TI Story Two Years On:
The gift of sleep slowly lifted from his eyes and he gradually became aware that he was conscious but didn't really know where he was for a moment. The windows were closed but since it was Spring the sounds of birds chirping was just audible but he didn't even register the sound. As soon as he became conscious the silent sound began to buzz in his ears, the sound that was always with him, had been with him for the past two years. In the two seconds between being asleep and awake he heard nothing. Now that he was awake and consciously registered who and where he was the sound slowly began its relentless electronic hum in his ears. Even before he could roll over or sit up the high pitched buzzing took over as if someone had placed head phones on his ears and turned the stereo all the way up with no music playing, just background noise, electronic static. It registered a higher pitch than his stereo, perhaps a shorter frequency wave made it sound higher pitched. In his mind he wanted to reject his current situation and the reality he was trapped in. The mind seeks escape from impossible positions but there is also resignation and acceptance. He chose not to run from it anymore. For two years he had been lost in a maze of torture from which he now realized there would be no escape. The inevitability of defeat and death were staring him in the face but so was the will to continue to struggle against that which cannot be bargained with. His name was David Stone, he was a 42 year old attorney living in Seattle and he was a targeted individual. It seemed impossible to him lying here after moving four times in the last two years. It had begun slowly. First came six months of gang stalking or mobbing. The locals in town had begun to yell and curse at him everywhere he went. The organized harassment behavior was some kind of calculated game played by hundreds of people with the goal of driving him out of his home and out of town. The KKK had done it to targets in the old days, it was called mobbing back then. He didn't understand why, at first he thought he must have done something to someone who was connected to the Cripps or someone who controlled a large organization like a drug distribution network. He had exchanged harsh words with his neighbors in a Hispanic neighborhood over loud music a couple of times and he had reported the house across the street to the police for selling drugs. There was traffic at all hours of the day and night and it was obvious, at least to him, that they were selling crack. The stalking and cursing and threats went on every day, sometimes 10-20 events a day and he couldn't figure it out. Why would hundreds of strangers engage in some kind of highly organized stalking game to destroy him emotionally, professionally, even physically. What was the motivation and who were they? The organized stalking seemed to have rules and methods. Only verbal abuse of a specific kind was allowed and not in front of witnesses who might corroborate his story. If a potential witness was nearby instead of saying to him "you suck" like they did ten times a day, it was standard gestures, they just put a finger in their mouth and leered at him, or spit. It was calculated pressure designed to wear a person down but not the kind of thing that was illegal. If he had tried to tell anyone or report it he would have looked foolish at best. It was clear that the people who played the game, the perpetrators, were very experienced in the art of mobbing or gang stalking, and had it down to a fine art that slowly wore down the target. After midnight when his neighbors were asleep high school kids took turns standing just beyond his back fence and calling out curses and taunts. It was pitched loud enough to hear but not so loud that the elderly neighbors were disturbed. Most of the hard core perpetrators were high school age Hispanics or older who wore light blue colors like a bandana or shirt that identified them as Cripps. But it was more than just gang members, young kids, old folks, people from all walks of life seemed to get a perverse pleasure from sticking their own verbal barbs in him everywhere he went. It was like running the gauntlet everyday. Even law enforcement recognized him and some chose to participate in the organized harassment trying to drive him out of town...or out of this world. Virtually from the moment he woke up and all through the day, and even into the wee hours of the morning he was the target of constant insult and injury. The litany was always a variation on just a couple of standard phrases, "you suck", "pussy", "punk" and "better get the fuck out bitch". Even as he drove down the street in his car many people who passed would mouth the words to him in an exaggerated manner, or do the standard gesture for oral sex while laughing at him. After a while it became clear to him that he was being tracked using GPS because the perps pop up at just the right time and would send a text message as soon as they saw him. Stone got rid of his cell phone but they continued to know his every move. A dozen perpetrators might follow him into a store and block his path or brush into him on purpose. He would turn a corner and a perpetrator would time it just right to bump him and whisper, "pussy bitch". It was bizarre that so many strangers would participate with such gusto at a game that seemed pointless. All that time and