I was scanning my blog for another post that I
may have already written about when I stumbled upon another post. Some time ago, I decided to post “Apocalypse Countdown 666” on my blog, chapter by chapter, but after posting the first part, it seems to have completely slipped my
mind. Surprisingly, it has been viewed 1,422 times, and because of that…I will
resume posting the rest of the book. I have rewritten the highlights of the
book in the shortened format, most of which I have already posted in my blog under modified titles, but I haven’t; inshallah, I will.
“Life after Death” is the chapter I consider one of the most
important highlights of my book that I would rank 4th after my discovery of the Beast 666, Time Travel, and the New Jerusalem. If you have been
a follower of my blog, you must have already read about the 3 but not “Life
after Death.” It is a true story of love, death, and friendship. It is about life
after death. It is partly a horror story, and it happened long before the internet was invented. My dilemma is this: the people involved are on Facebook! I will put only their initials, although in
the book (http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/278-1977955-6963129?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Nosca%20Khalid);
I saw no reason not to mention their names, but I am not sure if they will approve of it on Facebook.
Because of my haunted journeys from birth and beyond, the paranormal
phenomenon became one of my fascinations in life. I
never imagined, though, that I would witness another one so bizarre, so unbelievably freaky, and yet so enchantingly touching that regardless of how skeptical one could get...this is one glaring evidence that there is
something real inside of us all; call it spirit if you will that is truly
immortal. This is a true story of love,
death, and friendship. These are actual names, real people...this is the truth
stranger than fiction.
(Note: this story is an excerpt from Apocalypse
Countdown 666, copyrighted by Janus Publishing Co., London. Although the copyright has returned to the author, no part of this story shall be published either in print or on the web without the author’s written consent.)
Long before engineer M and his
wife MC tied the knot and exchanged the “I do” vows of love and till death do
us part, they were my friends.
Our small town is nestled in a valley that, in my view, is more of a plateau surrounded by mountains. With an elevation of more than 3,000 feet above sea level, it is one of the highest
villages in Saudi Arabia. It is one of many breathtaking towns and cities along
the Southern Heights of the Arabian Peninsula.
Engineer M was a consultant
engineer in one of the town's construction companies. His wife, MC, was the hospital dietician. AB and his wife, L, both work in the hospital.
Engineer
KP is not only a friend; we both came from the same Muslim tribe in the south
of the Philippines.
I was
on that day the ambulance physician on call on 24 January 1993. I found M on the
X-ray table, blood trekking from his mouth, ears, and nose. I backstepped with a film of tears clouding my vision. The surgeon was talking to me but I could not
focus my mind at that moment.
After speaking by phone with the neurosurgeon in Assir (Abha) Central Hospital, the hospital surgeon ordered the transfer of the patient immediately. MC, DG (Filipino male nurse), and I were in the ambulance. The two-hour drive seemed like an eternity.
I had to hold back my tears and turn my head every time MC spoke to the
unconscious M, urging him to hang on.
Two
days later...I read a copy of the CT scan report. I knew M would never wake up.
He died the following day.
On the morning of Friday, 7 February 1993, two weeks after the accident, I met engineer KP at the hospital gate. He told me in not so many words that the spirit of his best friend possessed the body of AB and wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t see any good reason why M’s spirit would choose AB. He was in Manila when the accident happened, and they knew each other, but their relationship was not the kind I can really call close friends.
I was
invited to attend the ninth day of prayer for the dead on that same day
(Friday). It was the only subject the Filipino community talked about but the
hushed conversation did not escape the other aliens in the hospital.
DAY 3 (of spirit possession) – Friday, 7 February 1993
AB (Possessed)
bent on his knees during the rosary. I was in the last row observing the room
with special interest. MC (dead M’s wife) led the prayer. AB’s face contorted,
his chin twisting uncontrollably (can’t help being reminded of the exorcist).
He reached for the tissue and blew his nose. L (AB’s wife), who was kneeling on his right, would once in a while nudge him with her elbow to stir him from the
spell. We break up for the night at 9:00 pm.
DAY 4 – Saturday, 8 February 1993
I was
startled by the incessant ringing of the doorbell. The previous night, I had been on duty in the ER, so I had spent the whole day in bed. I found J, a Filipino male Nurse, at my door.
“Doc,” said J, apologizing,
“they are asking if you can come to the camp.” The camp was where the
nightly vigil was being held.
I
peered at my watch. It was 4:14 pm.
“Why?”
I asked.
