Hello everyone, I've been reading the stories on this site
for a while now and always checkout the new stories every
month.
I come from a remote part of Western Australia known as the
Kimberley and growing up I have heard many stories from my
family about all kind of paranormal activity.
The (TRUE) story I am going to tell has been told to me
many times and I always get freaked out by it.
Our family
has guardian angels (for lack of a better word) that warn of
danger and when I say guardians I mean there are two of
them and when I say angels I mean BIG BLACK DOGS.
My great Uncle was a Tribal Law Man, this means that if anyone broke
the Law he would have the authority to kill them and was
also capable of magic such as "singing people" (this means
that he could kill people great distances away by
performing a ceremony). When he was alive he had the
closest connection with the BIG BLACK DOGS and whenever
anyone died that he knew they would come to him and tell
him, he always knew before anyone else (this happened at our
house once). Now on with the stories.
WARNING #1
This first story happened years ago in the middle of the
bush and it happened to my uncle and auntie.
They had decided to go on a fishing/camping trip for the
weekend with some other members of my family and stopped at
a popular fish spot. After unpacking their things and
setting up camp everyone started to fish. Before it started
to get dark my Uncle and Auntie were standing by the river
and my Auntie noticed two HUGE BLACK DOGS in the distance
standing next each other. She pointed them out to my Uncle
which made him feel very uneasy because there wasn't anyone
in that area at the time besides them (he grew hearing the
stories as well). So after talking for a while they decided
that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to hang around and
packed everything back into the car and went back into
town before it got too late.
Anyway a couple of days later they pretty much forgot about
what happened and then on the news that night it said how a
father and son who had been fishing only a few hundred
meters away from where they were to camp that day had been
murdered by a crazed gunmen and their bodies dumped in the
river for the crocodiles.
The gunman went on a killing
spree for a couple of weeks and was eventually shot dead.
WARNING #2
This next one is pretty sad.
When my dad and his brothers were all in their mid 20's
they would go and play in Basketball competitions in the
neighboring towns and on this occasions my grandmother
kept on insisting that the youngest brother go to the comp
in the same car with them and to watch him.As they would
follow at their own pace but the youngest brother being
head strong jumped on another car.
Anyway the car he was traveling in was hit by a Road Train
(Truck with 2-3 trailers) and he was killed instantly.
Years of grieving later my grandparents told of how they
had pulled up by the side of the road that day to have a
break when the road train that killed him went flying past
them and to this day they would swear on the bible
(Christians) that the driver wasn't a person at all but a
Black Dog was behind the wheel.
THANK YOU FOR READING.
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