we should just end our conversation right here." And without any more said, he got up to walk over to the other side of the waiting area to lean against the wall. And just like that our conversation was over. My eyes remained firmly attached to him as he walked away. With the back of his clothing wrinkled and wet from sweat, and with his slow walk and hunched shoulders, he appeared pathetic and even destitute. Regardless, I was damn happy to be rid of him. Then, a sudden announcement came blasting across the P.A. to say, Flight 119 to Chicago will be boarding in ten minutes. Please have your tickets and a picture ID available at the gate. Thank you. I was certainly glad to hear that, or was I? I must now decide if I still wanted to board that plane to Chicago. The prospect of dying at all, especially in such a violent way, had me shimmering in my shoes. Would getting on that plane seal my doom, my own death as I certainly thought only a few moments ago when the stranger had me in his psychological grip? He had me so paranoid about my own existence that I would have sworn by up and down to my grandmother that my own death was prominent. And as I continued to look at him and now that I was almost again my logical thinking self, I tried to understand and reason why he did this. Why me? However, I remained mystified as to his behavior. I despised him for what he put me through, but I also have to have respect for such a power, unnerving as it is. With both hands in his pants' pockets and with one foot propped up against the wall for support, the stranger appeared to be scanning others to exercise his mind control on. I looked away in disgust. As my transformation back to my former self was very near completion, along with the return of my strength, it permitted me to come to the inevitable conclusion that it'll be a cold day in Hell before I'll allow someone to sway me again in a direction that I didn't want to go. Even though the experience will remain lodged in my head for a very long time, I cannot allow myself to give it much credence. After all, those nightmarish images took place only in my head and not in the real world. I was the victim of a twisted individual who wanted to amuse himself. And so, after accepting these thoughts as sound and true, I decided to board my scheduled flight to Chicago.