jak.themothmanprophecies-第1节

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　　1。
　　
　　Fingers　of　lightning　tore　holes　in　the　black　skies　as　an　angry　cloudburst　drenched　the　surrealistic　landscape。　It　was　3　A。M。　on　a　cold；　wet　morning　in　late　November　1967。　and　the　little　houses　scattered　along　the　dirt　road　winding　through　the　hills　of　West　Virginia　were　all　dark。　Some　seemed　unoccupied　and　in　the　final　stages　of　decay。　Others　were　unpainted；　neglected；　forlorn。　The　whole　setting　was　like　the　opening　scene　of　a　Grade　B　horror　film　from　the　1930s。
　　
　　Along　the　road　there　came　a　stranger　in　a　land　where　strangers　were　rare　and　suspect。　He　walked　up　to　the　door　of　a　crumbling　farmhouse　and　hammered。　After　a　long　moment　a　light　blinked　on　somewhere　in　the　house　and　a　young　woman　appeared；　drawing　a　cheap　mail…order　bathrobe　tightly　about　her。　She　opened　the　door　a　crack　and　her　sleep…swollen　face　winced　with　fear　as　she　stared　at　the　apparition　on　her　doorstep。　He　was　over　six　feet　tall　and　dressed　entirely　in　black。　He　wore　a　black　suit；　black　tie；　black　hat；　and　black　overcoat；　with　impractical　black　dress　shoes　covered　with　mud。　His　face；　barely　visible　in　the　darkness；　sported　a　neatly　trimmed　mustache　and　goatee。　The　flashes　of　lightning　behind　him　added　an　eerie　effect。
　　
　　〃May　I　use　your　phone？〃　He　asked　in　a　deep　baritone；　his　voice　lacking　the　familiar　West　Virginia　accent。　The　girl　gulped　silently　and　backed　away。
　　
　　〃My　husband　。。。〃　She　mumbled。　〃Talk　to　my　husband。〃
　　
　　She　closed　the　door　quickly　and　backed　away　into　the　darkness。　Minutes　passed。　Then　she　returned　acpanied　by　a　rugged　young　man　hastily　buckling　his　trousers　in　place。　He；　too；　turned　pale　at　the　sight　of　the　stranger。
　　
　　〃We　ain't　got　a　phone　here；〃　he　grunted　through　the　crack　in　the　door　just　before　he　slammed　it。　The　couple　retreated　murmuring　to　themselves　and　the　tall　stranger　faded　into　the　night。
　　
　　Beards　were　a　very　rare　sight　in　West　Virginia　in　1967。　Men　in　formal　suits　and　ties　were　even　rarer　in　those　back　hills　of　the　Ohio　valley。　And　bearded；　black…garbed　strangers　on　foot　in　the　rain　had　never　been　seen　there　before。
　　
　　In　the　days　that　followed　the　young　couple　told　their　friends　about　the　apparition。　Obviously；　they　concluded；　he　had　been　a　fearful　omen　of　some　sort。　Perhaps　he　had　been　the　devil　himself！
　　
　　Three　weeks　later　these　two　people　were　dead；　among　the　victims　of　the　worst　tragedy　ever　to　strike　that　section　of　West　Virginia。　They　were　driving　across　the　Silver　Bridge。　which　spanned　the　Ohio　River；　when　it　suddenly　collapsed。
　　
　　Their　friends　remembered。　They　remembered　the　story　of　the　bearded　stranger　in　the　night。　It　had；　indeed；　been　a　sinister　omen。　One　that　confirmed　their　religious　beliefs　and　superstitions。　So　a　new　legend　was　born。　Beelzebub　had　visited　West　Virginia　on　the　eve　of　a　terrible　tragedy。
　　
　　II。　
　　
　　Being　a　dedicated　nonconformist　is　not　easy　these　days。　I　grew　my　beard　in　1966　while　loafing　for　a　week　op　the　farm　of　my　friend；　zoologist　Ivan　T。　Sanderson。　I　kept　it　until　1968　when　hair　became　popular　and　half　the　young　men　hi　America　suddenly　began　burying　their　identities　in　a　great　sea　of　facial　hair。　In　those　more　innocent　days　only　artists；　writers；　and　college　professors　could　get　away　with　beards。　People　even　seemed　to　expect　it　of　us。　Perhaps　if　crew　cuts　ever　e　back　and　beards　disappear　I　will　regrow　my　own。　But　today　it　would　be　sprinkled　with　gray。　Too　much　gray；　probably。　Likewise；　long　hair　was　once　the　symbol　of　the　super…intellectual；　the　property　of　concert　violinists　and　Einstein…type　mathematicians…the　ultimate　squares；　really。
　　
　　I　would　prefer　to　believe　that　I　did　not　look　like　the　devil　in　my　late　beard。　I　certainly　had　no　intention　of　launching　new　legends　when　my　car　ran　off　the　road　in　West　Virginia　that　November　and　I　plodded　from　house　to　house　searching　for　a　telephone　so　I　could　call　a　tow　truck。　I　had　just　e　up　from　Atlanta；　Georgia；　where　I　had　delivered　a　speech　to　a　local　UFO　club。　West　Virginia　was　almost　a　second　home　to　me　in　those　days。　I　had　visited　the　state　five　times；　investigating　a　long　series　of　very　strange　events；　and　had　many　friends　there。　One　of　them；　Mrs。　Mary　Hyre；　the　star　reporter　of　the　Athens；　Ohio；　Messenger；　was　with　me　that　night。　We　had　been　out　talking　to　UFO　witnesses；　and　earlier　that　evening　we　ourselves　had　watched；　a　very　strange　light　in　the　sky。　Since　there　was　a　heavy；　low　cloud　layer　it　could　not　have　been　a　star。　It　maneuvered　over　the　hills；　its　brilliant　glow　very　familiar　to　both　of　us　for　we　both　had　seen　many　such　lights　in　the　Ohio　valley　that　year。
