The Dark – part 2
Irritation – the feeling brought about when discussing supernatural events with small-minded people who cannot think past mental blocks rolled in the way by their inaccurate religious belief that people who perceive paranormal phenomena are “satanists” – or that possessing such skills is a manifestation of “evil”.
Most ironic of all, who do they turn to when things go bump in the night and the good reverend hitches up his skirts and runs away hell for leather? The witches of course.
In part 1 of this article, I began to recount how I and some friends and acquaintances became involved in a desperate attempt to save the life of our mutual friend trapped at the center of this disturbing paranormal activity. The story continues below.
December 22: Code Of Darkness
It was a heck of a night. I dared not fall asleep, but T and R drifted off beside me. Around us, in the dark the house settled. Or so I might have thought, except for the fact that the things going bump in the night the way these things were, it was not ordinary at all. The house is concrete and brick, with no wood floors, save for the solitary upstairs bedroom floor, which we were in. The way the bed was situated, right against the railing at the edge of the stairwell, we could hear very clearly every sound below. Every so often, something clicked or knocked downstairs, either in the kitchen or the passage. At 3am the activity would reportedly intensify – but more so, I was told – when I was not at the house.
As I lay on the bed beside T and R, I wondered what I would tell my colleagues at work when they asked me what I had done during my increasingly theoretical holiday. It brought a grin to my lips, for I was for all intents and purposes, right inside a haunted house. I considered very strongly that had I a choice in the matter, I would prefer the house burned and broken down so that not one stone lay upon another, and salt sewn in the earth. But, as T pointed out, the fault was not with the house, it was with the entity which was stalking her.
I stayed with her until 4am, when I judged it to be safe to leave them for the remainder of the night – and to return home to an irritated and somewhat neglected mother who was still lying awake – or should that be lying in wait?
After a few short hours sleep in the comfort of my own bed, I awoke with a sharp pain in my left side which hampered my breathing severely. I faced a return to the house I had grown to hate with a passion. But first, I had to meet D, a friend who was visiting fromAmerica. I considered telling her about all this, but it just seemed too weird to contemplate. I have different kinds of friends, those who understand the normal mundane things in life, and those who know and accept that there is more to the world around us than the mundane. I decided to take the plunge and to confide in her about everything. “So, do you know anything about the paranormal?” I asked half jokingly. I was very surprised to learn that she did.
The pain in my side was very strange and had no explanation to it – and after a brief conversation, my friend tried to remove the pain using energy work, but instead, she only drew it into herself and found herself afflicted with the same pain in exactly the same location. Saying “oops” would have been an understatement. She described the feeling of trying to remove it from me as “this massive ropey thing that wouldn’t move”. Needless to say, we were now both in pain. I dare not mention to D that I thought the reason I had been inflicted with this pain so easily was because I had fed from T just a few days before, and that her essence was within me, essentially giving the entity a back door key inside my shields.
She decided to help me by looking into the situation, and to provide what help she could. We went up to the house with me, and inside to meet with T, who was acting completely unlike the T I knew. She was speaking in an unnatural “bouncy” put-on voice and full of the pretense that everything was perfectly fine. Upon entering, some of her employees asked me if I had been there earlier that day, as they had heard me entering through the front entrance, laughing and walking. I hadn’t been there before that day.
Sitting down with D, T proceeded to tell her that there was an object in her house that some traveler had given her that she needed to get rid of as it was threatening her. D knew very well that there was no such thing in her home, as she was sensitive to such energies. When we discussed the matter later as I drove her to her lodgings, we agreed rather, that this was T’s way of trying to communicate in code around the entity – and that the object was actually somewhere in HER house, not D’s.
Just as we were leaving, a new girl arrived for a job interview for a vacancy with T, and as she walked in, wearing a cross around her neck – seeing her for the very first time, T looked at her, and instead of just saying “hello”, said “You’re a pagan.” The girl whose name was S, was clearly taken aback, and admitted that the cross had been a family gift, and that yes, she was pagan and a white witch. As D and I left, S and T had a lengthy in-depth talk, as S perceived that there was something afoot.
Meanwhile, D and I discussed what she had learned of the house from her companion spirits while there. She was certain there were at least two objects in the house, acting as “anchors” for these hostile entities. One was in the garden, buried, she said – and the other in a kitchen cupboard, in a place which she described to me so well that when I returned, I practically walked right up to the cupboard, opened it, and without rummaging too much, located it almost directly.
By the time I returned to the house after dropping D off at the guest house, T had gone out to run some errands. S and I discussed the matter, and I filled her in on all the most recent events. She was surprised when I handed her the small suspicious parcel, which turned out to be some unidentified black sludge laced with human hair and bits of bone wrapped in a plastic bread packet. It had been hidden in a bundle of newspaper at the back of a disused cupboard which no-one at the house had used for a long time. I was certain this was it – and S took one look and confirmed it. Muti.
