The Dark – part 1
So a Christian and four witches walk into a house and perform a Catholic exorcism… Wait, did I mention that 2 of the witches are also Vampyres? Sounds like the start to an awful joke, don’t you think? And yet, my friends, this is exactly what happened a few weeks ago. Together they faced the unknown, dogged by hostile entities and even demons – and they prevailed.
I must humbly confess to being one of the four witches. A girl friend, who is my donor and also my business partner, was in serious trouble and we had to help. How we got to this point is hard to explain, and writing this article has helped me to set it all right in my own mind and has been of immense therapeutic value to me.
Thus it was that I spent the last two weeks of 2011 inextricably entangled in otherworldly affairs, along with some associates who helped us out of a pretty scary mess. It took a lot of risk, effort and commitment from us all, and from the beginning, I wanted to write an article about it… Only, looking back, it could become a book – so much happened.
When times are hard, they say, friends are few. Nothing could prove this saying truer than the events we few endured together. Demons, possession, ghosts, hostile invisible incorporeal entities… hauntings… terrifying, frightening things that go bump in the night and put flesh on our nightmares.
I know what you’re thinking. I was skeptical myself until that first week. It’s tempting to say that it took two elephants and some fancy language to succeed in this – but in truth, it was a coordinated effort to help a mutual friend, and it took four white witches and even a couple of Christians to do it.
I sat behind my PC a few days ago and decided that somehow I’m going to figure out how to turn all this into an article, and I planned to include some images… we weren’t idle with our blackberries after all. Amazing thing, modern technology – and the ironic and critical thing is, that without it, our friend would quite possibly not be with us today.
I wondered how exactly I was going to explain this, while retaining my reputation for reason, logic and a grounding in reality. I gave up. This is the story, this is what happened, and this is how it happened… Truthfully, I had to write it down to try to make sense of it all for myself, more than I really wanted to share it with the world, or anyone – or you.
And so, without delay, here follows the first installment of my account of the events of December 2011 – January 2012. This was the first (and hopefully last) exorcism I have been involved with – and was also coincidentally the very worst week of my life up to now.
My friend T and I got to know each other in September of 2011. We became friends and later, business partners in a small photography venture which we hoped to build into a thriving business over time. At the beginning of December, we were setting up a photographic studio at the large house she rented, from where she was also operating a successful spa and massage studio, when things began to turn a little surreal.
When I met her, she was living in a small but cosy house on a smallholding not too far from the main house, but the combined rental costs were too high and so she decided to move back into the big house to save costs. After all, there was plenty of room at the big house. However, we were not without concerns, as she had told me about the strange things which had happened there in the past. T had gradually become comfortable discussing these supernatural or paranormal matters with me, and as such I have known her as a person with psychic talents and who might be described as a medium.
I knew from experience that T could see entities, and could potentially also communicate with them. She told me there was one in my own spare room at home, which was hostile, at least to her – and protective of myself and my mom. I had my own suspicions about who that spirit might have been, but I had honestly never noticed its presence there before, although the room had become rather creepy and uncomfortable to be in, in recent times. One night in November, it had made its dislike of her plain – because it attacked her before my very eyes.
She cried in pain, and three tiny puncture wounds appeared on her shoulder, and she bled from them. Nervous and unsettled, she fled my home, to return cautiously a few days later. She avoided the spare room as much as possible after that, informing me that the entity appeared to be limited to that place.
T spoke of “blank spots” in her memory while in the big house over the past 2 years, and so she was never comfortable there. She and her former husband had lived there a few months, before moving out to the farm – but now she was going to live there again alone, and the prospect troubled her. I shared her concerns, but have to admit that at the time, did not consider any of these a serious threat to either of us.
In the run-up to late December 2011, T’s employees were all experiencing similar symptoms relating to nausea and bloating. It has been suggested that perhaps they were simply passing round some kind of tummy bug, but it has been pointed out that these symptoms only manifested while they were in the house. When they left, the symptoms abated – and when they came to work, they became ill. I know that many people feel that work makes them ill, but this was a rather literal interpretation of the situation. While at first not openly discussing the issues at hand, the employees clearly already knew supernatural events occurred at the house.
