The Tor : A Chilling Sight by Liz O'Neill |
Previously: On the way to Glastonbury, the group is discussing the labyrinth on the Tor. This leads to discussions about the ley lines, with which Cyndy and Karin are familiar, but had never personally experienced. ***** “Oof, my head is feeling funny. Oh, my goodness, the pressure is almost unbearable. I’m getting a severe headache. Madeline, would you dowse to see if I have entities?” I explained to Cyndy and Karin that entities are spirit beings, not of deceased humans or animals, but something else altogether. Something we don’t understand, but we do know when our soul is being interfered with. They cause confusion and lack of focus, tampering with our physical, emotional, psychological, mental, or spiritual levels. “Right now, Cordelia believes herself to have been affected physically. I will dowse to see if she does have entities and if she does, I will clear those entities and negative energies, which means I will neutralize or remove them.” “Oh, no, I wonder if I have those things too. My head feels like it’s in a vice.” “Cyndy, neither you nor Cordelia have entities. I wonder…” Looking up through the windshield or ‘windscreen’ as it is called in England, I fixed my eyes on one of the causes for our massive discomfort. Karin followed my eyes. “What is that?” With everyone staring upward, it menacingly reared its ugly head over the entire landscape. To create more drama in our car, large raindrops were splatting our view, distorting its shape. Windshield wipers repeated a word or phrase or story in the gray gloom. “That, my ladies, is the famous Glastonbury Tor, around five hundred-plus feet high. As it overshadows all thoughts we may have, it warns us we are nearing the village of Glastonbury. Karin spoke up. “Now, I have a crampy gut. What is going on?” Just as I was about to smugly announce I hadn’t been affected by either the Michael ley line or the the vision of the Glastonbury Tor, I felt like I’d been clubbed in the back of my head and that it was being held down. We discussed, how we were pretty sure we’d left the Mary line and were now drudging through the Michael line. I had been thinking about why this was happening and decided to throw it out to the group. “I’m wondering if this is like the movie ‘Close Encounters’ where people, who were somehow connected, were pulled to the same location to experience the energies summoning them there.” All eyes were glued to the impending figure, as they intently considered my words. “This is a stretch, but maybe, we were in a past life together and that’s why we are here, maybe even why we are in this car together.” We didn’t understand why we perceived it through a dark emotional lense. But we would get our answer. I shared some of my previous research.“The books said ‘The Tor’ was dedicated to St. Michael, the Archangel, a warrior against powers of darkness.” Wow, the Michael line equals darkness. We were unaware how much we were going to need St. Michael on or at our side. I didn’t know if the term ‘torus’ was related to what we were experiencing, but there seemed to be a close connection. A torus flows in infinite directions, both up, down, and all around, simultaneously. The whole area of the torus is an electromagnetic field. The Glastonbury Tor, a giant hill, consumed our attention as we drove toward it. We were compelled to question the object jutting from the top central point. This area we were heading toward has been called ‘Land of the Dead’. I declined the opportunity to enlighten the already frazzled companions. It may have been the effects of overexposure or my dowsing, but eventually, those sensations dissipated. That was a good thing, because we could not have endured such harsh energy for very long. We had no idea we’d be plunged into the roils of this energy soon. To change the topic, I decided to explore people’s reaction or awareness to the harp chord demonstration. “I never got to ask people how they were affected by the various harp chords which were played for us as we observed the lady lying on the floor.” Karin immediately chimed in. “Oh yuh, that was so cool wasn’t it? It was helpful so I could have some level of understanding of what Cyndy is learning.” She patted her harpist friend on the arm. “Oh, that's right, Madeline, you and I were going to exchange a summary of our responses, but we never found the time or opportunity.” Cyndy said, “Madeline, since no one is directly answering your question. I found myself having the opposite reaction to Janet, lying on the floor.” “It was weird, when she claimed she felt relaxed, I was depressed. When she was agitated, I felt energized.” “To add to what Cordelia just said, I noticed I was feeling very peaceful when…what’s was her name?” Cyndy helped Karin out with the name as she muttered, “Janet.” Karin continued. “Oh yuh, so, as I was saying, I experienced peace when Janet reported feeling depressed.” I tied it all together with a cheerful note. That’s cool, we all had the same reaction. I did notice many had similar responses to the chords sounded as Janet did. It must be something in the brain. It was Cordelia, our chauffeur’s turn, to pose a question. “Well, we’re nearing the town of Glastonbury. Should we just go straight to the Tor or down into town?” ****** We voted to go for it and head up to the Tor. Then the comments began. It was as if a floodgate had been let open. Cyndy was the first to emote. “Ugh, I’ve got the chills. Does anyone else see the darkness cloaking the individuals in this town? Every one one of them.” “I know, I said, every face, and they are looking right at us, is distorted. There’s something icky about this place.” Cordelia was extremely affected. “What is with this place? Everyone’s body is twisted, and they are moving in slow motion.” Karin’s reaction was no different. “Everyone’s aura is pea green, a sign of great sickness. It’s either physical or spiritual or both or more levels. All I know is it is putrid.” To find something redeeming to say, I pointed out there were many shops about healing. “Oh, I see what you mean,” said Cyndy, pointing them out as we passed them. Cordelia shared her ruminating thoughts. “It’s as if something unforgiving occurred in this town, and it has never quite come back from it. Oh no.” When we looked at the sign on the sawhorse blocking our path, we understood why Cordelia had groaned. Karin read the sign out loud. “‘Go no farther, turn around and catch the shuttle bus in town to return to the Tor’.” I couldn’t help myself. “Whaaat? We have to go back down through that dark distortion of slimy sickness. I’m dowsing each of us a shield of protection.”
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Liz O'Neill
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