“AB
(possessed) chased MC (dead M’s wife) in the hospital today. I don’t know the
whole story but you will if you will come.”
“I will
be there,” I said, trying to mask my excitement.
MC is
confused and emotionally freaked out. AB
and L were likewise worn out by the startling tension they had been subjected
to in the events of the last several days.
MC wanted to speak with her husband’s spirit for the last time. She
tried to talk him out of the spell, make him understand, make him accept, but
the terrified L won’t let her husband go again to the nightly vigil. She was
obviously terrified by the bizarre almost horrific incidents of the last 3
days. I was chosen to speak with L and bring possessed AB with me.
“I’m
glad you came,” said AB. He led me to the receiving room.
“I came
to speak to you and L.” I wanted to speak about my purpose.
He
closed the door of the receiving room. There were DG, him, and I in the room.
“I need
to speak to someone who understands.” I feel his desperation for help. “People
most probably think I am crazy or out of my mind. I can’t walk with my head
up.”
“Don’t
torture yourself with those crazy thoughts. We all understand,” I said
reassuringly.
“How
many believe that the spirit of M is inside me? Well...at least not now.” He
brought out a small Bible he kept in the vest pocket of his pajama. “I read
this to keep him away.”
I can
feel the presence of M with certainty. I can see it through AB’s eyes and in
the way he looks and stares. He could be manipulating AB’s words.
“I
don’t know,” I replied. “I have not heard of any dead Muslim, at least not here
in Saudi Arabia who has returned to haunt the living. Jinn...yes! Some people
can be possessed by Jinn, which we commonly call natural spirits. They can
be exorcised, but I don't think it will work even if I can bring someone who knows.
Muslim exorcism will not work with M because he is a Christian. He won’t
understand.”
“What
if he doesn’t leave me alone...will I become crazy?”
“I know
M is listening right now,” I squirmed uncomfortably, “but he has no other
choice but to go. Other spirits will come and take him. People who met an
untimely death become restless. They cannot accept that they are dead so they
do things they usually do without the body. If the living helps each
other...the dead does likewise. They have spirit organizations, too, whose work
is to guide the spirit of those like M. From darkness...they will help him to
the light. In Islam, it is called Barzak, and souls are supposed to stay while
waiting for judgment day. I think it is what Christians call Purgatory. “
“I can
remember everything, but I can’t control it,” said AB, and then, “No! I will
not,” he almost screamed.
“What
is it?” startled, I asked.
“He
wants me to go to the Hospital.”
DG and
I looked at each other and, in unison, turned to the wall clock. It was 6:30 p.m.,
the usual time M fetches MC from the hospital.
“No! I
will not,” repeated AB loudly as if shouting at someone, then he was calm.
“I
know. Spirits of the dead are very lonely, and they are very eager to communicate,” I said to draw M into a conversation, but so far, he had not spoken to me
directly.
“True,”
AB responded. “It was windy and very cold that night. He was naked, sitting in the corner, and very sad.” (5 and 6 February will be remembered as the night
Saudi Arabia shivered. It snowed in some parts of the kingdom.)
AB’s STORY
Day 1, 5 February 1993
“It all started on Wednesday,” recounted AB. “We came to
the villa to attend the prayer for M. There was a spider crawling all over the
place. I told the spider to stay away from the burner or be burned alive. It
climbed over me and circled my head 3 times before crawling down. Someone stepped
on the spider and crashed it. Halfway home on the 15-minute drive...I felt
itchiness on my neck. I scratched it. I could hear M in my mind, asking if he
could communicate through me. I said, “It is okay.”
“Turn
the car back,” I told DG. He turned the car back, but I tried to resist. I said,
“No, turn the car back and drive home.”
We had to drive the car 3 times around the petrol station until finally, M won
over me.
Along
the stone walk to the Villa...I fell on my face and sprawled over the plants.
When I regained consciousness...I was on the sofa with everyone cowering over
me. I felt cold, so I walked to the bedroom. MC (M’s wife), L, E, and MR followed
me to the room. At this point, there was no doubt in everyone’s mind that the
spirit of M was inside me. I asked everyone to leave except MC (M’s wife) and MR (a friend) to stay to allay everyone’s fear.
M and
MC talked about their children and their plans. M insisted that MC continue
with the building of their house. Engineer KP (M’s best friend) tried to enter, but I screamed, “No!” with both of my hands raised. I kissed MC and ran out of
the room sobbing uncontrollably.
