The black magic of Osk Island refers to the mysterious and sinister practices that are said to take place on this remote island. Located in the vast Pacific Ocean, Osk Island is known for its dark history and supernatural occurrences. Legend has it that the island was once inhabited by a group of powerful sorcerers who practiced black magic to harness dark forces. These sorcerers were believed to have made pacts with evil entities and used their powers for malevolent purposes. The island itself has an eerie atmosphere, with dense forests shrouded in fog and ancient ruins scattered across its landscape. It is said that these ruins were once used as temples for conducting dark rituals and summoning otherworldly beings.
It sounds pretty convincing—and there's even some hard evidence to back it up.
His first novel, This Is Just Exactly Like You , was a finalist for the Flaherty-Dunnan prize from the Center for Fiction, a Best-of-the-Year pick from The Atlanta Journal Constitution and a SIBA Okra pick. Now, that s a pretty legit theory and modern-day discoveries on the island, many of which have actually been found on the The Curse of Oak Island series, back it up.
It is said that these ruins were once used as temples for conducting dark rituals and summoning otherworldly beings. Many stories surround the island, recounting sightings of ghostly apparitions and strange phenomena. Locals believe that the sorcerers' presence still lingers, manifesting in supernatural occurrences.
Beach Magic on the Carolina Coast
Salt water, seafood dinners, and nighttime walks along sparkling sand: When families return to cherished spots along the coast, memories grow with each passing summer.
My favorite picture of Tita, my wife, and The Toad, our oldest, is no real contest: It’s the one at Oak Island, three thin months into The Toad’s life. We’re down on the beach in the late evening, and she’s looking back into the camera, smiling, sunglasses on, hair hooked behind one ear. She’s radiant, if I might use a word like that — she looks every bit the 1970s movie star, time-traveled directly into 2010. She’s wearing The Toad in a red wrap, and he’s smashed into her chest, asleep in a huge, floppy, zebra-striped hat. The light is that impossible beach sunset light. Waves break in the background.
This is our first trip with him. We’ve bought a sun-blocking baby tent — the Toad Tent — and he’s spent the afternoon lying on his back on the sand, fighting his muslin swaddle, hollering happily at the wind flapping the yellow walls. This is the night we’ve eaten crab cakes from Haag and Sons, the night we’ve worked our way down from high alert to medium, the night we see volunteers helping hatchling turtles make their way from nest to sea. This is our first after-dinner beach walk with him, our first as a family. This is also the first time he’ll sleep through the night, and the next morning is the morning we’ll wake up foggy and confused: Did we sleep through the night? Did we really see baby sea turtles? Where are we? What happened?
This is not about sleep, however. This is about putting the dishes in the sink each night, sliding closed the condo’s glass door, rolling your jeans up to your knees, and — almost no matter what — walking on the beach after dinner.
They’re both old enough now — the Toad and his brother, The Wee — to walk like my brothers and I did, kids trailing behind the grown-ups in full darkness, a feeling that you’ve been let in on some corner of the adult world. Summer stars wheel overhead by the millions. There are tide pools to kick your feet through. And last summer, in those tide pools, on the wilder south end of Topsail Island: lights. Mamá! Daddy! Their voices were the sound of pure wonder, and who could blame them? The beach was glowing — or their footprints were, anyway, and the pools where they kicked at them. What is it? Phosphorescence, I told them, already wrong, but the next part was true: tiny lit-up creatures in the water. Kind of like fireflies, I said. They were laughing, awestruck, saying, Look! Look! and dragging long, shining streaks in the sand with their toes.
Bedtime’s a looser construct at the beach, and the line between real and imagined is, too: The water can thrum blue. I’ve got pictures of The Toad turning cartwheels after an evening storm, pictures of The Wee under a pier with his grandmother, and one dim, fabulous shot of the boys wearing shorts and hoodies, holding hands, walking off into the gloaming — but no pictures of that bioluminescent night. It was too dark, or I hadn’t brought the big camera down, or I didn’t have my phone with me — or maybe we were just walking, not worried about anything other than that. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe some things you just have to remember.
