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Post by fisher on Nov 11, 2012 10:08:31 GMT -6
As a little girl she was not too different from the other kids growing up in my neighborhood, but that all changed in Pamela’s late teenage years. In time she was known as the ‘Pit Witch’, someone none of us wanted to cross.
Years ago when Interstate 64 was being built, large amounts of dirt had to be dug out of drier areas to build up the highway in more lower and wetter places. Close to our old neighborhood was one of these ‘borrow pits’. It had reached a depth of around 40’ and at that point pumps had to be brought in to pump water out. As I recall, the dirt was mostly a grayish clay and sand mix, but with a lot of old fossil shells and petrified prehistoric whale bone. Back in 1976 they dug too deep near a huge artesian well and almost over night the huge borrow pit was half full of clear cold water which swallowed up earth moving machinery. If memory serves me right, this occurred during summer and we were all happy to have this brand new cold water swimming hole.
It was summer 1976, nearing the big bi-centennial blow-out and it seemed day after day going into weeks everyone I knew engaged in much revelry especially at our new swimming hole. Booze, smoke, LSD25, speed, cocaine, prescription uppers, downers and in betweeners as this was more or less the height of the Rock-n-Roll drug culture, well at least in my old neck of the woods. On one such weekend night a few of us decided to visit ‘the pit’ in hopes of finding an outdoor party.
We found one alright.
In order to reach the pit from our old neighborhood one had to pass through about a quarter mile of dense woods by way of a few different narrow paths. Young people would party either upon one of these paths or at the edge of the pit as well as places cut out of underbrush. Walking down one path and around part of the pit’s edge, we found no one, but heard something coming from another part of those woods.
The sound of voices.
Taking another path, we re-entered the woods and could smell wood smoke. Following that smell we left the path and as quietly as possible advanced. Soon we saw the glow of a fire filtering through the underbrush. Coming to the edge of a clearing in the middle of a huge clump of laurel we beheld a strange scene. Built out of saplings and old plywood stood a shack-like structure and right outside of that shack a group of people were assembled. I guess there were about 7 or 8 there and among them my cousin Charlie and two other good friends all sitting around Pamela. Now I hadn’t seen Pamela for years and how see had grown into a unusually beautiful young woman. She kind of reminded me of a young Cher Bono, long dark hair, mysterious lovely green eyes and well tanned skin that appeared golden in the firelight. She was clad in naught but a short pair of cutoff jeans and a white bikini top sitting upon an old outdoor lounger as it was a throne with the others sitting around like they were her court. Standing there in the shadows watching for a few minutes and although certain we were unseen, she called each of us in by name.
We could of left, but entered her little glade to see exactly what was going on. Finding space upon the ground we sat and as was customary in those days came out with our own party goods which included some top shelf weed and three bottles of whisky. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Pamela, especially after a few good slugs of whisky. ‘What a knock out’ I thought taking in every sensuous golden brown curve, but what was weird it seemed she could read my every thought even making reference to some. My friends who were already there upon our arrival, ‘Wag’, ‘Bear’ and my cousin Charlie along with a couple of others I didn’t know all that well were already pretty smoked up but Pamela only drank. With her bottle of wine almost gone she was quite happy to share our whisky.
In short time I found out that Wag was deeply smitten with Pamela and that they had kind of been going together for about a month or so. A tall lad with pale blond hair, Wag was not only an intelligent young man, but a star high school baseball player as well. Having not seen him for about a month, he seemed different. He appeared a lot more gaunt and pale despite the summer sunshine. Almost kind of sickly and unable to carry on a conversation. He did grimace at me anytime I talked to Pamela.
At one point during that night my friend Whitey who was getting rather bombed made an advance at Pamela but to my amazement he was pushed back into the thick laurel growth by what appeared to be some kind of unseen force. That was enough for him and he promptly split the scene. As bombed as I was getting this did nothing to divert my attention off of Pamela. It didn’t seem like a usual case of sodden lust, more like she was pulling me in.
