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Murder: Southern-Style; A Psychic Profiling Part 1

Updated: Aug 3, 2023

Imagine waking up to a sunny Southern morning, drinking your coffee, and planning out your day. When Mike showed up for work on just such a day, he never imagined his plans would be interrupted by murder.

What is psychic profiling? For me, it is obtaining information and messages from those who have passed. People often come to me for help filling in the missing pieces. Many police organizations will use the services of a gifted medium to assist in unsolved cases. I am about to tell you the story of one such unsolved case. Out of respect for the victim’s family and protection for my family, all names have been changed.

In February 2017, one of my family members approached me about their missing friend, Mike. The family member sent me a picture of Mike and asked if I could “get” anything from his picture.

Psychic profiling is incredibly challenging for a gifted medium; this is never a favorite task of mine. I’ll often uncover facts and truths that may be hurtful or cause sadness. I didn’t really want to do this, but after a week of deliberation, I decided to see what I could do. I kept reminding myself that I was not doing this for myself; for some reason, I was chosen for this task, and the answers I would receive were for the intended to do with what they would.

Mike was a young man in his mid-20's from a southern state, and was a childhood friend of my family member. He was a son, a brother, a father to a little girl, and had been missing for a week when I was approached about his case. Before I gather information, I surround myself in bright light and ask for protection. I ask the subject – in this case Mike – to show me what they want me to see. I sat down with the picture of Mike and asked, “What do you want me to know? How can I help you? What messages, if any, can I give?” Mike didn’t waste any time. He started explaining, yelling, and telling me so much information all at once that I quickly became overwhelmed. I had to ask Mike to slow down and be calm.

Unfortunately, the first piece of information Mike let me know was that he was not only missing, but dead.

Mike showed himself to me. He was a heavy-set man. He was wearing a blue shirt, blue jeans, and work boots.

I first asked Mike to tell me about himself, to confirm some information my family member had told me about him. Mike was a foreman for the lumber company his father and uncle had founded many years ago. Mike told me that his parents were divorced, and that he was in a relationship with his daughter’s mother. I’m convinced that I was speaking with Mike.

"Alright, Mike, let’s start from the beginning.” As I said this, I was transformed to the place where Mike’s story began. I began to see the location and all the surroundings where Mike was murdered. I was now walking along with him as he guided me through the events of that day.

Mike started to tell me what happened and said, “They caught me off guard.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I know the two guys that did this to me.” Mike went on to describe two men who worked for his dad’s company. One man was white with short hair and a scruffy beard. He was of average build, and shorter than Mike. The other man was black, tall, and thin.

I asked Mike how he died. Mike explained that the two men had approached him around noon while he was on his skid tractor. Mike showed me where he was: a large field with low shrubs and tree stumps with tall thin pines. The men walked from the road and through the brush over to him. Mike thought to himself, “What do these two bubbas want?” They began talking about work.

Mike continued showing me his story. He’d been talking to the black man when the white man came behind him and struck him on the head. The white man had some type of object made of wood. I first thought it was a baseball bat, but it was much longer. I got the sense it was a tool used by someone who worked cutting trees. Mike fell to his knees, then to his side. When Mike went down, the black man stabbed him.

“I felt the blood running down my neck,” Mike said. “Then, I felt this sharp burning pain on my side.” I saw Mike trying to get up and being pushed back down. The black man stabbed Mike again.

The white man ran back to the truck and returned with a blue blanket. They wrapped Mike up and carried him back to the truck.

To be continued ...


Eastern Connecticut Paranormal Society
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