The kettle in the kitchen was a good example. It would apparently switch itself on for no apparent reason. T and the staff would find the kitchen cupboard doors opened every morning. Things were heard to go bump in the night around the house, sounds that could not be explained away by saying it was “the ground settling”, or just the expansion of this or that. Most strangely of all, there was a weird wind pattern inside the house, with wind shifting curtains and such in places where you wouldn’t expect it, and often with windows closed.
The downstairs bathroom had two separate basins and taps, and when one was opened, the other would open as well. Add to that, there were occasional heavy footsteps on the roof, despite nobody being visible up there. The bedroom upstairs had a clear view of the roof, and yes, it was a point to go and look.
In general, the house, although luxurious and large, having 6 bedrooms, 2 flatlets, a quadruple garage, a single garage, 2 lounges, swimming pool, kitchen, dining room and 2 bathrooms, gave the impression of being badly built, poorly maintained, and just generally uncomfortable to be in. There were “hotspots” in the house that appeared to be more active than others, for example, the downstairs bathroom, the kitchen, a part of the lounge, and one of the former bedrooms being used as a massage room.
One evening in early December, T observed what is called a “full body apparition” of an old woman in the kitchen, and tried to capture it with her phone camera. Nothing out of the ordinary appeared in the image. The old woman appeared to be stirring something on the stove, and other than looking up from its task occasionally, did not interact with anyone in the house. After a few hours, T decided to walk through it, just to see what would happen. There was no interaction or response, but the apparition vanished, and has never been seen at the house again.
One of the upstairs bedroom’s window burglar guards appeared to be unscrewing itself. T and the cleaning lady had found the bars lying on the bedroom floor a few mornings in a row, the screws having vanished. It was put back, the screws replaced – and it was found lying on the floor the next morning again. Weird.
With this information to serve as a background sketch, I now begin my own description of the events that occurred between 21 and27 December 2011.
December 21: Dramatics In The Dark
This was the day all hell started to break loose in the house. I finished work very early and my supposed “holiday” began. I went to the house to continue setting up the office for our joint photographic studio.
T and I were having difficulty deciding on specific details of how the business was going to operate, and so we discussed matters back and forth in her office for a while. In between, she was interrupted by her spa employees, who needed her attention on certain work matters. The conversation turned to strange events in the house, of the girls working there who were all getting mysteriously ill, and in particular about one of her close friends who worked for her, and who also rented the downstairs flatlet. She had been sick that day, and so T insisted she take a pain pill and lie down on her own bed upstairs. When she went up to check on her earlier, she said she saw a wisp of hair lying over her face move out of the way as though “someone” had brushed it carefully aside. She told me that some of the girls who occasionally rented the flat or slept in the house would tell of bruises in the thigh area, as though hands had tried to force their legs open in their sleep, and so she had suspected something was not right in the house. Following the advice I had given her earlier, she didn’t show any reaction, and went back downstairs. The reason I advised her thusly, was that entities sometimes “perform” for a reaction – and reacting might just encourage them.
At one point our discussion became rather personal, and so rather than continue talking in the office, she led me to one of the work rooms, where she closed the door and we sat on a massage bed to talk further. Our discussion led to talk about shielding and meditation, about which she admitted knowing nothing, and so I offered to help her learn. I asked her to meditate with me, and she agreed. We sat cross-legged facing each other on the hard bed, breathing deeply and meditating. I led her in a guided meditation. The room grew strangely cold around us, and I began to notice my body responding to the cold with goose-bumps. I saw bumps covering her arms as well. I suspected something was in the room with us. She opened her eyes wide, looked behind me, and then I knew.
Before I could say anything, she cried “There’s something behind you!” I looked, knowing I would not see anything – but I could feel its hands resting on my shoulders, where it was cold. I remained calm, and immediately cast a circle of protection around us. Despite this, it spoke through her – although at the time I was uncertain whether she had just been repeating its words to me, I later understood that it was actually speaking through her, as if she were a puppet.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“You’re not welcome here.” It said, not clarifying whether it meant myself, or all of us in the house. I assumed for the moment that I was addressing a departed spirit. In total honesty, I cannot recall everything said at this time, just the highlights – but it definitely made it clear it didn’t want me there.
“This is my house.”
“These people mean you no harm.” I said trying to get a feel for what I was dealing with, trying to see if it could be reasoned with.
