As I would fall asleep, one begins a descent into a downward spiral as they would awaken inside of a dark, run down building that is on the underpass of HW 83 and Roosevelt Road in a Chicago suburb of Glen Ellyn, Illinois. The place is covered with shards of broken glass, torn pages of the Holy Bible, and doll parts. If one closes their eyes in a place as this, one can see the nightmare that is written within the walls of the Marynoll Seminary. The place had no one in its walls since 1972, almost 27 years. But as one goes into detail of the nightmare, the thoughts that would inhabit one’s mind are those of a dark, brooding paranoia. As one would walk into the place of forgotten horrors, they could feel a pair of cold black eyes staring back at them. The horrors that would stare at them from inside are that similar to one that had been dead for many eons, but looking at him as if it is still alive and following him from room to room. The pair of eyes belong to someone dead, but watching him from beyond the next world. They would say that they were the eyes of a priest that had died in the Marynoll and would brush his ghostly hand on the faces of the sleeping students of the seminary. As I would walk further into the seminary, there was a sense of horror growing from inside of my mind -- there was a sense of paralyzing horror crawling into my mind as I was asleep on the cot in the nurse’s office at the community college, nightmares induced by the sickness and the chills that were burning my legs as well as my chest.
    The nurse had felt my skin -- which had been cool to the touch from the winter air, and she had seen in my eyes were a horror that would not be able to be described. But as I had still been in a dead sleep, and my head was burning up with a fever; my subconscious mind were still walking around inside of the Marynoll -- walking with the thing that would be the one who called himself Darkness. The black shape was looking back at me as my sleeping body was covered to my chin with a pair of blankets -- the nurse in the room could not see it looking back at me, it was without a shape and I had once seen it in past nightmares.
   The thoughts of seeing this shapeless being would invoke the horror of the nightmares of the dead. The black shape had eyes that looked something of the Shades of Hades. I had felt his cold touch on my covered stomach as I would remain asleep -- in the dream which I had walked, I had seen the friend that had been buried back in 1989. In the eyes of the female Christian, the one that was one of my friends would say that I should not be thinking about such things as nightmares. This had been strong in my mind as I was walking around the musky hallways and the damp smelling stairways of the seminary Marynoll. That as I would walk the hallways of this nightmarish horror, I could not describe the horrors that were inside of my fucking head. The things that would be said by the female Christian, "With God, anything can be possible, and the fear that would be inside is non-existent. God did not create the spirit of fear, but the spirit of love." Though as this was said, I could feel the spirits of the ones that had gone onto the passing. That as I would be inside of this place, one would see that the ones that had died would be standing there -- saying why one had wished them to die.
   In that room, even within one’s sleep, he can see the shapeless spirit looking back at him -- seeing that it will not change the past, or the nightmares that will be. That it will escort me to the other side while I walked with him inside of the Marynoll College. The thoughts that the spirit will see are the ones that are on the other side, the ones that invoke the nightmares that are with the living. In the madness that would drive one into a sanitarium, the nightmares are turning the darkness that would haunt inside the chapel as the pastor would recite his sermon.
    As he would say that he would rebuke the spirits of illness, he began to vomit blood all over the altar -- blood that would have a slight black color to the crimson red. The vomit had an odor of death crawling up from the darkest shadows of his nightmares -- as the blood began to take on a decaying smell, a being began to surface from the crimson fluids. The black, hellish figure began to take its form -- its form that I had seen inside of the chapel of the Marynoll. That as one would sit inside of the Baptist church, the odor of slow decay began to grow as the pastor started to become a skeleton in a matter of minutes. Muscular tissue began to get eaten away from the inside, he was still alive when the shapeless figure had disemboweled him in the middle of the service and pages of the Holy Bible had been slowly ripped out from the book of Genesis to the book of the Revelation. The torn pages had been formed into a five-pointed star -- like the pattern inside of the chapel of the Marynoll with the mattresses and the table in middle of the chapel.
   It had taken the cross in back and flipped it upside down -- it was something that was reminiscent to a scene out of "Hellraiser," and the being had taken the bowels of the pastor and placed them on the altar. The patrons of the church began to run to the exit of the church, but they could not get out because the door had been locked from the outside -- it was similar to a roach motel, they could check in but they could never check out. The horror that would invoke the sleeping evil would forever torment them the rest of their days, one by one they had became a human sacrifice. The front people that tried to get out had been trampled to death by the others trying to rush out of the church. The being had taken the intestines of the trampled, and wrapped them around the necks of the patrons closer to the altar -- their eyes were still open as they were pulled to the ceiling with the grotesque noose of human intestines. While this was happening, I felt a sharp object running across my exposed wrists -- a burning pain was coming of me as the crimson liquid flowed from the gaping wound.
