Storming the Citadel - Colin R. Brookfield (ereader for android .TXT) 📗

To loosen the concrete he lit a large fire in the drum. When it had cooled, he gave me a hammer and chisel, then put me into the mixer drum and said, ‘Get cutting’, as he left the site. After cutting for a while, I moved my position. The drum turned and so did the engine that my father had left connected. It roared into life, spinning the drum (and me) around at speed for about fifteen revolutions before finally running out of petrol. I had survived by jamming myself tightly between the large mixing blades.

These unnatural events, typify satanic orchestration of minds and events on particular situations where it seems most opportunistic to do so and, has done so continuously ever since.

Another ‘other-worldly’ orchestrated affair began one September morning in the kitchen of my father’s three-bedroom house. By the side of me was the familiar bucket of water, Sunlight soap, scrubbing brush and floor cloth. He ordered me to ‘Get scrubbing’ and, by late evening, the top and bottom linoleum floors of the whole house had been scrubbed a total of seven times. It would have been more, had I not escaped up the stairs – followed by father, brandishing a stair rod, so I leapt through a window and disappeared out of sight.

For three weeks, I slept at night in a nearby wood covered in leaves to keep warm. Luckily, my sister Joan, who was a year older than I, had secretly kept me supplied with occasional jam sandwiches.

She paid the price for giving me that support, something dark taught her a lesson. Several days later, she was travelling at my father’s side in his 1930s car, when her door mysteriously flew open and she was ejected out into the dark. He travelled on some distance before returning and found her bruised and bleeding in the gutter, with her shoes and socks gone. The story he later told my mother was, that he had not noticed she was missing. He never took her to hospital because they ask questions and strangely enough, my mother never did.

It is of little surprise therefore, that at the age of ten, a friend and I decided to seek our fortune in some far off foreign land and for this adventure, we made our way to Gravesend.

This story is already detailed in my previous book except to say, that we finished up adrift in a tiny dingy on an ebb tide and speeding into the rotating propeller tips of an anchored ocean going ship.

I had been away for two or three weeks and on returning home, there were no questions from either of my parents and the police had never been consulted.

Whilst living on the Gold coast in Australia, I had become a seasoned surfboard rider.

The picture shows our beach on a normal day but, on this particular one, the sea was in ragged turmoil from the previous night’s cyclone and all ships were in port. Nevertheless, many other board riders were cooling themselves in the left behind pools. Then, as I walked across the sand towards my wife, something satanic again saw its chance and pulled me across the warm, dry sands into the maelstrom where I was tossed about like a rag doll.

I knew it was a death journey but something else decided otherwise and brought a smooth, board-rider’s wave (untouched by the chaos) straight to me and I caught it. As I rose upwards, I had another shock! I was a quarter of a mile out at sea and had only been there for a couple of seconds. That wave took me all the way back to the beach and I had never known a rider stay that distance on the same wave. I then heard the incredulous voices of those other seasoned board riders who had seen me go to my certain death and, then rescued by a miraculous wave that just did not belong. My wife delivered the final shock. “You’ve been in the sea for over an hour!” she exclaimed. My experience had therefore occurred within a stage-managed time-frame being conducted by opposing forces of unimaginable power.

It was due to the scale upon which these acts of titanic elemental force clashed, that the most awesome of all truths were revealed. Firstly, that one force was hell-bent on the destruction of the Dream carrier and the other, determined that the Dreaming will succeed. Again, this is one of those happenings where the normally covert activities of the universal infernal presence has had cause to reveal itself in such a clear objective way and as the angelic also had.

On another occasion in Cyprus on a calm day, an imperceptible force pulled me over the edge of a cliff and I was later found unconscious on the rocks below.

Shortly afterwards, whilst my wife was in England, I was swimming in the sea with others but, someone had put a tablet in my cool drink and I was found unconscious in the sea. I was informed later that I had been taken to hospital but, did not remember having done so. There was much worse to follow, that I would rather forget.

I must again reiterate that all of these unnatural events and many more during my life, are connected. For I am indeed, being hunted by something evil and is doing so because the re-emergence of ‘Dreamtime’ experiences in one or more people, could in time, influence a wider renaissance and, through that process, satanic influence could find itself under serious exposure and threat.

My life became even more bizarre when a sister of mine living in Australia, who had broken contact forty years previously, became ill. We were living in Cyprus at the time when she was taken into palliative care. At the moment of her passing, the tears ran down her face as she said, “I’ll never leave this place, I’m dying”. I know this because, at that very moment, a conversation with my wife was interrupted as the tears ran down my face and I said, “I’ll never leave this place I’m dying”, whilst inwardly, I battled against something trying to draw the soul out of me (I now know this resides in the thorax region). My wife was astonished!