effort spent on harassing him didn't make sense. He was a mild mannered person who had a few friends but generally liked to be alone and read or work. He didn't have any real enemies, perhaps the neighbors who blasted music and sold drugs. He kept thinking that he must have done something to someone powerful, he must of done something to deserve it. Stone called the cops a few times but the kids who took turns yelling all night just went away and then came back later. He soon realized that the program of organized stalking included more than the Cripps and a few opportunistic sadists. The oldest person who had cursed at him had been in their eighties and the youngest had been about ten years old. It had shocked him at the time, but now nothing shocked him anymore. After a few weeks of running the gauntlet of abuse he was exhausted and felt depressed. Stone resolved to ignore them and not let it bother him and after a few months they would see that he didn't care and give up the harassment but even after six months it continued and seemed to escalate in nature. The abuse now included vandalism of his house and car and threats to his life such as a car racing full speed right for him then veering off at the last second with the two twenty year old perps inside laughing and having the time of their lives. Just when he wasn't sure if he could stand it anymore is when they took it to the next level. On several consecutive nights he woke at exactly the same time, 2:30 AM on the dot. The fourth night in a row he awoke at 2:30 and then he heard a voice say, "punk", and the sound of muted laughing. Stone thought they might have crept up to the window but there was no one there. The voice continued to taunt him in the standard manner and he realized that the voice seemed to emanate from within the room. He realized that it probably wasn't a hidden microphone but the sound had a reflective quality like an echo and it was in fact sound that was being bounced off the wall near his head. He felt like he must be imagining things except he recognized the voices of his neighbors from across the street who found selling controlled substances preferable to working for a living. It sounded like they were having an all night party and using some kind of sound technology to project sound into the room. The only thing that separated him from their house was a bay window. There was no mistaking the familiar sound of their twenty year old voices and their favorite insults and curses. The targeting operation moved into a different realm, a realm of technology and sleep deprivation. Stone searched on the internet and found what they were using, the Hyper-sonic Sound System, (HSS). A unique breakthrough in sound projection capable of shooting a tight beam of sound for many hundreds of feet and only audible when it hit a solid surface. The literature said that the HSS would not be audible to a person standing right next to you. The high tech system was for sale on the internet and since the neighbors had turned their cars into stereos on wheels it made sense that they might be aware of the HSS. To his horror Stone soon found that the neighbors were able to track his movements within the home and to bounce sound off any surface at will, with a particular affinity for the side of his head whenever he sat down to rest, whether sitting on the couch, in bed, or in the bath tub. The only way that he was able to avoid the HSS sound attack was to keep moving through the house and not stand or sit in one place very long, or to invite friends to visit and sit near them. Stone told his best friend that he was being stalked by the Cripps and they were using the HSS to attack him in his home. The perpetrators careful not to tip their hand and only once did someone in the house notice something when a friend sitting at the kitchen table suddenly asked, "What's that buzzing noise". Stone had long since given up trying to alert those around him to his plight and after months of constant attacks he was worn down. He merely smiled sadly and shrugged. That episode was eighteen months ago and now Stone reflected back on that era almost fondly because the perpetrators had continued to escalate the attacks with increasing levels of technology. The perps had followed him to a park one evening and it was dark but Stone saw a small group surrounding a young guy who wielded a hand held device of some kind. Stone strode away from them but he suddenly found himself unable to move. They had begun using a type of weapon referred to as a tetanizing ray that seemed to freeze his muscles and he was unable to move his legs at all. He stood there horrified when he realized what was happening and the crowd chortled in glee. "All right, you made your damn point". "What's it all about for you, is it a thrill kill, is that it?" "What am I guilty of, who did I kill?" The electronic beam ceased and he was able to move his legs again. The crowd seemed to melt away at his questions like they had come to their senses. On other occasions he had been attacked at home with some kind of sonic device that had fired bullets of sound at him that seemed to ricochet around inside his skull with frightening force and make his head shake violently. Shortly after the escalation using nonlethal weapons he had decided to visit friends and get away from the harassment for a while but when he went out on the road he encountered hostility