It threatened her life at this point, saying that it would kill her by the end of the week.
“The dead may not harm the living.” I said, and demanded that it leave the house.
“No.” It said. I again commanded it to leave.
“There will be vengeance.” It replied ominously.
“I’m sure there will be.” I answered, “But leave anyway.”
T awoke after that, scared and jittery, confused. She didn’t remember a thing. She didn’t even remember seeing the entity behind me. She wouldn’t believe me when I questioned her about the event, consistently implying that I was deceiving her. I considered that she may have been play-acting, but at the same time I realized that I had felt the presence and the icy hands on my shoulders.
I decided that something had to be done, and quickly. Threats of vengeance from incorporeal entities are not to be taken lightly. In consultation with a more experienced witch of my acquaintance, we decided to cleanse the house immediately, starting with myself and T. This bold plan was to go spectacularly wrong.
T asked the employees to wait in a distant part of the house – which was pretty big, and I gathered herbs and salt and blessed a boline (ritual knife) and improvised a chop stick for a wand (kitchen witchcraft could do a lot worse). I filled a bowl with water, added the salt and herbs before two large candles. While I was in the kitchen preparing these things, T and I were talking things over. At the same time, the electric kettle began to boil. Was there really time for coffee?
The jug-kettle was a plastic one, and a very basic model. It worked from the plug switch on the wall, and would not turn off automatically. Also, it could not turn itself on automatically – and yet it started boiling, apparently of its own accord, as I had not seen anyone turn it on. T remarked about it, turned it off, and it stopped. We were still talking about the event, when it began boiling a second time. This time, I unplugged it – joking that we would see if it could plug itself in as well!
Next I added a small quantity of my own blood to the mixture to give it some extra oomph. The little spray bottle I had had a defective pump, so I would have to pour small quantities of the fluid around the house. I asked T to cleanse me with a burning roll of rosemary and thyme. The next step was to do the same for her and then to cast a circle, but when I began to cleanse T with the burning roll, she said tenderly “Hello boy” moving as if to embrace something. I stiffened. Suddenly, she weakened and sagged to the floor, her head lolling, limbs limp, eyes closed. When she spoke, I knew it wasn’t her. She spoke like a little child – and I now met face to face Silace, the little child spirit T had told me roamed the house, sometimes tugging at clothes of people in the kitchen. The little boy and I had a brief exchange about why he was there, what he wanted, who else was in the house etc. He said there was something dark and terrifying in the house with them. Then he said in a frightened little voice “He’s coming.”
“I’m waiting for my mommy.” He said. I informed him that his mommy was waiting for him on the other side and that he should go. When I insisted that he leave, he said “T is my mommy now.” I didn’t like that one bit, in fact it was downright creepy. I poured some of the salt and herb infused water over her head, and he said “You’re not very nice!” before leaving her.
We didn’t take the child as much of a threat, it was the other entity I was concerned about. Silace appeared afraid of it as well, and that made sense – at least to someone as inexperienced in these matters as I was then. After I explained everything afterwards to a very confused T, and did my best to comfort her, we went upstairs to check on the sleeping C. We woke her up, which took quite an effort. When she got up, her eyes were very red – blood-red – and she was not very responsive. This concerned us.
We ushered her into the shower, and got her changed. We were all hungry and the three of us went out to get some KFC takeout. T sent the other girls home. When we got back, we were about to enjoy our food, when C screamed for help in her flatlet. T arrived moments before me, and we found her standing petrified beside her bed, saying that there was no wind in her room but that everything was moving. Later, she told us her packet of take-out and her handbag had been moving around on her bed, apparently on their own. Spurred into action, we decided to get out of the house.
Outside, in the cool late afternoon air, we decided the hysterical C would be better off at her parent’s house for a few days. I had also had enough, and decided to evacuate all my property from the photographic studio while we waited for her mother to arrive, packing it all in my car while she sat in back. I wasn’t going to set up office under these conditions. I left only two chairs behind, on the principle that while at least some of my property was on the premises, I could not be denied access later, for whatever reason.
