The first part of this story is here.

After the extraordinary display of paranormal excitement in the hills above Napa Valley Judy and Autumn reported a notable decrease in activity overall around the grounds. Maybe the energy played itself out, maybe it’s recharging, time will tell. It certainly wasn’t something any of us will ever forget. Unfortunately for me, I might have brought something unexpected back from Ravens Springs.

As you might expect, no one slept much once we retired to the solace of Judy and Autumn’s home. Just before dawn, with sleep still eluding me, I decided to go outside again – not far, mind you, but just to see how the energy of the place was facing the imminent dawn. Venus stirred as I made my way across the living room and stretched to join me.

We agreed the entity that had passed through the office had continued through and the airy feeling the place had before had been restored. Just outside the door, too, the atmosphere was tranquil, the first song birds beginning their prelude to the dawn. Which was one of the reasons the “caw!” from an enormous raven perched on the roof rail of my Subaru startled us. As we laughed at ourselves it cawed again, folding open its massive wings. I’ve encountered my share of ravens, but this bird’s wingspan stretched six feet. We laughed nervously in the pre-dawn when the rapid fluttering of black wings around my head caught me utterly off guard. I beat my hands around my head to shoo whatever it was away – my first thought was a bat. Venus said she didn’t see anything fluttering around my head. A moment later it was gone as quickly as it came, but a splitting headache pierced my forehead. I chalked it up at the time to no sleep and lack of caffeine, and Venus and I left the giant bird to rectify the latter in the kitchen downstairs.

When the sun rose high enough to warm the place again Larry headed up to the cemetery and knoll to retrieve his recording devices. Soon we bid our hosts adieu and agreed amongst ourselves to meet the following evening after we’d had a chance to review our experiences and equipment. Following Jeff, Larry, and Venus down the drive to the main row I slammed on my brakes as the giant raven dove at my windshield pulling up just before impact. I caught my breath and continued, but could see the huge black bird in my rearview mirror seemingly following me. At the base of the hill, Jeff paused and pulled in after a wine bus. I paused a moment and looked back to see the raven perched – appropriately – on the wrought iron gate proclaiming “Ravens Springs”. A stretched Hummer limo sped by and I put my foot down and hurriedly put some distance between me and that bird.

Once home I was eager to take a shower and a nap, but neither came easy. I had barely had time to shampoo my hair when the bathroom door slammed violently. I threw open the shower curtain, but the bathroom was empty. Turning off the water and grabbing my towel I checked the house, picking up my chef’s knife from the kitchen before continuing my survey. The front door remained locked, as was the back door and the windows. My cat, Edgar, slept peacefully on my bed. Cautiously (and with the knife still in hand) I returned to the bathroom to find the shower running again, curtain pulled closed. Knife at the ready I pulled back to reveal the shower empty. Behind me the door slammed closed on its own again. Nerves frayed, I left the bathroom door closed and locked it, set my knife on the sink and mercifully enjoyed my shower.

Taking a note from the bathroom, I closed the bedroom door before drawing the blinds against the afternoon light, so I could get a little rest. I fell into a dream nearly as soon as my eyes closed – highly unusual for me for a nap. I was back at Ravens Springs but up on the knoll in front of the house that burned in the fire. I turned around and immediately saw the pools had a simple awning over them, not the complex of buildings. And further to the west I saw the boys’ cabins – shacks, really.  Turning back, the front door had opened of its own volition. I walked inside. From somewhere deeper in the house I heard a child crying.  I tried to follow the sound as I walked the hallways which were twisted and tilted by dream logic – at one point I walked on the wall which had canted over nearly horizontal. Turning down another corridor the floor (and it was the floor again) was an inch deep in red liquid. Squatting down for a better look I was relieved to see it was red wine, but slogging through it barefoot made for slow going. Another corner and this hallway stabilized, the crying seemed to come from the room at the end of the hallway, the cries growing more frantic. I ran down the hallway which kept growing longer because of course it would. I finally reached the room, turned the knob and threw open the door. Looming in front of me stood an imposing bear of a man, a full head taller than me. He scowled through a bushy black full beard and mustache. He arched an eyebrow in recognition and then reached out one huge hand towards my face placing his fingers on my forehead. No, he pressed his fingers into my head, the pain from my headache doubling into agony. The huge man started laughing at my pain as I tried to pull back but I couldn’t move and he laughed harder, his peals of laughter deafening. Then the laughing and throbbing pain split by a sharp tearing and I opened my eyes in my bed. Edgar sat on my chest, paw raised with claws extended for another swipe. Breathing heavily, I felt my face and came away with a drop of blood from Edgar’s first swipe. I tried to calm myself and reached up with my other hand to pet him and said, “Good kitty,” as he started to purr.