“Let us
pray,” I said after some time. I kneeled before the altar, and everybody followed. M inside me was hungry, so he partook of the food on
the altar. I took a cigarette stick from the altar and lit it. I held it in
my left hand while I smoked. I wanted to have it on my right, but my right hand felt very heavy every time I tried, so I kept it on my left hand. (AB doesn’t
smoke. It was the first time I ever heard of the dead coming back and partaking
of the food and smoking from the cigarette placed on the altar for the departed
and in Saudi Arabia of all places.)
DAY 2, 6 February 1993
During
the second stage of the rosary, AB did the unexpected. Agitated, he ran out of the house. He held the doorknob from outside, pulling, pushing, and wailing as
if in pain.
“AB,” engineer
KP begged.
“MC,” Whispered KP, “Speak to
him.”
“Dad,”
MC called tearfully, “it is very cold out there. Please come inside.” Her voice
quivered with tears. “You see! We put off the incense.” Everyone stirred into
action. Windows were thrown open to let the smoke of the burning incense go.
AB
returned to the house and went directly to the bedroom. He came out
thirty minutes later.
“On
Friday,” AB continued, “You know what happened, you were there.”
“How do
you feel now?” I asked.
“I feel
better, at least at this moment. I don’t feel him now, but there is one reason
why he refused to leave,” he squirmed on the flat chair.
“What
is it?”
“I
don’t think it is right, but he is very persistent.”
“You
have to say what it is,” I pressed on. When he whispered it into my ears, I
said, “What?” I was shocked. I knew I was being given the task of delivering
the dead man’s demand.
“Do you
want to speak with MC and get it over with?”
“L
won’t let me.”
I could tell he was being evasive. The spirit knew I was very close to KP and wanted me to deliver the
message.
“I will
speak to her (AB’s wife).”
“No, I’m
not ready, and besides, M is not inside me now. I am trying to probe my mind, but
he is not there.”
“Dr. Khalid,” RA (another friend) called
behind the door, “KP is here asking for you.”
“Let him in,” AB called back
before I could say a word. The entrance door is several feet from the receiving
room’s door. He was standing behind me while I spoke with engineer KP.
“AB is alright,” I said,
“there is no need for him to go (meaning to the camp).” Alright, that means M’s
spirit is gone. I was wrong.
“In that case, I will
bring MC to the Hostel.”
I saw the shocked look on KP’s
face, followed by a loud thud and commotion behind my back. AB was on the floor, paper-white and unconscious. L was at his side, confused and weeping, while RA
was pulling him up from behind. The mention of MC’s name and finally moving out
of their villa to live at the hospital hostel triggered the spirit’s frenzy. We
lifted his body and sat him on the long, flat chair.
I assured L that her husband
would be alright and closed the door. RA, engineer KP, DG, AB (possessed), and I were in the room.
“Shall I control it?” AB murmured
weakly, fighting off the spell.
I said, “No!” this is the
moment of truth...I wanted to add.
AB turned to me, his eyes
glaring. It was scary.
“Dr. Khalid! Tell KP what I
told you.”
“Nope!” I answered amusingly,
“KP is here...you tell him.”
At that moment, KP was sitting
on his left and holding his arm.
“What is it?” KP reacted
frantic at the mention of his name. “Tell me, you know I will do anything for
you.” He pulled the small plastic children’s chair and sat in front of AB face
to face.
AB hesitantly delivered the
dead man’s wish almost inaudibly into KPs ear; I doubt if anyone in the room
understood. I wouldn’t know if I didn’t know beforehand.
KP was speechless. He held his head between his palms while his elbows rested over his knees.
“M, you are asking too much
from your friend,” I said, breaking the silence and biding time for KP. It was the decision of a lifetime—making a pact with the spirit of the dead.
“M,” KP finally spoke. “I
treated you like a brother, and MC is like a sister to me. I will be there for
your family whenever they need me...I promise,” and KP raised his hand in oath.
“Please, leave AB alone; he is exhausted.”
AB nodded.
“Do you have any message for
MC?” I asked.
“I love her,” the spirit (via
AB) mumbled.
Engineer KP’s STORY:
“M, I
am here,” KP looked around in the now empty house. It was eerie. “It is for AB
and L that I am doing this. Come and speak to me.”
(I
learned a few days later that at the moment KP was calling M’s spirit, AB said to his wife, “I am AB speaking to you now, but I have this strong urge to go and
sleep at M’s house.” L and the other Filipino families sleeping in their house
for support stopped him from going. It was the reason they were there to
restrain him, just in case.)
