The following is an excerpt from “The Dominance Flush”
This manuscript was written in the first-person perspective of a woman named Sheila Haventon… the following chapter takes place after Haventon (director of the Catholic Society of Modern-day Disciples — see synopsis for details) and an agent working beneath her have been investigating the phenomena in Cape Neddick, Maine for a number of days…
D’Anna led me up a large rock beside the garage apartment on the Inn premises, which gave access to the dense, evergreen forest of Pine Hill. We walked along a grassy game trail that ran through a large patch of briary Juniper bushes boasting berries that closely resembled blueberries, though shriveled in appearance and unsettling when digested.
The forest wasn’t too thick at its edge, mostly consisting of maple and pine trees that dotted grassy, field-like clearings. Each of these clearings was lined with junipers, as if the prickly bushes were a deterrent to anyone thinking about entering the forest. Once in a while we would spot an oak tree during our journey in, but such a sight was rare. There were a few places where the grass broke into rocky terrain, making it seem no different than any other Maine forest, but there was something else there that gave it a sinister edge… something not seen, but felt.
“It’s just up ahead,” Johanson revealed, though I was still unclear as to what it was exactly. I followed her just the same with a mild amount of interest and curiosity. The only thing that I knew was that whatever she was leading me to had something to do with the contents of the manilla envelope, which I clasped under my arm.
As we pressed on further into the woods, the evergreen canopy began to grow thicker and thicker. We had to push low-hanging branches (which were covered with a sticky pitch that seemed impossible to remove from my hands) out of our way as we hiked along towards it. At first I had overlooked one very strange detail, which I discovered as we noisily pushed our way through the dense foliage. The forest was gravely silent. No birds chirping, animals rustling, or even leaves falling could be detected. The forest seemed to be listening… there was no other way to describe it.
“It’s quiet,” I whispered, more to myself, but Johanson heard my comment loud and clear. Her response, though I truly didn’t understand it, chilled me to the bone.
“That’s because everything is dead,” she murmured in a tone too serious for me to handle. She did not stop walking ahead of me, instead she seemed to push herself faster toward it, our destination.
“Wha… what do you mean?” I asked, stuttering a bit and making my discomfort evident. I wasn’t sure if she had heard me through her noisy movement into the forest. I waited for quite some time for a response, but eventually gave up as we came through the dense fir branches and into a clearing.
Rysher, a voice, unknown and eerie suddenly whispered within my mind as I followed Johanson into the clearing. Number forty-nine… the Benders are my pistol.
“The Benders are my pistol,” Johanson uttered in a grave voice, shocking me beyond belief as she repeated something that had appeared only within my mind. My mouth dropped open in a horrified bewilderment. I stopped walking and stared at her, mouth agape.
“What?” I asked, unable to spit out anything else.
“Don’t you hear it? In your mind, ma’am,” Johanson spoke in a whisper. “It comes from within this strange circle…”
It was at that moment that I realized where we were. I had been so distracted by the interpreting of my other sensory observances that I hadn’t been paying any attention to the clearing we had stepped into. This was no normal break in the trees though, oh no, this was a circular collection of dead trees that were nothing more than skeletons now; their bark a lifeless gray color… their leaves long departed in the blowing wind. And it was not just the trees… the grass that we stood upon was an ashen color. A patch of lifeless junipers ran along the edge to my right, no longer covered with poisonous berries and sharp thorns; they were nothing more than a pile of dead twigs now… kindling. There was no doubt in my mind that I was standing within the very circle that the Dreamers had seen the “Jesus Man” in, though the ring of fire and the “Jesus Man” himself were not there.
“How did you discover this?” I gasped, surprised that I was able to even utter that much. I continued to gaze around the circle, taking in everything, and my eyes fell upon a pine tree at the edge of the circle on my left. I gawked at this massive tree for quite some time as I attempted to make sense of what I was seeing. It’s thick trunk lay half in, half out of the circle… the outer half still lush and green, it’s bark a dark brown… the inner half, however, was just as dead as the other trees within the circle. It was half dead, half alive!
Johanson slowly approached me, trying to figure out what I was looking at. She pulled the manilla envelope out from under my arm so as to gain my attention. As I shifted my eyes to meet with her own, she handed the envelope back to me with a somber look spread across her face.
Taking it from her, I opened the envelope and removed the glossy photographs within. Taking my eyes from Johanson, I looked down and found myself gazing upon aerial photographs of a dark green forest with a circular, gray dot within the center. The pictures depicted several different views of the clearing that we now stood within. It was amazing how flawless the ring was; it was a perfect circle. It was almost as if a geometrician had designed, and airbrushed it into the photograph. This was quite obviously not the case though, given the location that I now stood in.
“A volunteer pilot working for the York Fire Department took those while out on a routine check for non-permitted bonfires in the York, Cape Neddick, and Ogunquit areas,” Johanson revealed with excitement. “Dohedge has a scanner of police and fire communication frequencies. If I hadn’t walked into her den at the time I did we would not have found this place so soon,” she looked up into the sky, “it’s almost as if God Himself is trying to help us out with this investigation.”