The headache had gone, and the scratch barely drew blood, the sting fading almost immediately. Focus eluded me for the rest of the afternoon. Edgar wouldn’t leave my side, eschewing his food and treats, and repeatedly jumping on my lap until I gave in and let him stay. Jeff called a little later saying we needed to meet sooner than later. I asked if he wanted the whole gang there and he said he did.

We met up at Hopmonk off the square taking a quiet table in the back, the Saturday dinner crowd having not yet arrived. Venus saw me first and waved me over. Jeff was swiping through images some streaked with glowing orbs and slashes of light and the next in a sequence perfectly dimly lit images of the grounds. Before I had a chance to ask Larry what was going on the waiter arrived. He’d already taken their drink orders, but Larry told him I needed “Something very strong.” I gave him a puzzled look and he just nodded. I ordered a Vesper Martini and when the waiter left I asked what was so urgent.

He handed me a pair of headphones. I put them on, Larry tapped play, and the color drained from my face and I felt ice in my veins. There was the sound of wind at first, then a sound rising and rising and rising until it distorted – it was the man from my dream laughing. The recording cut off and I looked up to see Venus, Jeff, and Larry all staring at me concerned. “Where was this recorded?!” I asked, the words coming out a little more loudly than I had intended. Larry indicated that device had been on the knoll where the house once stood. I pressed my face into my hands and then said, “I heard that voice in my dream today.” I didn’t eat much, but drank a lot. Jeff and Venus took me home and offered to stay with me overnight. Normally I’d protest, but I couldn’t agree fast enough.

Back at my house, they helped my inebriated self into bed and closed the door. Before I drifted into the swimming darkness I could hear them talking in the kitchen their indistinct voices life warm breezes. I woke up with a start sometime later to Edgar on my chest facing the foot of the bed in a full spitting hiss, back arched, hair on end. I followed his gaze and saw a black smoky figure sitting on the edge of my bed. I tried to move found I was paralyzed. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Sensing I was awake, the figure moved a hazy arm towards my body. Edgar launched a quick swipe causing the figure to recoil. Edgar followed it up with a loud hissing yowl. His vocalizations were loud enough to get the attention of Jeff and Venus and I heard them calling for me from outside the bedroom. I tried to call back, but I still couldn’t move. Again, the man tried to reach in to touch me and again Edgar held him at bay with a sharp swipe and yowl. The door knob rattled but the door wouldn’t budge – I don’t have a lock on my bedroom door. The man reached in with both arms, Edgar swatting at one, but I watched helplessly as the other black smoky arm closed towards my face, the hazy fingers firming into tendrils drifting towards my forehead.

The door flew open with a crash as Jeff launched himself at it. Venus stepped into the room, gasped and then demanded, “GET OUT!” Her words weren’t just noise, but carried with them a wind-like psychic power that struck the smoky figure, dispelling the dark cloud, and breaking my paralysis. I could move again, but all I could do was sob.

We all three slept in my king-sized bed, Edgar on my chest, door propped open with a chair and every light in the house on full brightness. When the morning came, whatever had followed me down from Ravens Springs had gone and my house felt like my own again. I met with Judy and Autumn a few weeks later in St. Helena – I didn’t feel like venturing up there again so soon — and shared with them the evidence Larry had collected and the impressions that Jeff and Venus had written up. They told me about the decrease in activity, and that they’d invited a number of spiritual people up to bless the grounds – a Native American medicine man, a priest, a rabbi, a Taoist monk, an imam… they weren’t taking any chances. I was grateful to hear that a modicum of peace had come to Ravens Springs. All the same, I’m eagerly awaiting Harbin Hot springs to reopen.