No one
knew except for one friend that engineer KP, after he dropped MC to the hostel, had returned to the empty house to confront the spirit of M. It was the last day the Hospital director had
given to the Filipino community to bring MC to the hostel. It is forbidden for
unmarried female employees to live out. The only friend engineer KP invited to
keep him company understandably declined.
The company’s small compound
for the consultant engineers is isolated in the hills between the town of
Zahran Al Janoub and the Saudi Arabian border with Yemen, a few kilometers away. No other house is visible within miles of the perimeter. It is a terrifying place to confront the spirit of the dead, but then, what are friends for?
The
clock chimed 3:00 am. The only sound in the rolling hills was the generator. KP’s
lids were heavy. He couldn’t fight it anymore...he finally dozed off.
“I
treated you like a brother, and your wife is like a sister to me. I understand
your concern, but I have my own life to live. Please understand...I can’t
promise to marry MC, but I promise I will always be there for them.”
“Only
then,” said KP, “did I realize that he was not alone. There were many others
outside. One by one, they walked into the house. A heavy fellow among them
wrestled me to the ground, forcing me to say yes to M’s wish.”
“Did
you recognize any of them?”
“I had
an unmistakable feeling that the fat guy who pinned me to the ground was Ka’ Erning (He was a friend in the same company who died of a heart attack a year
earlier.)
“Then
what happened?”
“The
heavy guy who had my face to the floor tried to tie my hands behind my back.
The others came and tried to help Ka Erning hold me to the floor, but M
intervened and pushed them away. I broke free and woke up. My entire body, in spite of the cold winter dawn, was perspiring profusely. I walked out of the house,
climbed into my land cruiser, and drove five miles away to our camp.”
DAY 5: THE LAST DAY
I
picked up the phone on the third ring. The emergency room was quiet. It was 7:00 a.m.
“Hello.”
“Doc!”
“Yes,”
it was MR.
“He
wants me to drive him to Najran.”
“Do
it,” I answered anxiously. “He wants to see the place of the accident.”
AB told
me later that he felt completely free of M’s presence when he saw the place
where the accident happened.
EPILOGUE:
Strange,
unbelievable, bizarre; call it as you like. MC resigned from her work several
months later and returned to the Philippines to take care of the children she
had left for the care of her mother. She set up a bakery employing several
people. She is doing very well. Engineer KP moved to another place in Saudi
Arabia when the company sold out to another. The camp was abandoned. AB and L remained
in their works. AB confessed that the experience has changed his outlook on life. He said sorry to all the people he had disagreements with in the past.
The big problem was/is...AB had
opened a portal for the spirits of the dead into his world. He would find them
everywhere, wanting some kind of help. He would see them outside their door or by the windows early in the morning and drive them away. I was once
called to the X-ray department to find AB pale and half-conscious on his chair.
He was in a trance. He pointed to a magazine he was reading. There was someone
in the article he was reading who died and entered his
body (by just reading his name) wanting to communicate. I told him to say
firmly, “No.” When spending his annual leave in Manila, the spirits would follow him everywhere, onto the bus and to the malls. He had to get used to their presence, or he would lose his mind. I tried to convince him to tame the gift
(if you can call it one) and become a professional medium. He was terrified
that they would come in droves if he accepted to become a conduit for the
departed. He spent a fortune trying to close the portal. He sought out
professional psychics, paranormal investigators, and spirit questors. They even
brought him to the famous SPIRIT HILL in my country and bathed him in the
supposedly enchanted stream in the hills.
It
touched our hearts to the point of being pleasantly shocked that the dead
should come back to ask his best friend to marry his wife. How many stories
have you heard of someone marrying his best friend’s wife after he is gone?
People gossip...right? Well, next time, don’t...someone beyond the grave could have fixed the marriage, for who can you trust but
the best among your friends.
(AB, by the way, didn’t know that engineer KP went to the empty house that evening and confronted the spirit of M. Remember...he told his wife he wanted to go to the empty house
and sleep there at the precise moment KP was calling for M’s spirit. He learned
about it several years after the incident when I showed him the final layout of APOCALYPSE COUNTDOWN 666. We resigned from the Ministry of Health in 2000.
My wife and I visited them at their house (Manila) in 2007, but we had to wait
while someone called for them. He told me they were in a prayer meeting. I didn't ask if he was okay, but the prayer meeting kept me wondering. I STILL
SEE DEAD PEOPLE.)
END
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