I left later that afternoon, T insisting that she would be “fine” between that time and when her friend R would come home from work. As a precaution, I set up a large candle on her bedside table, surrounded with salt and herbs for protection. During a protracted BBM chat, T later asked me to fetch R from work as she was tired and wanted to get some rest. It was while we were still chatting, just before9pmthat she said something was with her in her room, then she said “Help me”, and then nothing, and she didn’t answer. We lost contact completely. At this point I confess I still wondered whether I was being conned, but I decided to pick up R from work right away, and to head over there asap to see what was happening.
When we arrived, we found T lying across her bed. She was unresponsive, and seemed to be asleep. Her right upper arm was bleeding from little punctures very similar to the ones the entity at my home had inflicted on her. I took a picture of them – and noted with concern that they formed a cross shape. Had she done this herself? If so, where was the implement? Also, we saw she had drawn a message in the salt and rosemary in the circle around the candle on her bedside table. This was all very dramatic – but was it real?
We couldn’t find her phone, which she had been messaging me on. When we called the number, we could hear it ringing – but first from one side of the room, and then the other. It was weird – it sounded as if the source of the ringing was moving around the room. We eventually found it on the floor behind a little night stand in the corner.
R lay down beside T, talking to her, trying to wake her. I stood right beside the bed, close to them both. R suddenly reacted strangely, saying that the bed had moved. I had been touching the bed with one knee, and had not felt any movement. I hadn’t noticed anything unusual. Then she said it had moved again. Again, I had felt nothing. I argued, saying I had leaned against the mattress with one leg, and perhaps that was what she had felt. I demonstrated by pressing the mattress with my knee, and she denied that it had been similar. At that moment, I felt something I can only describe as a very strong magnetic field pass through my upper body from behind and out through the front. It was disorienting and strange, and it felt like the whole room had shifted around me. At that moment, we accepted that disembodied entities had just been passing through our bodies. It also vindicated T in my mind, because I had experienced this presence myself, and felt how powerful it was, and any thoughts of faking on her part were expunged from my thoughts.
When T finally came to some minutes later, she was terrified and confused. While we cleaned her wounds, she told us how she was taken up to the ceiling by two entities. At one point, while we were talking to her, R and I were both standing facing her. Suddenly, she just said “I’m coming.” and turned to go downstairs. Neither of us had heard anyone call, and the three of us were alone in the house together. We followed her down the stairs into the darkness, me being close behind her. She seemed unaware of us. She went directly down the dark passage and headed for the downstairs bathroom, a place she feared and loathed to be in. Going there – and in the total darkness seemed very out of character for her. She opened the door, and entered the dark bathroom. Not sure what to believe about what was happening, I decided to go along with it and see what would happen next. I’d had enough of the dramatics in the dark, and put the light on.
Immediately, she reacted as though she had just woken up. She didn’t know what she was doing there, how she had got there – and accused us of taking her down there! We took her back upstairs, where she explained that she had heard R calling her down to the bathroom – even though R had been standing right in front of her at the time. It took some time before she stopped arguing that we had been messing with her head and lying to her about us both being up in the bedroom with her all along. She maintained for several hours that it had been R who had called her.
I decided I could not leave either of them alone in the house, so I undertook to stay till at least 4am. My mom was not happy about that, as it meant she would be spending yet another night alone at home. Grumbling, I knew that while mom would be alone for another night, at least there was nothing threatening her life.
Lying on the bed, watching boring TV shows on T’s notebook, we noticed a damaged ceiling plank above the bed which seemed to have been jarred out of place by an impact, and wondered if that had been where she had met the ceiling. T could not recall, but she only knew that the damage was fresh – and that the entities had ripped the phone from her hands as she was swept up towards the far end of the room. She recounted, as though she could not believe it herself, how it had carried her out through the balcony door into the night sky and then back again. R and I looked at each other, realizing how far-fetched it sounded, but understanding what we had experienced and witnessed that night too, it slid clearly into perspective for both of us.
As T drifted off to an uneasy sleep between us, she spoke at length in a language neither of us could identify. Prompted by R, I recorded several audio clips of on my phone. It sounds something like a cross between Latin and Portuguese. At any rate, since the conclusion of this matter, this has not repeated.
It would be a lie to say that I was not afraid. I was – but would not yield, and I would not give in to the fear. I couldn’t, because I knew that’s what it wanted, and fear gives them power. No fear, no power. If they have no power, they are nothing, and have no influence over us. Without fear, we could only win.
To be continued…