and the same taunts in the smallest faraway towns. Stone imagined an internet based game that always kept a GPS cursor on his exact position and some kind of smear campaign that painted him as a person who had done some terrible act deserving ultimately death. They were in fact, as one friend had remarked, killing his spiritual body in preparation to killing his physical body. The perps may have even been able to collect some kind of reward for each barb stuck into his flesh. The fervor of the attacks and the lengths people went to go out of their way to cross his tracks must have made for some kind of monetary pay off. Stone stopped in a state park late at night and hid his car in the trees to avoid a tail. The pick up truck following him pulled into the camping space in front of him and he could hear their voices clearly. "I don't see him, we lost him". The sound of a female voice about thirty five years old answered him back over his radio. "He is parked right in front of you about thirty feet". The truck circled around the camping spot to no avail. "I still don't see him". "He is west of you position exactly forty feet". He hit his high beams and finally spotted me concealed in the trees and then parked in a nearby camping spot and turned off his lights. The female voice on the radio had sounded slightly edgy and reminded him of a forward air controller for a military mission but he doubted she was military. The GPS tracking system in the car may have been the culprit but he couldn't do anything about it. Stone realized that he was facing unlimited manpower and unlimited budgets that included exotic nonlethal weapons like the HSS, the Tetanizer, The Squawk Box or Sound Curdler, and a nationwide network that used GPS to track him everywhere he went. This game of organized harassment, stalking or gang stalking was not a game set up by the Cripps but something far more well organized and sinister. After nearly one year of hard won experience he realized that the strategy seemed to be to drive him from place to place until he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his car or reacted violently and wound up in jail, or even gave up in total desperation and took his own life. After one year of constant pounding the game now reached an apex of terror and torture. Stone moved into a small house in the country perched upon the side of a mountain. The nearest neighbors were on top of the mountain and about a quarter of a mile away at the foot of the valley. The first day in the house he felt his face grow hot and he became dizzy and unable to continue to speak to his guest. That night he felt the same heating sensation like the side of his face was close to a hot oven burner, and then his upper chest and head began to burn. Stone went to the shower and turned on the water and got some relief but he could tell that the perps were using a new weapon on his body and he couldn't spend all night in the shower. The attacks continued to heat up his body all night, burning his chest and his face and his groin without mercy. He tried to sleep in different positions and locations but nothing seemed to help and the perps were relentless in their attacks. He was tortured all evening when he got home until he passed out at five in the morning. The shower was his best strategy but he also tried putting metal on top of himself when he laid down to sleep but this was only marginally effective. Stone got used to two hours sleep and being constantly burned until he felt like he couldn't physically stand up anymore. He was determined to get to work every morning on time and remain at work and not let the perps run him off again. Eventually the building where he worked became the location for the same kind of attacks that heated up his head and upper chest at home. The attacks continued for months and try as he might he could not find what kind of weapon they were using listed anywhere on the internet nor could he tell where it was coming from or who was doing it to him. The verbal taunts in public continued but after a year of running the gauntlet he was no longer sensitized to the attacks and was able to ignore them. The physical cooking of his body and the scientific application of torture that allowed only two hours sleep a night was something he could not ignore. At times it had felt like the perps were playing with him but now it felt like they were trying to kill him. Whenever one person has absolute power over another human being they are liable to treat them with the utmost cruelty and this weapon or weapons did just that. He flailed around in bed and changed his position constantly so the heating of his body was not focused on one location for very long. He closed his eyes at night and imagined himself inside an oversized microwave oven rotating around and around as the radiation heated his body until he slowly cooked. Stone began to take a very fatalistic attitude towards his situation and started chain smoking filter less cigarettes. At times he screamed bloody murder and imagined that they might be able to hear him and he taunted them and attempted to provoke the perps into killing him. At night he still tried to work while he was slowly cooked and during the day the perps applied the same treatment using less energy when he was in the company of others and in a crowded room at work the attacks would nearly cease. Six months of aggressive attacks