a psychic revenge

Hello, my name is Roland. Roland Nomanowski. I am a person who is psychic... I must speak to you, the person reading this document, before continuing. You must know that any further reading will gently lock you into my influence. A psychic bond will form from which I am unable to release you. I advise you to look away for a moment so that you can make an independent decision. If you decide to stop reading, I am not offended, but if you stay, you are welcome to join me.  

   Our plane has landed and is moving toward the terminal. Obeying the lighted sign, I have unhooked the old fashioned seat belt. Go ahead and think of unhooking your own. People ahead of us are getting their carry-ons down, and moving toward the door. I'll smile for us at the Stewardess, as she can't see you. You are locked in my mind, seeing through my eyes. I'll shut up for now, as you can see we are down the ramp, and over to the car rental area. I'll need a plain jane car, economy. We are in this town to find an evil person. I believe he is a David something, his hair is thinning, and he walks kind of hunched over, belying the fact that he has extraordinary strength. We will have to take care after finding him.  Please, keep your eyes open in all directions when I think we are near.  Some of these terminals tend to confuse me, but ah, I see the sign to take us downtown.  That is usually a good place for us to open our mind and seek the very tiny radio signals that emanate from David. So far, I feel a cavalcade of signals, but not his. This looks like the main thoroughfare, choked with traffic, three lanes. We're going under a railroad trestle and back up. There is a small park ahead to the left. Let's stop over there and see if any wave flows in. Okay, left turn signal went green and down a block to the park's parking area. Lots of open spaces. We'll take this one. Let's get out and walk to the middle open area. Kind of pleasant isn't it? Looks like those trees along the fence area have been growing for years. I like the hilly texture of this open area, the patches of flowers...wait. I felt David's for a short moment. He seems to be moving, inside a building... no, gone. David, David, where are your waves. Pardon me as I turn slowly and nod . Yes, I see that lady on the bench watching me with a frown. She wonders what I'm looking at. Distracts me. Oh, wait, here's David again. I took a slight step to the right and have a good signal. He's working, loading cartons onto a long conveyor belt. Darn, his name tag only says David...wait, no, David P. Let's get back in the car and head southwest. It feels like a big building. On the way, I'll tell you about David.

   David is a burglar. Actually, he's a mean burglar who sneaks into homes at night. A lady, let's see, Florence Russell was in the bathroom and heard the floor creak. This was two years ago, near a town where I've lived for a while. She opens the door and flips on the light from upstairs, and yells, "Who's there? Who's there?" She walks down her stairs she sees movement behind her piano. He's crouching down waiting. "I see you there. You'd better get out of my house right now!" She yells in a high pitched trembling voice. He pulls his hat down to his eyebrows and puts his chin under his black t-shirt. He lets out a ferocious yell and lunges for the tiny lady. Florence bursts into terrified tears. A neighbor, awakened by the yelling, calls the police. They find Florence, lying on the floor, bleeding from her nose, all over the carpet, her cheeks swollen and bruised. David was gone.  

   I have a client, Josephine Gonzales, who I noticed was distraught when she came for our appointment. It was her sister's mother in law who was hurt. I asked her, "How is Florence?" She gave me a surprised look. "You know Mrs. Russell?" I said, "no, but you are thinking about her. Has she recovered?" She told me that she was out of the hospital, but not well. She was terrified. She is staying with her son, but doesn't sleep. During the day, she just sits on their couch, looking out their backyard window. Her cheerful laughter was gone. I could not help feeling intense anger at this terrible thing that happened. Her years as a happy retired lady were ruined by this cruel burglar. I decided to find him. Josephine asked for the house key and entrusted it to me, so I went into the dark house. Traces of Florence's blood could be still seen at the foot of the stairs. The police investigation was over, the yellow tape gone. I needed no physical evidence. I just needed to crouch behind the piano and relax my mind. I sat kneeling for more than ten minutes, and could feel the information start to flow into my awareness. I could see his image, as though I was looking through his eyes, even feeling his mean, anger at the lady in the white nightgown yelling "I see you there..." I ran as he ran a week before and saw his big fist hit that lady, it was awful. You'll notice even now my grasping my own hands, horrified at the memory. I ran with him to his old Toyota, and even went into his filthy apartment as the energy from his week-old presence was fading.  

  So, for well over a year, almost two, I have been trying to detect the radio like waves of this David. I'm pleased that you decided to take a chance on this dangerous mission. I had encouraged the local police to visit his apartment but by now, he was long gone. I enquired of any DNA evidence, but the Chief of police there just gave me an odd look. "No, we don't share evidence..." So, I have traveled to every town throughout this state, hoping for a vague signal. I recently was in a major town near to this one. It is just over an hour's drive away when I thought I felt a lone signal, so close to David's. Then it was gone. Now we are in his town. That signal is now quite strong. Oh, dear, now a little lighter. We'll make a right turn here. Ah, good, it's back. It's getting stronger. That building, over to the right, large, filled with glass windows. Trucks moving in an out there, delivery. I think he's in there. Shall we go in? You're not afraid are you?  See that open warehouse door? Let's see if we can get in without a hassle. Oh, look, shop coats just hanging here. There's one my size, and a clipboard! Good, we'll look like an employee. Wow, a lot of stuff in here. That's a high ceiling, four steel chambers high. Someone coming our way. "hi...you the new guy? I need you over to C down from where Daryl's working.." Good, we're in okay. "Don't get lost...see Harold down there in the yellow cap, he'll point the way..." All right, now, friend. Let me find his waves. He's here for sure. I think he's over to the left, toward that corner.  Signals a little stronger. He may be coming our way. Look, I think that's him, just ahead, he's looking at us, frowning. Wow, big old bugger. He's got a black cap on, but that looks like the face I have been seeing.  

   "Hey, stop a minute. Are you David?" He's glaring at us, his mouth drops open. "No-no, no he stutters. Clarence... who the hell are you?" He looks menacing. There's a vein throbbing in his neck. He looks to his left, then to his right. There's no one in this corridor. Keeping us in his gaze he takes steps over to one side and a club appears in his hand. "You a cop?" I stare back, and tell him, "No, no cop. I'm a friend of a little lady a few towns from here. A lady with a bruised and bloody face, who ran into you in her house, David. I'm here for revenge." This moose of a man lunges at me and swings his club. My very fast arm grabs it in mid air, and I give it a twist, throwing him into the metal railings of the steel shelves. He struggles to his feet and runs toward me, kind of hunched over in a tackling attack. I kick him in the middle of his chest. He groans and collapses. I grab his ears and slam his face into the concrete floor. "That's for Florence..." I hear a voice. "What's going on down there?" The floor manager is running our way. I swing 'David' over my shoulder to run to the car, in case you couldn't tell what was happening. There, I've tossed him in back seat. He'll be out cold for a while....Now we'll need to find the local cop station to drop him off and get in touch with the lab results at Florence Russell's hometown.

  I thought you might be worried about the rough stuff. I guess you expected all psychics to be gentle souls. That makes me chuckle, yes, when I was younger, I was a US Marine, two tours. So, thanks for joining me on this pursuit. Soon as I say, 'the end', your attachment here ends. So, the end.