I let my mind wander, taking a break from it all, as I absentmindedly looked out the window towards the mountains. I needed to see something pretty, something peaceful. Clouds were rolling in. I watched them billow across the clear blue sky. Slowly, lazily at first, then faster and faster the clouds came, roiling into a boil. It became alarming. They churned towards the window, tumbling at me in a mad heat.
A wind blew into the room, slowly rising to a gust, then to a fierce howl. Angrily picking up pieces of paper and throwing them, the wind swirled around me, taunting. This was no ordinary gust of wind that would blow in and die down, or one that would just stream through on its way to someplace else. This wind had a purpose, a mind. What was this? It felt threatening.
It swirled faster and faster, picking up dust, debris, and papers, giving itself form until it was a confusing, terrifying whirlwind speeding all around me. Papers flapped, rattled, and snapped at my face. At first I had watched in awe, then disbelief, now in fear. My skin prickled. The hairs on my arms and neck stood straight up in sheer terror. Something I could feel but couldn’t see was inside that whirling mass.
It was personal in tone and it wasn’t stopping. Somehow I remembered I could, and therefore would, escape. I ran for the door. Grasping the knob I turned and pulled, expecting relief. The door didn’t budge. There was no lock, just a regular doorknob— logically it should have opened. I turned it again, pulling harder. Harder and harder I pulled at the door. The door remained unnaturally solid, unmoving, not even flinching. I banged my fist against it, kicking it—still it didn’t move. I was panicking at the thought and reality of being trapped. The whirlwind behind me grew stronger.
Terrified, I started screaming. I was screaming for all I was worth and banging furiously on the door. I felt it move. The knob turned on its own. Then the door burst open with ease into the room. My mother’s worried face behind it.
“What’s wron …” She stopped speaking as soon as she saw it—the angry swirling mass behind me. Her eyes and mouth flew open. Slowly, quietly, she formed the words, “What is that?”
“I don’t know! But we’re getting out of here!” I grabbed her hand, forcing her down the stairs with me. We didn’t stop running until we reached the curb of the street.
Like dazed birds hitting a window, we stood trying to grasp what had just happened. “What was that?” she asked again.
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” I kept repeating as if repetition would somehow make it clear. “We need to get away from here.” That was all I knew.
The warm coffee at the coffee shop we sat in helped soothe us. Talking it over, we were as frightened and confused as before. There were no answers for what had just happened. It defied any rational explanation. All I knew was that something was in that house now, something angry. Whatever this thing was, it hated us, hated us for disturbing it and Ilene, its prey. It was evil, and I feared it. We didn’t go back to the house for the rest of the day.
Somehow we found the courage to go back the next day and continue on with our work for the days to come. We cleaned and fixed the house up until there was no more time. Ilene was coming home that day.
When she arrived at my uncle’s apartment, she eyed me suspiciously. “Why are you here?”
The people in the room scattered, anticipating the storm. I sucked up my courage and met her gaze head-on, “We’ve come to help you. We’ve cleaned your house.”
I couldn’t keep track of all the emotions that raced across her face, until she settled upon the one she wanted to use. It was hurt.
After all the incriminations of “How could you? Why would you do this to me? What have you done?” were played out, I explained why. She knew. She understood, but she was angry—angry and embarrassed—yet unsure how to play her hand.
In walking-on-eggshells mode, we took her over to the house. She walked through it with all of us, hesitant, unsure, yet in wonder. Amazed at the change and what had been done, she was awed. I saw genuine thankfulness in her eyes, and at times in her voice, as she commented on the work we had done. She knew it hadn’t been easy and that it had been done to benefit her, not to hurt her. Still, she was overwhelmed, unsure what to do, or feel.
Ilene stayed at Keith’s apartment, along with the rest of us—her daughters, mom, and me. It was a normal night—dinner, some TV, and relaxing. I hadn’t had a chance to talk with her daughters about what was to happen next. I discretely gathered them into a bedroom to talk. We were going to stage an intervention for Ilene and confront her with the truth of her alcoholism. We wanted her to see we loved her, and wanted her to live the best life she could. However, in order to do that, she had to give up the alcohol. They agreed and the plan was set.
Ilene however, had been listening at the door, which none of us realized until later. In the few moments her daughters and I had been talking, she had gotten into the one bottle of whisky Keith kept in his apartment, as a reminder of his former life.
She was opening a package as I sat down next to her at the table. She grabbed the knife she had been using and held it up at me menacingly. Threatened, I stiffened, waiting on instinct. “Want to spend the night with me at my house?” she asked, coolly eyeing me.