left Stone a physical and emotional wreck. He moved his belongings into storage and began to live in his car to get some relief. The organized stalkers taunted him verbally, laughed in his face and told him, "get the fuck out pussy". He began to sleep in national parks at night so the Feds would have to investigate if he were murdered. He still showed up at work but went home only to shower, it was just too hot to stay. Eventually he gave up the fight when it looked like they were preparing to murder him. He was sleeping on a friends couch when he heard a car pull up outside. The beam weapon hit his body with terrible force and he retreated to the kitchen. Stone could not stand up under the intense attack and fell to the floor. "Not like this, Not like this", he kept repeating as he tried to crawl away out the back door. He passed out as he was sure he was going to die but awoke in the morning where he lay. After several similar episodes Stone began to spontaneously say, "What will it profit a man if he gain the world and lose his soul", out loud without realizing it. He knew he had to move again. Now he lay on a mattress on the floor in a bare apartment in the morning light with the electronic buzz in his ears telling him he was still a target and still alive. His body began to heat up and he reflected that his life and pain had become welded together and he would never lose one without losing the other. This weapon was a pain amplifier and he was going to live out the rest of his life trapped in its hellish grasp. Life gives you choices though not always good ones. After many attempts at contacting the authorities Stone knew that no one in power could or would help him. He could continue to live inside the pain amplifier until he became sick from the radiation and died. He could attack the perps and take as many of them as he could with him or wind up in prison. He could continue to tell the authorities and complain at which point, eventually, they would call him crazy and commit him just to shut him up. Finally, he could commit suicide. He decided to fight back as long as he could, until his health failed or he was killed. It might take years and he really had no expectation of escape but the alternatives were even worse. As the gradual heating of his head and chest increased Stone began to walk around the apartment to keep the heat from building up full force on one point of his anatomy while he read all the books he could find on nonlethal weapons and the history of human experimentation. It was the beginning of year three and it was going to be a long one.
Non-lethal tetanizing weapon: United States Patent 5675103
A non-lethal weapon for temporarily immobilizing a target subject by means of muscular tetanization in which the tetanization is produced by conducting a precisely-modulated electrical current through the target. Because the electrical current is a close replication of the physiological neuroelectric impulses which control striated muscle tissue, it tetanizes the subject's skeletal muscles without causing any perceptible sensation. The transmission of this current to the distant target is via two channels of electrically conductive air. The conductive channels are created by multi-photon and collisional ionization within the paths of two beams of coherent (laser) or columnated incoherent ultraviolet radiation directed to the target. A single beam may be used to tetanize a grounded target. The high-voltage tetanizing current flows from electrodes at the origin of the beams along the channels of free electrons within them.
A sonic weapon is pretty much what it sounds like: using sound waves as weapons. And there are tons of them: the Long Range Acoustic Device, the Sonic Bullet, the Curdler (AKA People Repeller), the Shout, the Acoustic Blaster, the Hyperspike, the Acoustic Bazooka, the HyperSonic Sound System, the Aversive Audible Acoustic Device, the Gayle Blaster, the Acoustic Canon, the Sequential Arc Discharge Acoustic Generator, the Mosquito, and the Squawk Box. Basically, each of these is a take on one of two approaches: attack the hearing or attack the body.
An Active Denial System that fires 95 GHz-millimeter-wave directed energy is being developed for multiple uses by a multi-organizational team. ADS systems are a new class of nonlethal weaponry using 95 GHz-millimeter-wave directed energy. This technology is capable of rapidly heating a person’s skin to achieve a pain threshold that has been demonstrated by AFRL human subject testing to be very effective at repelling people, without burning the skin or causing other secondary effects. The US Department of Energy Office of Security and Safety Performance Assurance (SSA) is exploring the potential to use directed energy weapons technology sponsored by the Department of Defense (DoD), named Active Denial Technology (ADT), to help protect DOE nuclear assets. SSA is sponsoring Sandia National Laboratories, a National Nuclear Security Administration lab, to investigate how the technology can be used on adversaries by developing a new small-sized Active Denial System (ADS) to meet the unique and rapidly evolving security needs of DOE. To help solve the many technical issues associated with this challenge, Sandia has partnered with Raytheon and the Air Force Research Laboratory (AFRL), because both organizations have significant experience with earlier ADS system developments.