　　
　　Mrs。　Hyre　waited　in　the　car　while　I　trudged　through　the　mud　and　ram。　We　had　been　trying　to　climb　a　slippery　hill　to　a　spot　where　we　had　seen　many　unusual　things　in　the　past。　I　found　that　the　telephones　in　the　houses　closest　to　our　location　were　not　working；　apparently　knocked　out　by　the　storm。　So　I　had　to　keep　walking　until　I　finally　found　a　house　with　a　working　phone。　The　owner　refused　to　open　his　door　so　we　shouted　back　and　forth。　I　gave　him　a　phone　number　to　call。　He　obliged　and　went　back　to　bed。　I　never　knew　what　he　looked　like。
　　
　　My　point；　of　course　is　that　Beelzebub　was　not　wandering　along　the　back　roads　of　West　Virginia　that　night。　It　was　just　a　very　tired　John　Keel　busy　catching　a　whale　of　a　cold。　But　from　the　view　of　the　people　who　lived　on　that　road；　something　very　unusual　had　happened。　They　had　never　before　been　roused　in　the　middle　of　the　night　by　a　tall　bearded　stranger　in　black。　They　knew　nothing　about　me　or　the　reasons　for　my　presence　so　they　were　forced　to　speculate。　Even　speculation　was　difficult。　They　could　only　place　me　in　the　frame　of　reference　they　knew　best…the　religious。　Bearded　men　in　city　dress　simply　did　not　turn　up　on　isolated　back　roads　in　the　middle　of　the　night。　In　fact；　they　didn't　even　turn　up　on　the　main　streets　of　Ohio　valley　towns　in　broad　daylight！　So　a　perfectly　normal　event　（normal；　that　is；　to　me）　was　placed　in　an　entirely　different　context　by　the　witnesses。　The　final　proof　of　my　supernatural　origin　came　three　weeks　later　when　two　of　the　people　I　had　awakened　were　killed　in　the　bridge　tragedy。　Some　future　investigator　of　the　paranormal　may　wander　into　those　hills　someday；　talk　with　these　people；　and　write　a　whole　chapter　of　a　learned　book　on　demonology　repeating　this　piece　of　folklore。　Other　scholars　will　pick　up　and　repeat　his　story　in　their　books　and　articles。　The　presence　of　the　devil　in　West　Virginia　in　November　1967　will　bee　a　historical　fact；　backed　by　the　testimony　of　several　witnesses。　
　　
　　Those　of　us　who　somewhat　sheepishly　spend　our　time　chasing　dinosaurs；　sea　serpents；　and　little　green　men　in　space　suits　are　painfully　aware　that　things　often　are　not　what　they　seem；　that　sincere　eyewitnesses　can…and　do…　grossly　misinterpret　what　they　have　seen；　that　many　extraordinary　events　can　have　disappointingly　mundane　explanations。　For　every　report　I　have　published　in　my　articles　and　books；　I　have　shelved　maybe　fifty　others　because　they　had　a　possible　explanation；　or　because　I　detected　problematical　details　in　the　witness's　story；　which　cast　doubt　on　the　validity　of　a　paranormal　explanation。　On　the　other　hand；　I　have　e　across　many　events　which　seemed　perfectly　normal　in　one　context　but　which　were　actually　most　unusual　when　pared　with　similar　events。　That　is；　some　apparent　coincidences　cease　to　be　coincidental　when　you　realize　they　have　been　repeated　again　and　again　in　many　parts　of　the　world。　Collect　enough　of　these　coincidences　together　and　you　have　a　whole　tapestry　of　the　paranormal。
　　
　　As　we　progress；　you　will　see　that　many　seemingly　straightforward　accounts　of　monster　sightings　and　UFO　landings　can　be　explained　by　irritatingly　plex　medical　and　psychological　theories。　In　some　cases；　the　theories　will　seem　more　unbelievable　than　the　original　events。　Please　bear　in　mind　that　the　summaries　published　here　are　backed　by　years　of　study　and　experience。　I　am　no　longer　particularly　interested　in　the　manifestations　of　the　phenomenon。　I　am　pursuing　the　source　of　the　phenomenon　itself。　To　do　this；　I　have　objectively　divorced　myself　from　all　the　popular　frames　of　reference。　I　am　not　concerned　with　beliefs　but　with　the　cosmic　mechanism　〃which　has　generated　and　perpetuated　those　beliefs。
　　
　　III。
　　
　　There　is　an　old　house　on　a　tree…lined　street　in　New　York's　Greenwich　Village　which　harbors　a　strange　ghost。　Hans　Holzer　and　other　ghost…chasers　have　included　the　house　in　their　catalogs　of　haunted　places。　The　phantom　has　been　seen　by　several　people　in　recent　years。　It　is　dressed　hi；　a　long　black　cape　and　wears　a　wide…brimmed　slouch　hat　pulled　down　over　its　eyes　as　it　slinks　from　room　to　room。　Self…styled　parapsychologists　have　woven　all　kinds　of　fantasies　around　this　apparition。　Obviously　a　spy　from　the　revolutionary　war　was　caught　and　killed　in　the　old　house。
　　
　　But　wait。　This　ghost　may　not　be　a　member　of　the　restless　dead　at　all。　There　were　never　any　reports　of　hauntings　there　until　about　twenty　years　ago；　after　the　house　was　vacated　by　a　writer　named　Walter　Gibson。　He　was；　and　is；　an　extraordinarily　prolific　author。　For　many　years　he　churned　out　a　full…length　novel　each　month