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Thursday Edition

Midnight Rider: The Corridor of Death REVEALED!

Night Five EPISODE 7



I’ve traveled 844 miles, the farthest yet in 11 hours and am spellbound by a Voodoo Priestess. I am 69.8 gallons of gas, 2 gallons of coffee, 4 packs of cigs and 44 hours into my allotted 60 hour timetable. I’ve now been awake for 30 hours straight. Hypnotized by the most alluring woman I’ve ever met, my time line is shot; I am completely off track, off schedule…
Lisette Duran, Voodoo Priestess
Lisette Duran, Voodoo Priestess

“No you’re not Lisette laughs, you said this is the fifth day and you’ve traveled 44 hours, you have a whole day off, your allowed to drive 60 hours in seven days, and this is only day five, you can take it off and you’ll have 11 hours on day six and then 5 hours on day seven.”

She is of course right, at this point I am a zombie and don’t know who or where I am.

“Come stay at my place, your motorcycle is safe here, trust me.”

She hands my keys to a massive bouncer and tells him to put my bike in lockdown. Now I am Lisette’s zombie, she says and I do, just like everyone else around her. We get into the most decked out Hummer I’ve ever seen and drive fifteen minutes to her house, well actually mansion. It’s a gated estate with stunning modern architecture, a pool, Jacuzzi and incredible view overlooking an immense golf course.

Koz: “This place is yours?”

Lisette: “Yeah, all mine, all paid for.”

Koz: “That’s right, 300 a trick, 300 grand a year tax free.”

Lisette: “Consider yourself lucky old man very few come here, only my best clients, you have to be careful in my business. Now you take a shower and come sleep with me. Don’t worry, I’m not turning a trick, you’re useless and will be snoring in 30 seconds…unless you don’t want to, I have a lot of other bedrooms.”

She says, I do...I sleep for 18 hours straight.

Night Five: Corridor of Death Revealed

The night air is tepid, an effervescent half moon shimmers. The scent of freshly cut grass hangs thick as we sit on her patio overlooking an exquisitely manicured golf course green. I’m beset, it couldn’t be a more beautiful evening and Lisette is absolutely stunning. Draped in a long black silk strapless gown her dangerous ruby lips are framed by ivory skin and ebony hair. She sits silent. Peering into infinity she is contemplative and I, completely captivated. I never want to leave here.

Lisette: “Do you know how many people were reported missing in the United States last year?”

Koz: “I have no idea, ten, twenty thousand?”

Lisette: “there were over 800,000 people reported missing last year, those were the reported missing, that’s 2300 people a DAY.” 
Koz: “That’s crazy I exclaim, they can’t all end up missing, some have to be found!”

Lisette: “Even if half that number are found it’s still almost half a million people and those are the reported missings, imagine how many go unreported, like prostitutes for example.”

Lisette drops the bomb. “The truth is that a portion of Missings in the U.S. are part of an international organ harvesting /human trafficking conspiracy. Orchestrated by a billion dollar Private Corporation in the primary business of harvesting and selling human organs, kidneys, livers, hearts, eyes, etc. to international and national buyers. Something of this scale just doesn’t happen under the government’s radar, do you understand what I am saying? The murdered prostitutes in the corridor of death are actually in fact an intentional ploy, a distraction to throw low level government and the local police off track, off track of the larger, more insidious picture. The truckers actually protect the girls, we are far more afraid of the “Parts Men” than any truckers. The number of missing girls is staggering, we loose one a week here, there are over 5000 truck stops, and if just a thousand truck stops loose a girl a week that’s over 52,000 girls a year. The National Center for Missing Adults, based in Phoenix, is consistently tracking about 48,000 "active cases.”

“And how do I know all this? Lisette adds, my mother wasn’t just a Voodoo priestess, she was The Voodoo Priestess. She worked closely with the Parts Men because she herself sold human organs but not for medical reasons. There is an entire industry that sells capsules made from dead babies and fetuses that are chopped into small pieces, dried on stoves and ground into powder.  If I told you how much the fresh heart of a 13 year old virgin white girl commands for use in ritualistic acts you wouldn’t believe me.”

I stand up, light a cigarette and start pacing.

“All this is happening right under our noses, she continues: This is a complex highly funded private corporate entity that works directly with government health care and meat packing industry. There are actually dozens of health clinics and meat packing facilities across the U.S processing organs and human remains. There are literally hundreds of unmarked Big Rig tractor trailers that are mobile operating rooms. People are abducted by the “Parts Men” all their organs removed and put in on board cryogenic vaults, the other remains are pre processed on board. And then everything is delivered within hours to either participating hospitals/clinics or meat processing plants. Organs are packaged and shipped while the remains are used for soap or fuel. The meat and bone meal is burned like coal. Like I said, my mother was too involved, so involved that she became one of the “Missing” because of what she knew.”

I’m speechless and can’t really absorb this, I feel sick. It’s as if someone told you that your house burnt down, your family is dead and you are guilty of the crime. To farfetched to believe but for some reason I believe Lisette, but then again I am under her spell and at this point would believe anything or do anything that she wanted me to.

“I want you to leave, right now. Lisette demands I like you Koz and you’ve just walked into a worst case scenario. You also could be the best chance tens of thousands of missings may have, either way, I will be with you but have to trust me, it’s not safe here.”

Lisette hands me an envelope, gives me a passionate kiss and tells me to leave now and not to open her letter until I’m in New Mexico. Once again I’m off into the darkness alone, only now, I’m not lonely. Though filled with fear and trepidation of vampire “Parts Men” lurking in every Big Rigs shadow I am possessed... by Lisette.

Night Six: Purcell Oklahoma to Mountianair New Mexico - 714 miles

Disclaimer: I in no way can substantiate any of the statements or inferences made here by any person/persons I am merely reporting information relayed to me.   

Special Thanks to Adaptiv Technologies for their Glow Rider Jacket 


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