As it got later one by one people began to split leaving only Bear, Charlie, Wag and myself sitting with Pamela. I remember Wag stumbling off into the brush to relieve himself and that is when Pamela got up off her lounger to whisper in my ear - “Make like you’re leaving, but only go to the pit and wait about a half hour. I’ll get rid of these guys and you can come back” Although being good friends with Wag, I found myself obliging to her request. Having another drink, I excused myself and bid everyone a good night.
Back at the pit’s edge I waited for about a half an hour before returning to the clearing. Almost there, I had to duck into a thicket as a grumbling Wag staggered by me on the path. Once back she invited me into her shack where we were swiftly in each other’s embrace and more.
Afterward almost asleep on a bed that consisted of a mattress and sleeping bags, the make shift door flew open and there stood Wag in the dim light of Pamela’s dying fire just outside. “How could you do this to me ? I love her” He said in a weird voice, a murderous glint played in his eyes. Naked, half asleep and half drunk I was no doubt in for a fight. “Let me get dressed first, Wag” I said, but he responded - “I really love her, man”
It was then she raised up out of bed and said - “Get the f#(k out of here, I’m finished with you. Crawl back home like the worm you are !” Her eyes seemed to glow like pale green fires
To my surprise, Wag, got down on his hands and knees then crawled off into the underbrush. That was all I needed to see before pulling on my duds and lighting off into the woods myself.
About two days later I ran into someone who knew Pamela well. Having inquired what was up with Pamela, the girl told me a strange tale about something being released from the nearby digging and how it made a pact with whom she now called the Pit Witch. The girl also added that Pamela often stood by the pit’s edge talking with something unseen. Which had me thinking about ancient spirits and the like.
I didn’t see Pamela for about a year having gone deep into the hills to live with my brother for awhile. Our next meeting was even more weird..
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Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2012 18:30:43 GMT -6
I have to say that I hope you are just a great story-teller.
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Post by fisher on Nov 11, 2012 18:41:15 GMT -6
I have to say that I hope you are just a great story-teller. You can only hope Returning to my old neighborhood that following June, I visited the pit only to see Pamela swimming with her kid brother and his girlfriend. The Water level had risen almost to the pit's edge. We talked for awhile and she seemed not put off by my sudden departure the year before. Sober this time, I was again drawn to her and we spoke of getting together that night. Everything was seemingly well until a young lady from another neighborhood came down for a swim. A friendly sort, she was quick to make conversation with us until Pamela came out of the water, walked up to the young lady, kneed her in the gut and then ripped the hoop earrings right out of her earlobes. While the young lady was bleeding and puking at the same time, Pamela told her - "Get the hell away from my pit and tell no one what happened, or else !" The young woman tearfully assured her she would not say a word. I noticed Pamela's eyes had turned that weird shade of pale green again. This savage act prompted me to take my leave from her once again, but this was not the last time I would encounter the Pit Witch.
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Post by casper on Nov 11, 2012 18:43:41 GMT -6
She sounds mean. Instead of witch her name should start with a B.
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Post by fisher on Nov 11, 2012 18:52:20 GMT -6
She sounds mean. Instead of witch her name should start with a B. Later I was bewitched by this critter for about 3 months.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2012 18:54:40 GMT -6
. . .listening. . .
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Post by skywalker on Nov 11, 2012 23:11:22 GMT -6
It is an interesting story. Sounds like the type of thing that could turn into an urban legend.
Where is this pit at? You mentioned I-64...would that be Virginia?I wonder if the people living there are still telling stories about this pit witch?
