I had done shrooms about 6 times. I had heard about bad trips but that didnt really mean much to me. All the trips I had had have been the bollocks. I have always done the shrooms in the same company of friends. I have known this one guy for about 12 years.
This time was too weird. We speeded to a party. It was great. My friend had made me promise to go to another party that was on later that night. We did. At the party we all dropped a quarter of a tab. That was ok. My friend was given a bag of shrooms. He was reluctant to do any. I was a greedy fucka and ate about 4. I was the only one.
Sitting outside at the party, my friend with a quarter tab under the belt stands up and starts kicking the fuck out of a plastic chair. This is the start of it. Shrooms are coming on. It freaks me out. Hes fatter and bigger than me. I always thought he was a bit evil. I start to panic. I am really weirding out.
My friend is now the fucking devil and all the freaky girls at the party are fucking following him around the house cause they're the devils followers. Hes playing games with my mind cause hes doing a fuckin pantomine, comin in and out of the room like a rehearsed theatre play, doing some evil act with these girls but its actually intended for me. He is the devil.
I have to get out of this house. I get up to leave and two dudes are blocking the hallway. They see me coming. Ok. I know one of them and have done for years. Hes fuckin in on the gig as well. He'd been postulating and flexing his muscels like some gorilla about 20 minutes earlier. Hes always been a placid dude. The other guy next to him pulls out a swiss army knife and opens the blade, turns, and looks at me. Now I am really fearing for my life. I thought I was gonna get killed. So I manage to get outa there somehow. I walked fast. I have to cross a main road to get home. There are now 5 workin girls making a b-line for me. They knew I was fuct. I do up my zipper, pull over the hood, put my head to the dirt and bolt down a side street. Then I run for a while.
Finally I get home to my girlfriend who is the only person in the world I can speak to. She is kind but I know she doesnt understand. She is the sweet the innocent but the other side run the show. She is easy game.
On recollection I can only think that the trip tapped into the dark side that existed in these people, and that I could see that evil, and that evil could see me and it was playing with me. I wasn't one of them. They weren't the people I used to know. They were demons. They still are.
I spoke to the devil later that week. He played it all down saying 'bad trip'. He was lying.