Under a Watchful Eye(56)

How the random acts of disassociating his consciousness had progressed to Ewan’s evident ability to enter the state at will, to control it and to appear as an apparition, was the missing link. Had Ewan found a mentor, or even a substance, that allowed him to take his inconsistent ability to the next level? This SPR and its inducements offered the only clue.

What was legible in what he took to be the later, more inconsistent periods culminated in what Seb hoped were the psychotic fantasies of an addict. And only within these did Seb discover anything relating to what might have entered his home during the last night of Ewan’s intrusion – the very form that had brought death to Ewan in Paignton.

Written in black ink, inside the Hello Kitty jotting pad, were sections that Ewan had entitled: The Greylands.

It was like a blackout. Different. Everything went dark. A loss of consciousness? Complete darkness. Was this the time of darkness that they had told me about? But this was more like a void. More than darkness. It was nothingness.

Consciousness returned. I moved out of the void and was rushing through the cold, in a wind. But I came to be inside the house again.

Partial awakening with only dream-like awareness inside. I was half in the world, but it was very dim and not properly formed, even formless in places. Something always unreal and misty about these rooms. I was only half aware, but the edges of doorways and furniture were vague. Objects doubled, or one thing went over another, like two images in fog. Some of the images belonged to me and I saw things that I owned as a child. So was I projecting that? Never experienced that before. Not what I expected.

But I was definitely still in the building and able to move about more freely.





Another fragment in the Hello Kitty pad suggested a location with a physical basis. It reminded Seb of the SPR reports about the tests set by the mysterious ‘H’ and ‘Diane’. Other participants were mentioned but only referred to as ‘they’.

Found the place. The corridor of black doors. Awake but dreaming in the mist. Couldn’t stop the fear. Was like being a child again. Suspected I was close to something dangerous [text illegible].

Must still be inside the soul-body veil, but never seen this sphere so clearly before. Found the correct room, third on right, and passed inside. Stayed clear from the black windows and slowly seemed to descend to the floor like I was growing smaller and dimmer.

Saw the painting in there. Boy sat on chair with light-coloured hair, holding a bear. Under painting was the same chair with the same bear on it. Actual toy was older, worn to cloth in some places.

There was a row of toys lined up on an old sofa. Before I could look at them I was hit in the face by something soft. A nightgown. Child’s nightgown. Very old and white. It had seemed to hover or float in the corner of my eye, and then it came across the room fast and covered my face. Terrifying!

Fell back into void and woke in the bedroom.

They were very pleased with me the next day for identifying some of the contents of that room. HE was there, they said. Apparently, HE was with me the whole time. ‘HE helps those who come inside his house.’ They keep repeating that.

I mentioned the nightgown and they said it was nothing to worry about. A sign of acceptance, a little trick. ‘HE likes those’, they said.





Reports of Ewan’s assessment continued on the several pages that had come loose from the Kitty pad. Seb had found them at the bottom of one of the bin bags.

Fifth time in corridor with the black doors, but fear is still the same and I was not fully conscious again. Something is holding me back. I’m half asleep and sluggish and a bit [text illegible] confused. But I found the room with the playing cards on a card table.

Read the cards. Found the bookshelves and the little table with the three ornaments – glazed cockerel, two white ceramic bowls with lids, blue flower print. Saw drinks trolley and counted the bottles.

Have never stayed outside my body for so long.

[Text illegible]

Aware of a presence in the sitting room. Not pleasant experience. Started to think of a hat, or dream of a man in a hat, wearing dark glasses and leather gloves who was staring at me. Suit and tie. Pale face.

Then the man was inside the large mirror over the fireplace, but not visible inside the room with me, but I could feel him inside the space.

Heard words inside my head. ‘When the door opens, go through it. Cast thyself down.’ But I couldn’t see beyond the doorframe in the corner of the sitting room. He must have meant that one. There wasn’t another door. Does that door lead to another corridor up there? House is confusing and always so dark. Door was already open, but leading where? I could see it behind the piano with all of the framed photographs arranged on top, but could see nothing through the door that he wanted me to go through. Made me anxious.

[Text illegible]

Had that been HIM inside the sitting room? I asked them in the afternoon when we were eating (food is terrible here). They smiled and said it wasn’t for them to say.





On the day that he’d deciphered one particular cluster of notes, a fragment had frightened Seb enough to stop him working. He’d left the house and spent an evening at a restaurant, followed by the noisiest pub that he could find in the harbour, before dragging his feet back to the house close to midnight.

Bedroom. Big bed with quilted covers. Metal bed frame. Could have been inside a museum. Walked through the room and into an adjoining dressing room. It was filled with women’s clothes in alcoves and on stands, like artist’s busts – fur coats, dresses, lots of shoes, hat boxes. A table with cosmetics and bottles. All very old. From the war, 1940s, and the 1950s, I guessed. Don’t understand why it’s there. Whole floor of the house seems preserved, but from before HIS time. But this was where HE lived, in this sphere. They said that this is where HE was.