I stared at Johanson in disbelief. I was unable to speak… I could barely assimilate what she was saying, and what was occurring. Fortunate for me Johanson could read me like a book, and addressed my questions without needing to hear me voice them.
“You want to know how this place factors into our little field study here,” She noted, glancing around the clearing, “brace yourself for this, ma’am… I believe that we are standing within the circle of souls that the old folks spoke to me about of during my earlier studies here.” She took the photographs out of my trembling hands, and replaced them in the envelope. Looking back to me, she continued.
“We both heard that strange voice within our minds… it couldn’t be identified as being male or female… it is a force within this circle. I’m sure that you feel the same tingling sensation all over your body that I do,” she searched me for signs of agreement. I could almost feel her eyes looking me over… or perhaps it was something else that was studying me.
“It feels like your body is… falling asleep… just like pins and needles prickling your skin, right? You feel this, don’t you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in slight confusion as she was unable to read my reaction.
I could do little more than nod slowly, realizing that I did feel this sensation. My eyes briefly met with D’Anna’s before I resumed my careful observations of the circle, and made another discovery. All of the trees were intact. None of them leaned, or were falling to pieces. Looking at the ground, I noted that there were no fallen branches, limbs, leaves, or pine needles anywhere. It was almost as if, even in death, the trees were still able to keep their structural integrity.
“There is strange energy here,” Johanson revealed in amazement. If she was even the least bit afraid she hid it well, for she seemed solid with determination, and seemed completely unafraid. “The Lord has graced it with his divine power…” she trailed off, staring off into space as if her eyes were glued to the southern edge of the circle.
Suddenly, she turned toward me, “I wonder what the history of this circle holds. If that volunteer pilot never noticed this until now, what did it look like before, and what effected the extreme changes here? What made this circle that much more… noticeable…”
Suddenly, Johanson’s question triggered an epiphany to rise within my mind. “What if it’s expanding… like the circle of fire in the dreams. What if this circle is… growing?” My eyes grew wide in fear of the idea of the circle spreading out toward the dwellings in the Pine Hill community. I needed proof. Walking over to the large pine that stood at the edge of the circle, I produced a black, Sharpee marker from within my pocket. I drew a mark along the line that divided the living half from the dead half of the tree.
“You could be right,” Johanson responded, “but this raises another question, ma’am.”
“What would that be?” I asked, replacing the cap on my marker and turning toward D’Anna. I dropped the Sharpee back into my pocket.
Johanson sighed, “Why is it expanding?”
I thought this over for quite some time before shrugging, “I don’t know yet,” I responded, full of fear, “but I know that it can’t be a good thing.” I looked up as a small break in the gray clouds above allowed the sun to briefly shine down upon us.
“With all due respect, ma’am,” Johanson began, “you’ve viewed this entire investigation in that same manner. There is no proof that this is a work of evil, I mean, nothing we’ve found here can be construed as sinful. Despite this bias outlook, I must say that you hardly give yourself enough credit for the investigative talent that you have. You’re very good, ma’am.”
I wasn’t sure if I should thank her or suspend her. Deep down I knew that she was correct, but my delusions of self-perfection were like a thick wall around my flaws. I decided not to respond at all, instead turning and walking around the edge of the circle making more ink markings on trees.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, ma’am,” Johanson spoke from behind me, “I just think that we should attempt to keep an open mind about this whole thing. I apologize if I am being out of line.”
“It’s alright, D’Anna,” I assured her, though it truly was not alright. She accepted my assurance and did not pursue the topic any further.
“Do you have any speculations as to where the energy is coming from?” Johanson asked, “that is if you think that it even emanates from something physical at all.”
I thought about her question briefly though my attention was slowly being drawn to the intensifying tingling sensation in my arms and legs. I was slowly beginning to feel numb all over. Turning to D’Anna, I shrugged as a frown came over my face.
“I’m not sure,” I responded, “if it was coming from anything at all I would imagine that it is nearby… most-likely in the ground.”
Johanson nodded. As she brought her hand up before her face I watched her curiously. She was attempting to ball her hand into a fist, but was unable to do so. I realized at this moment that she was equally as numbed all over as I was, and our mutual response to the sensation was fright.
Our eyes met, locking in a frightened staring contest as the whispering voice returned within our minds. There was one difference though, the voice’s tone had gone from monotonous to furious.
RYSHER, NUMBER FORTY-NINE! THE BENDERS ARE MY PISTOL!
I looked fearfully to D’Anna, “I don’t know about you, but that just made my evil impressions of this place much more prominent in my mind!”
Johanson slowly nodded though not necessarily agreeing with me. She looked down at the ground, then back to me, “We should get back here with some shovels before the ground freezes next month.” Her stare intensified, indicating that she was deathly serious.
I sighed, rubbing my eyes and realizing that I could not feel my face at all. “Don’t worry,” I assured her, “we’ll be keeping a very close eye on this place… … are you feeling like the numbing is intensifying?”
“Yes,” she responded, adding, “It’s scaring me… when I came here earlier I didn’t stay long enough to feel it this strong.”
I quivered briefly and looked around the circle, almost as if I expected to see Satan himself standing at the edge of dead trees glaring at me. “I think that it would be best if we retired for the evening.”
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June 12th, 2005 
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