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Post by fisher on Nov 12, 2012 8:30:15 GMT -6
It is an interesting story. Sounds like the type of thing that could turn into an urban legend. Where is this pit at? You mentioned I-64...would that be Virginia?I wonder if the people living there are still telling stories about this pit witch? The pit is still there, now full of water and haflway surrounded by condos. I've not been out there for many of years but have heard some of the woods remain. That following July of 1977, the Pit Witch took up with a friend of mine named Dan. They rented a home near the pit and asked me if I would help by becoming a roommate in this three bedroom house. In my early 20s and staying with parents, I mistakenly thought this to be a good idea at the time. Dan worked a graveyard shift and I worked during the day, but felt uncomfortable when he asked me in private to watch Pamela during the late evening/early morning hours. It was all good for about two weeks, but one weekend night, when Dan was working some overtime, Pamela brought out a bottle of rum and we proceeded to get snockered. At one point she got up and went into a bedroom only to return, dragging a mattress. Placing it upon the living room floor. Pamela came out of her usually scanty attire and there was not a question of intentions. This time I politely refused and that's when her eyes started changing again. I attempted to remind her that Dan was my friend, but she said - "Alright there Mr. Morals, but you won't turn it down again" Then dragged the mattress back into the bedroom. Even though we had a pretty nice pad, Pamela spent a lot of time at that shack in the pit woods often spending the night there. This brought about ill feelings between her and Dan who was beginning to appear as if he was ailing. From time to time I thought of something my brother had brought up that previous summer concerning soul or spirit eaters, but being young and not too mindful of his traditional outlooks, it blew through my mind. Then came the day we threw a party at our pad. Most of the neighborhood people we knew had gone down to Nags Head beach so only Bear and my cousin Charlie showed up. Plenty of booze and good weed, but everything was not so jovial. Pamela and Dan began to bicker about something and at one point went into the bedroom. We could hear shouting, but that didn’t last all that long and shortly after Dan came out to rejoin us. Bear asked him where Pamela was and he returned with - “She’ll get over it” For about an hour the four of us drank, smoked, talked and listened to music then all of a sudden the front door got kicked in. It was her older brother, a known scrapper and probably the toughest hombre in our old neighborhood. Rushing in, he started punching Dan, but suddenly broke off and that is when I saw not only blood coming out of her brother’s chest, but the hunting knife in Dan’s hand. In those days it was not uncommon for us to have a knife sheathed on our belts, we also packed guns sometimes. Evidently Dan had whipped out that Puma brand hunting knife and stabbed Pamela’s brother in the chest a few times, all too swiftly for the eye to follow. Needless to say, Pamela’s brother went to the hospital and Dan was hauled off to jail. Pamela took off to her shack leaving Bear, Charlie and myself there at the house. Soon we would be talking to police investigators. From what we gathered Pamela called her brother claiming to have been hit by Dan in the bedroom. All we could do was tell the truth of how it was Pamela’s brother who kicked the door in and then attacked Dan. Pamela’s brother had a history of assault and was well known to the local police. Dan got a lawyer and beat the charge of attempted murder. He moved out and I would not see him again for another ten years. This left me not only with the house, but with Pamela as well. In time I was bewitched and completely convinced my friend Dan was a woman beater. Her whole demeanor had changed, she was seemingly kind and sweet, but did not seem interested in getting a job to help out with the bills. Young and foolish I really didn’t mind especially having such a beautiful and passionate young lady as a live in girlfriend. I started working a lot of overtime at the plant and thought that was the reason my body felt run downed. I remember one night coming home and not finding Pamela waiting there for me. Walking down the street and into the pit woods I saw she was not at the shack either. Coming to the edge of the woods I heard her voice over by the pit. My eyes adjusting to the dim star light, she looked to be by herself and speaking words that were unintelligible to me. Crouching down in a strand of small gum saplings, I saw something that flipped me slam out. Hovering above the water near where Pamela sat, a dark oval shaped shadowy form. Quite suddenly it dissipated then she called me over. When I asked what was going on, she put it off as if my imagination had been running wild. A few weeks passed and I more or less put that night out of my head especially when she began telling me of a spiritual connection between her and the pit area. Having both a grandmother and a brother who were medicine people, I sort of accepted this. One hot late summer Friday night changed all of that though. It was a slow night at the plant and my machine had broke down. After having already worked over 12 hours I was quite happy to hear my supervisor tell me - “Go ahead and take off, I’ll see you Monday morning” ‘Cool’ I thought, ‘At least some of this Friday night can be enjoyed. Arriving home I had to park out in the street as there was another car in our small driveway. Thinking it was someone we knew I proceeded inside only to find a strange man sitting on the couch, swilling down one of my beers and there were more empty bottles on the coffee table. From our bedroom I heard sounds..