My wife and I are carrying on the traditions that my parents taught me: The boys get Popsicles, get to run along the water’s edge in their pajama pants and oversize T-shirts, get to range as far afield as they like. Now, they always, always check to see if the beach is glowing. Most nights, it isn’t. Most nights, it’s just the regular magic of the ocean. A few times since then, though, the blue lights have returned — sometimes in the breakers, sometimes just on the beach. Always, they holler at us: Look! Look! Do we see, they want to know. We do, we tell them. We see you. They laugh and shout and run ahead, shadows long in the moonlight. Tita takes my hand. We walk along, wait for the boys to circle back our way. We wait for the impossible to happen once more.
This story was published on Jul 29, 2019
Drew Perry
Perry teaches writing at Elon University. His first novel, This Is Just Exactly Like You, was a finalist for the Flaherty-Dunnan prize from the Center for Fiction, a Best-of-the-Year pick from The Atlanta Journal Constitution and a SIBA Okra pick. His second, Kids These Days, was an Amazon Best-of-the-Month pick and was named to Kirkus Reviews 'Winter's Best Bets' and 'Books So Funny You're Guaranteed to Laugh' lists.
Now, there’s endless theories to what type of treasure could be on the island—and how it got there. But The William Phips Theory has many convinced, with hard evidence supporting the claim. The theory was recently broken down by writer and history buff Hammerson Peters on his YouTube channel. The video sources much of its information from the book Oak Island and Its Lost Treasure, which first presented the convincing conspiracy.
Visitors have reported hearing disembodied voices, witnessing objects levitate, and experiencing inexplicable feelings of dread. The black magic of Osk Island is not confined to its physical realm. It is believed that the sorcerers' spells and curses continue to affect those who dare to tread on the island. Visitors have reported falling ill, experiencing misfortune, and even meeting untimely deaths after visiting Osk Island. Despite its daunting reputation, there are those who seek out the black magic of Osk Island. Some are thrill-seekers, looking for an adrenaline rush in exploring the mysteries of the island. Others are paranormal investigators, hoping to document and unravel the supernatural occurrences that surround the island. However, it is crucial to approach Osk Island with caution, as it is a place shrouded in darkness. The black magic practices that allegedly took place there should not be taken lightly. Anyone venturing to Osk Island should be prepared for the potential consequences and should respect the island's history and the powers that may still reside there. In conclusion, the black magic of Osk Island is an intriguing and eerie topic that has captivated the imagination of many. Whether it is purely fictional or grounded in truth, the stories and legends surrounding the island continue to fascinate and intrigue those who are drawn to the occult and supernatural..
Reviews for "Unmasking the Black Magic Masters of Osk Island"
- Jane Doe - 2 stars - I was really excited to read "The black magic of osk island" as I love mysteries and thrillers, but I was extremely disappointed. The plot was convoluted and confusing, and the characters felt flat and underdeveloped. The writing style was also not engaging, and I found myself struggling to stay interested. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone looking for a gripping, well-written mystery.
- John Smith - 1 star - This book was a complete waste of time. The story was filled with clichés and predictable twists. The dialogue was cringe-worthy and unrealistic, and I couldn't connect with any of the characters. The pacing was also way off, with unnecessary and lengthy descriptions that added nothing to the plot. I was hoping for an intriguing and captivating read, but "The black magic of osk island" fell short in every aspect.
- Emma Johnson - 2 stars - I have to admit, I was intrigued by the concept of "The black magic of osk island", but the execution left much to be desired. The writing felt amateurish, with awkward phrasing and repetitive sentences. The plot lacked originality and seemed to rely on tired tropes. The ending was unsatisfying, leaving loose ends and unanswered questions. Overall, I was disappointed with this book and wouldn't recommend it to others.