Into The Void

One student's out-of-this-world experience with Remote Viewing.
by "Mr. V"

   DAY 7 - MORNING

   “How’d you sleep?” Not a strange question from Joni, even if I don’t know her so well. Strange nonetheless.

   “Woke up. Guess it was around 4. Really wild. Felt like my skin was on fire. But it wasn’t burning, or hot or anything. Just sort of felt like it was burning. Sort of... rippling. Everywhere. Like I was covered in two inches of flame. But cool flame. For a few moments, it felt like I couldn’t move. Sorta weird, like. Sure it was nothing. Some sort of strange dream...”

   Joni looks at me, those eyes piercing. “Did you see anything?”

   “What’s to see?”

   “Oh. I don’t know.” She keeps looking at me, examining. “Around 4, you say?” I nod. “I woke up around 4,” she says.

   DAY 6 - EVENING

	I can’t breathe. All the data corroborates. Joni breaks into my stunned silence. “Something happened to you. You weren’t ‘just dreaming’.” I don’t know what to say. And I won’t for several weeks to come.

   It was the sixth day of my TRV training. I’d been struggling to make sense of it all. How could a bunch of random words and a sketch or three prove that I was on target? Those words could have meant a hundred things. The symbolism in that sketch could have been about me and my girlfriend, not about Arthur C. Clarke and his dog. I thought I was mind-probing a current love triangle but it ended up being the two Presidental Bushes next to Bill Clinton. I thought I was in outer space but I was TRVing Brad Pitt. I was certainly still hoping, and really hoping, that it starts to work soon. Some useful information, please.

   I felt as though I was fighting to stay objective. Grounded. But somehow, that point of view might have been what was preventing this mental “science” to work for me. I drew a comparison to believing in God. If you don’t have faith, then the healing can’t happen. Even Jesus, it is told, said that “As your faith, so shall it be.” So perhaps, if it was going to work, I was going to have to take a real leap of “faith.” To give it a chance. That is what I enrolled for, after all: to wear the coat. To see if it fits.

   As I went to bed, I wondered what was to befall me. I could never have known then what I know now: things were about to get a tad... interesting.

   DAY 7 - LUNCH BREAK

   “What did you get,” I ask Alana.

   “Hmm?”

   “Your target. What is it?”

   “Same as yours.”

   “Yeah, I know. But...” I realize she doesn’t want to say, or isn’t feeling well. “I think it’s Area 51. Or something like that. It feels really... weird. Like aliens. Maybe a plane crash. I got a surgery, trying to heal. A bunch of people around. A boy crying to his mother. Secrets, etc. You?”

   “I could see that. I got an alien autopsy. Something like that. Definitely a surgery. Cold emotions. Healing. Family present, could be the mother. Others nearby, observing.”

   A pause filled in between us. “Let’s go eat,” I said.

   DAY 7 - AFTERNOON SESSION

   Joni looks just a touch unsettled. “I’m going to remote view this target too,” she declares.

   “But you know what it is.”

   “I know what the cue is, but I don’t know what the resulting data is. I’m going to do it. It seems like your data is... sort of strange.”

   The session begins. She guides us through advanced stages. Stage five, six, then seven. Cool stuff. I hold together. A real image starts to take shape. The data keeps coming. Multi-dimensional entities. Differing sorts of lifeforms. Observation through a window. A life-force is at issue. A patient lies still, unable to comprehend the types of activity going on around him, and unto him. It could be a military procedure being done to some type of other life form. The “patient” does not understand how the procedure can be of benefit. Yet there is a purpose behind the activity. The job has not been completed.

   The day nears its end.

   Joni has a grave look on her face. Something ominous is taking place here. She asks, “What do you conclude it might be?”

   “A cattle in a slaughterhouse, about to be made into hamburger. It looks up at the humans in charge. There’s no idea why humans do this. Nor any idea how they could do it.”

   “The target is...” She lies the folder down for me to read, and the words written upon it claw into my mind with unyielding force: The reality of/[Mr. V]/Anomalous Event/Circa 4:00 a.m., this morning.

   I can’t breathe.

   All the data corroborates.

   Joni breaks into my stunned silence. “Something happened to you. You weren’t ‘just dreaming’.”

   I don’t know what to say. And I won’t for several weeks to come.

   Epilogue

   How does one make sense of it all? In a breath, I find out that not only does Remote Viewing actually provide consistent data from different sources, but with it I can draw details of events and experiences that instinctively felt true to me. My personal experiences. Add to that, the data revealed some sort of ET or angelic experience. An intervention of some strange sort. Who are these things? What are they? From where? How? Why me? Can it be real? Did I have a psychotic episode?

   It’s been weeks now and I have most of the answers. I achieved clarity and control again. My feet are once again on the ground. I no longer fear some strange light falling from the sky or whatever else was about to befall me. And the Remote Viewing is working better than ever. I’m at it daily. And although there remain a few minor mysteries about what really happened that night, one thing is for sure... the coat fits. I’m wearing it right now.

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