    The nurse quickly responded to the flowing crimson by dressing the wound, she had tried to wake me -- with no result. My subconscious was still in the Marynoll along with the spirit of the pastor that was disemboweled -- he had hooks impaled from all parts of his body, from the hooks were chains dangling from eight corners of the chapel of the Marynoll Seminary. His spirit was bleeding like his earthly corpse that was vomiting blackish crimson and later disemboweled like the five that were in Burksville, Maryland, where they found five men tied together at their feet -- then cut from their stomachs and were disemboweled. The spirits of the ten patrons that had been killed had been tied together in the same fashion, naked, and their stomachs had also been cut open. I had been forced to watch their molested spirits become brutalized.
   While the nurse had dressed my wounds, the spirit had returned to the office and threw her into the wall -- it had tried to do some bodily harm to her but it had vanished because she had a pagan symbol of light around her neck. She had come to grips and walked to her desk where there was another Egyptian icon on her desk and ran it into my weakened body -- it was the symbol of the all "Seeing Eye" connected to a leather cord.
   Apparently, her activities outside of work at the college were connected to Egyptian witchcraft because I remembered seeing a picture of her wrapped in a blanket with a necklace of a scarab around her neck -- she was trying to go into a coma like sleep to reach the spirits of the land of the dead. I had felt something go around my neck, and it was that necklace of the all "Seeing Eye" then she placed a Wiccan pentagram into my right hand after she had taken the blood from my wound and soaked the charm into it. I then heard her whisper something about the being that is the pagan equivalent to the Angel of Death, and the reason that it came after me is because I reminded him of the one that had sealed him up in its prison -- she was pulled into the dream somehow, it might of been when the being slammed her into the cabinet. That amount of force that she received would of killed her, but it was her practice of Egyptian witchcraft that had saved her.
   She had just enough strength to place the all "Seeing Eye" around my neck -- I was still lying flat upon my back and was wrapped from my feet to my arms in the blanket. My right arm was free for her to take my vitals. She then crawled onto the other cot and covered herself with the other blanket -- somehow I must have pulled her into the dream. "What is your name, and who are you?" I found myself asking. "My grandmother had moved to Chicago from New England -- her family settled in Blair, Maryland, after the Salem Witch Trials, after hearing about the Curse of the Blair Witch, she had moved to Bloomingdale, Illinois and she had raised us there ever since -- this being that is tormenting you is an Egyptian demon that your ancestors from Rome entombed in Italy during the 1700s, and when they moved the thing to the Theosophical Society they dropped the prison and it accidentally broke -- releasing the evil. When the stars in the sky show the symbol of the thorn, the being will then appear. It was from both Celtic and Egyptian Mythology, it is like the Cthulhu of Sumaria, but it is more violent. My name is Cathrina Rosenfeild, and I had studied Egyptian, Roman, and Celtic Mythology in the Theosophical Society while I was training to be a nurse in Loyola University. It needed a place to call home and the Marynoll became just that because of the witch cults that would practice their dark rituals."
   "Albert Rosinella -- your family came from a long line of ghost hunters and vampire slayers, and this is a form of a vampire but without a solid body like the European vampires. The shapeless ones feed on blood like their cousins, but they will not make more of their kind -- they just want to make humans extinct. The only way that these vampires can feed is to bring their victims out of their bodies into their nightmares and when they are totally drained, they will die for real -- they pulled you in because they were trying to keep me occupied so they can kill their other prey. They work like a spider -- they cannot kill them from the outside like a spider with a fly. The only reason that he was able to do so with the pastor is because he had no knowledge of the demonic powers that would torment pagans as the Devil would tempt the Christians." She had stated.
   "Cathrina, is that what this thing is? Holy shit, that is something that I did not know of my family -- vampire slayers and ghost hunters. That is something that my parents never told me of while I was a child -- I am the one that is paying for what my family had done in Egypt in the 17th century. This is getting frightening -- and especially with the energy of the witch cults in Glen Ellyn, their energy had made it strong enough to kill an entire church congregation," I had said while looking at the charm that was hanging around the hood of my sweatshirt. This thing is the equal to the God of the dead in the times of ancient Rome and Greece? Shit this is getting frightening -- no wonder why the pastor had no power to fight the thing," I had answered. "We have to make our move and quickly."
   When I had tried to attack the being, he had taken the body of the pastor that was disfigured and disemboweled -- the skin that was pulled from the pastor was what gave the shadow a shape. I had thrown the symbol of light around the being and it had vanished with a trace -- all that was left was the spiritual corpses of the church congregation, tied at their feet -- naked and disemboweled.