Muti is local African black magic, and such items are used in transferring curses and bad luck and hostile spirits on people. This led me to question how it got there. Was it a former employee? A current employee? I was told the staff had moved all the stuff round the kitchen because the door on that cupboard was dodgy and often stuck. So the item had been placed some time before – weeks? Months? Years? The business had been there all of 2 years. Had it been moved with the house belongings from the previous locale? Was there anyone who worked there now who had something against T? When last were the kitchen cupboards cleaned or repacked?
Nobody could name any recent employees who they could suspect of planting such a thing, or in having a motive to do so. S and I discussed the past few days events. I told her about the encounter in the first massage room, and described the subsequent encounter with Silace in the kitchen. She identified Silace, the little boy that has been appearing more than any of the other apparitions and who came across as so scared – as the chief entity in the house. She said Silace was a Greek name. The child was not a sweet innocent or harmless spirit at all – but a disguise for the most powerful of the 3 entities present at the house, and was very, very dangerous. We were to learn only later HOW dangerous.
We decided to salt the house while it was quiet late afternoon, and the rest of the staff were away. This was a big place, and so I called my young friend Orfeo over, and as soon as the place closed for the day, we set about the task. We salted every doorway, every window sill, every corner. We salted the corners of the roof outside also, and we even threw salt through each manhole in the ceilings, counting five around the house. One particular manhole drew attention when we threw salt through it. The footsteps we often heard on the roof plates came stomping rushing along right on cue, and we knew we were getting its attention.
While the three of us were busy salting, S was also talking to it, demanding the entity show itself – and most unexpectedly, it attacked her physically in the kitchen. The thing hit her so hard that she spat blood on the floor. I took a picture of the blood on the kitchen tiles. (You can judge scale by my shoe at bottom right.)
S created a circle on the concrete outside the kitchen, and placed the muti item in it, surrounded by angel symbols. The object was wrapped in tin foil, doused with cooking oil and set alight as part of the ritual. Myself and Orfeo formed part of the circle, and I remember the symbol I chose to stand by was that of the archangel Michael. The fire destroyed the power of the object, and the entity associated with it was removed from the equation. It was a small victory, but a victory none the less. S told us that the main entity, Silace, was angry with us. T was not safe yet, but I was determined that we would get rid of the other two as well.
According to S, the entity we had banished was the one that was making the girls on the premises sick, including causing the pain in my side, so I estimated that I should be better soon. This was proved correct within the next few hours, as the pain diminished incrementally. One was down, two more to go. The other two entities seemed to be hiding for now.
Apparently there were also two more items on the property, and we undertook to dig for the one in the front garden the next day. Because we knew T was not entirely herself, Orfeo, S and I undertook to keep some information between us, in order to keep an advantage over the entity we were fighting.
T was still not herself, and I warned some of the employees who were already growing suspicious of the strange events to be careful of her for now. Not of her, specifically, but of what was in her.
She had some other friends visiting there this night, and R would be home again after 9pm. R supposedly also saw or picked up on these things in the house, and had reportedly prayed in the flatlet being rented by another friend on the ground floor. I was concerned, as I would not be there that night. I knew that we needed to keep eye on her, it had given her to the end of that week to live. There was just so much to take in, and do and think through, and so little time in each 24 hour period – so laughingly called a “day” – to do it. I knew I had to equip myself for what could be coming – which might well be anything.
D undertook to teach me to enhance my poor shielding technique, and also offered to leave some of her “gang” – her troupe of accompanying spirits who journey with her, to help guard T. She chose to leave two guardians, which she described as two young dragons who had belonged to her wife who had died two years previously. I recall that T was very uncomfortable when I mentioned to her the bodyguards that she had very kindly left with her. I can never thank D enough for all her help and kindness.
Later that night, when I had gone home, argued with my mom about spending so much of my theoretical holiday away from home, and completed my nightly chores of feeding the dog and washing the dishes, I decided to take that cleansing saltwater and rosemary bath. It was totally silent, with mom already in bed for the night. The horrible pain in my side already felt somewhat better. My body felt strange though, like I had a fever, and as the night wore on, I shivered more and more.
I was still in some pain, and on top of everything else, I worried something may have followed me home. I was to be proven correct in that we were not alone. Still in the bath, I had one of those “chill” experiences, along with mysterious cold breezes in the bathroom with closed windows, well out of the way of any doors. I pretended to ignore the events at home, as I wasn’t sure whether it was an outsider from the other house, or the protective but dark and terrifying entity T had told me resided there. Mom was asleep, and the house was eerily quiet. Oh well, at least I had my cat for company.