The following day we received the news from Australia that my sister had passed. There is a seven-hour difference between Australia and Cyprus and, she had died at the precise moment of my identical experience.

I had shared my sister’s words and feelings at exactly the same moment but I also knew that, something evil had been trying to send me on the same death journey. This was more evidence of satanic attack upon me – its ‘Dreamtime’ enemy but something else, was ensuring my survival. Once again, the infernal influence had made a clear objective appearance through that of its physical phenomena.

Another near death experience occurred whilst in the army. During a battlefield scheme, I was sent with a message to the Commanding Officer’s tank, positioned on the top of a nearby hill. On arrival, I parked at the side of the tank; it was as well I chose that place because, engineers had just planted a heavy explosive charge on the opposite side, which detonated as I decamped from my vehicle.

The purpose of the great crater that it left, was to position the tank within it, whereby it had a low profile from incoming ordinance, whilst its own gun could dominate the low ground in a real war. My angelic helper was again at hand.

In 1991, as my wife and I were watching the military Blues and Royals band at our local theatre, we were ‘accompanied’ by the largest bomb ever planted in the UK by the IRA. Its fuse failed! So once again, my helper had been present. At a time of IRA high alert, one must also wonder at the strange way that the police security presence had remained socialising within the theatre atrium and not, checking the exterior perimeter.

The following morning, twenty-seven pounds of Cemtex explosive was discovered by Honey, our neighbour’s Labrador.

Help was again at my side as I drove towards Hampton court. It was a narrow two-way traffic road with a continuous deep ditch to my left. At the hea of the road was a blind right turning and as I was about to take it, two racing cars blocking both lanes, came round straight in front of me, so I swung my car towards the ditch.

Then to my astonishment, I found myself completely safe in a cornfield. I had passed over an unseen concrete slab and through a large timber farm gate that had been left open; it was almost as though I had been expected.

Once again, the events were too perfectly choreographed to have been in any way natural and again, carry the undeniable signatures of opposing elemental forces.

These were just a few, out of hundreds of such examples for which, there is never enough space to add them all.

Furthermore, I must again reiterate that it is the incontrovertible means, by which these attacks had occurred, which again proved the reality of ‘stage-management’, by an infernal entity upon me throughout my life. Moreover, nothing wastes energy and focus of attention to the degree that it has across decades, without a very desperate reason for doing so.

Fortunately, I do not get psychologically damaged by the continuances of this dark activity – that is because I have been kept in balance by the ongoing presence of angelic dreamtime re-emergence.

From a lucid dream, I was given the remote viewing ability to find our lost Siamese felines and, unite many other pets back to their places of origin.

I received amazing remote communications from these lost creatures and clear pictures of where they were, or had been, including the time and place where they would meet us. The details are in ‘The Cassandra Syndrome’ book. More to the point, these objective manifestations are the God given inheritance that has been stolen from us all and I shall explain as we go along, how this crime was instigated.

A learning curve

A most painful ending for one lost feline occurred with ‘Ozzy’ whilst I was living in Cyprus. His carers asked if I could locate him and brought his toy for me to locate him through psychometry. Through this, I viewed him walking along a garden path and into a shed where he was shut in. The following morning I sat in my chair and meditated on his case, just as he escaped the confines of the shed. I still shudder at what came next. In unison with Ozzy, my head swung quickly to the right, as though in fearful expectation. At that second, Ozzy was struck on the head by a speeding car and killed. These details were confirmed later.

The impact blow upon Ozzy’s head was also made upon me; it came in the form of a painless, yet massive metallic bang to the right of my head and my mind spun horribly. This experience was then expressed in Ozzy’s mind in these words, ‘A Stinger!’ I know this, because it came to me immediately in a loud, clear, (and to my astonishment) woman’s voice.

There is much more intended by this; it comes also as an exercise in the associated mental and physical pain that is imposed upon any creature (no matter how large or small) when we subject it to a violent death. Therefore, this was also an angelic learning curve.

These remarkable happenings are a testament to how far we have moved away from the pristine commonality of all creature togetherness of beginning times. Moreover, that these manifestations through me, really are echoes of what was once common to our kind.

To find a cat called Milo, I used a map and a rule. Then, with my eyes closed at all times, I dowsed the area where