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Post by fisher on Nov 12, 2012 8:46:44 GMT -6
Hope to continue with more of this tale. I think my account was suspended over at the Paranormal Research Society forums for telling the same story.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2012 6:22:40 GMT -6
You don't know why your "account was suspended"? I don't know anything about them . I know that too much detail will bother me, but you are still alive (and well?) after spending time with this young lady. Besides being an intriguing story, can you see a benefit in sharing a story? Not just for people like you, who are "attracted in", but also for "pamela"? She obviously was initially "attracted in". This seems to be a case involving non-religious people (at the time?). Rest assured that similar cases have happened and been documented involving "church" people. Maybe not so much sex involved, but that desire is there. Please re-read the rules of TEOR so you feel comfortable sharing your experiences without concern for being banned . Thanks!
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Post by skywalker on Nov 14, 2012 13:35:38 GMT -6
I don't think fisher is in any danger of being banned. The administrators here are pretty cool peoples.
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Post by fisher on Nov 14, 2012 15:40:02 GMT -6
You don't know why your "account was suspended"? I don't know anything about them . I know that too much detail will bother me, but you are still alive (and well?) after spending time with this young lady. Besides being an intriguing story, can you see a benefit in sharing a story? Not just for people like you, who are "attracted in", but also for "pamela"? She obviously was initially "attracted in". This seems to be a case involving non-religious people (at the time?). Rest assured that similar cases have happened and been documented involving "church" people. Maybe not so much sex involved, but that desire is there. Please re-read the rules of TEOR so you feel comfortable sharing your experiences without concern for being banned . Thanks! Some weird place with a lot of Ryan Buell fan club people. hopefully my account there is suspended, but enough about moonbats and the like. Back to my story..
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Post by fisher on Nov 14, 2012 15:41:23 GMT -6
"How's that beer ?" I asked and the fellow answered - "It's alright, but not my usual brand"
"Well put it down, it's mine" I then proceeded down the hall and into the bedroom where I saw Pamela passionately engaged with yet another fellow. All caught up in the act he didn't notice me at first, but Pamela was looking dead at me. She just laid there until he took notice and swiftly slid off/out and fumbled at putting his duds back on.
Casting a glance at Pamela he inquired about who I was, but before she had a chance to reply I informed him - "This is my house and you and your buddy can get the f#(K out now" At this Pamela feigned some sobbing.
Showing these fellows to the door with a clear warning, I went to the fridge and got one of my few remaining beers then plopped down in my recliner. I felt good, new life seemed to be pumping through my veins and there was no desire on my part to even speak to Pamela. About 10 minutes passed and she started calling me back, but I just sat there drinking my beer. a few minutes later she came into the living room with a bathrobe on still sobbing and steadily blathering apologies.
"I'm sorry, they got me drunk and took advantage of me" Was one I remember.
"They came in here and got you drunk with my beer ?" At that her eyes flashed that weird pale green and I got up to retrieve a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. Taking a big slug, I promptly told her to get out as well and at that she requested about an hour to get her few belongings together and leave. Giving her a bit of privacy, I hopped in my car and went to the local bar.
Returning about 2 hours later I discovered that Pamela had not only left, but broke a lot of my belongings and wrote upon the bedroom wall in red magic marker - "You'll get yours you f#(king *bleep*"
The broken stuff seemed well worth having this critter out of my life, but soon afterwards I began to ail...
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Post by auntym on Nov 14, 2012 22:30:11 GMT -6
as interesting as this story is, i don't see anything paranormal in it...
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Post by fisher on Nov 15, 2012 3:07:26 GMT -6
as interesting as this story is, i don't see anything paranormal in it... You didn't see the part about the witch speaking to the dark entity, or using supernatural power to push a person across the glade ? But you did see the remark about heart throb, ghost hunting idol, Ryan Buell. Well the story isn't over yet.
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Post by auntym on Nov 15, 2012 13:08:52 GMT -6
as interesting as this story is, i don't see anything paranormal in it... You didn't see the part about the witch speaking to the dark entity, or using supernatural power to push a person across the glade ? But you did see the remark about heart throb, ghost hunting idol, Ryan Buell. Well the story isn't over yet.
can't wait to hear the rest...
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