I hadn’t slept with my bedroom light on for many years, and this night I did – with soft music playing to soothe my thoughts. I awoke several times in the early hours – and each time, I spotted something dark and orb-like hovering in the space beside my bed, just like the pupil of an eye – and as soon as my eyes snapped open, it promptly vanished from sight, as though it were trying not to be seen by me. But I saw it – and I know what I saw – I saw it clearly, in the moments between sleep and being awake, which is when I can really see such things.
D had consulted with her mentor back home, and advised me via email that she thought the objects concealed at the house were a wild goose chase. “The problem isn’t in the objects,” She said, “It is in your friend. She has had this difficulty all her life. The objects are somewhat new. Therefore and QED, it is not the objects. The objects are just a little diversionary tactic designed to sap your energy. Effective at that, useless at solving the problem.” I concurred, destroying the objects would take time, and at the end of the exercise, there would still be something attached to T. The point was to remove T from the equation, and so that now became my focus.
December 23: Into The Darkness
I finally printed out the Eyes of Heaven ritual I received from a friend and used it in the morning. Back at T’s house, I went digging around the base of the banana tree in the front garden to see if I could find the second object. This proved to be relatively futile, as the ground was so rocky all I found was old bricks and lumps of concrete under the sand. That, and perhaps most spooky of all, scattered small children’s toys. There were cap rings from toy cap guns, pokemon disks, beads and other tiny trinkets.
The pain in my side was still there, but no longer worsening, nor acting up more when I was at or in the house. Despite that improvement, I was fairly sure I needed cleansing too. And a better shielding technique.
T behaved strangely this day too. It was beginning to get difficult to tell who we were dealing with at any particular moment. She took an employee aside to tell them how she didn’t trust one or more of us trying to help her, even me. She did this with several of the girls, which led us to conclude that the entity was trying to weaken us by sowing mistrust. What she (and it) didn’t know was, they came to report this fact back to us, as they could tell something was not right with her, and we had taken a very few of them into our confidence.
One of them helped us to search the remaining kitchen cupboards to look for more muti items, and although some suspicious items were found, fortunately no more muti was found.
T kept insisting that she was “fine”, despite “blacking out” constantly and not remembering things she had said or done in front of witnesses. She spoke in an unnatural bouncy and airy blonde voice and behaved entirely like a different person. At times she spoke like the child, Silace – even while being ostensibly “normal” T. At times, when we were alone, she would vanish altogether and the entity would speak to me through her. For some reason, it revealed itself and spoke to me more than any of the others. It said that T was his, and that she would be dead within the week. She was in danger – this thing had said it wanted her dead. I handled it pretty well, I think. I rebuffed it, not allowing it to frighten me, or to intimidate me. Surprisingly I managed to come up with a snide comment or come-back for everything it said, which it didn’t seem to like much.
While I was alone with her in the open plan lounge, she was setting up her notebook at the sofa, and I think to impress me, she reached out and adjusted the volume of the cd-player with a wave of one hand, to make it louder. I captured this event on video on my phone, and was careful to note the absence of any remote control in her vicinity. Nobody else was present to see this. As I thought, this was intended to impress or intimidate me. Instead of stroking the ego that performed this remarkable task, I challenged it to make it louder, or to change the track. Not T just smiled and sat down on the sofa to cheerfully write farewell letters to T’s friends on the notebook. I went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of salt and cast a salt circle around the sofa on the tile floor.
S walked into the room just as I was finishing the circle, and asked me what was wrong. I explained it to her, and she immediately began questioning T about it. Not T just ignored her, and then tried to get up and leave the circle, but behaved as if she could not cross the salt line. Then she got angry, exclaimed that this was “my house” and that she was going to “show them“. She stepped through the circle, and headed up to her room, with me in pursuit.
What she intended to “show” is still unclear, as she didn’t really do anything much after that, just sit with her PC and type letters. By this time, I had to leave the house and head for home again, to avoid the wrath of my mother. S promised she would cleanse the house that afternoon or the next morning, work allowing. As I was leaving, T walked me out, handbag over her shoulder – even though I had got her to agree to remain in the house where her friends could keep an eye on her. She laughed and said she was a big girl and she was going to the shop. This aroused my suspicion as she had just returned from the shops with bags of snacks and drinks for everyone – and then she couldn’t explain what it was she was going to get. I walked her back inside and asked S and C to keep eyes on her again – and hoping that they would, I left.
R and I stayed in contact via sms and phone call that evening, and she kept an eye on T, making sure she didn’t leave the house alone. Exhausted, I settled down for another uneasy night, with the light and music on. Little did I know how little sleep or rest I was going to have that night.
To be continued…