Staying with her, at her house was not something I wanted to do, ever. I made some polite excuse as to why I didn’t want to stay there that night, in case I was misreading her. However, she knew why, and sensed I knew too. We were talking about the darkness in her house, even though it didn’t have a name. Slowly she began working herself into a rage, working toward her shrieking crescendo. Screaming, blind with rage, she demanded to go home. There was no negotiating with her. She was a ranting banshee until someone agreed to take her back home.
Over the next several days she raged in a drunken furor. We checked in on her, as she would let us; the few times she’d answer the phone. We’d been told at the alcoholic intervention training that unless she was in danger of hurting herself or someone else, there legally wasn’t anything we could do. We didn’t have the authority to have her committed. Keith and her daughters, who did have the authority, were too afraid of her, and refused to do what needed to be done.
Finally, calling her bluff, mom and I went over and demanded she let us in. We gave her the Easter basket full of money we’d left earlier by the back door in a failed attempt to entice her out. The money she liked. She didn’t like our talk, and hurled a toaster at me, threatening both mom and myself. She was not going to stop, even if it meant her death; this was the way she wanted it, to drink herself to death. She made that very clear.
We gave her family the information we had collected from the hospital on getting her help, knowing, sadly, they would never use it, although they assured us they would. I knew while boarding the plane for home that it was the last time I would see my aunt alive. And it was—she died three years later.
Several weeks passed after I had gotten home from Ilene’s house. The rest of the family and I had discussed what, if anything, could be done to help her. She needed to be committed until she could dry out and go through the program at the hospital, if anyone wanted to save her life. Sadly, those that did want to help didn’t have the power to make her.
Asleep in my bed, something was bothering me, troubling me awake. I heard a voice in my head quite plainly say, “Get up, get up now! It’s here!” the voice was urgent. I was fully awake in a second. That same feeling of absolute terror I had felt in Ilene’s house was with me again, here, in my house. It was here! I felt “it.” The hairs on my body did too. Evil and angry, it was here. It had hunted me down and found me, tracking me across the country after several weeks. Shattering the illusion of the safety of my home. It had come for me. Seeking revenge, it waited in the dark hallway, seething. My heart pounded in fear.
I heard footsteps. It was moving. Coming closer towards me; panic welled up in me until I felt I would burst. I couldn’t fight this thing
physically, I knew that. It wasn’t of this world. I did the only thing I could do to protect myself; I prayed. Through my fear, I had somehow remembered what my grandmother had told me long ago. Evil spirits or demons had no power over you when you prayed and commanded them to leave in God’s name. They were compelled by God’s power to leave.
Over and over again I said the words in my head, “In the name of God, I command you to leave!” I said it with all the force of my being. I felt the heat of my conviction flow outward from me to the entity. Spiritual warfare, battling something I couldn’t see with prayer.
In time, when I was brave enough to let down my defense, I sensed it was gone. The hair on my neck and arms was no longer standing up straight. The prickly feeling was gone. The terror was gone. It was gone.
In my era, one did not talk about the supernatural, the paranormal, much less demons or evil spirits. Those things were considered the ideas of a childish, immature mind. Such things didn’t exist in the modern world. We were far too sophisticated to believe in old wives’ tales like that. Anyone who did take such things seriously obviously had something wrong with them and needed to see a psychiatrist, perhaps on an in-patient basis.
I knew what I had experienced was real in every sense of the word, but there was no way an unbelieving world would ever acknowledge that. I kept it to myself for many years.
[contents]
EPILOGUE
I hope this book enables individuals to find the assistance and guidance they are seeking. I could have written a book that idolized my efforts and only mentioned my successful cases; however, I felt it was important to mention my failures as well. You cannot save everyone, but you can help many—especially yourself.
It is not necessary to work through some ordained or holy individual—God will simply work through you if you invite Spirit into your life and heart. Great Spirit is a part of all of us—being His creations—and you have a closer connection than you might have realized. Speak to Him from your heart as if you were talking with your best friend, and ask for help when you need it. The help you request may not come in the form or timing that you expected, but you will always be provided with what you need.
Remember that there is a lesson in everything and you must constantly strive to see the big picture: our objective here on earth is to help, love, accept, and respect others. To treat this earth and its creatures with the same dignity, to go out of our way to lend a helping hand, and to spread love and positivity to others. What you put into this world is what you will receive. If we work together in such a manner, the world will change for the better. And perhaps the evil in this world will recede into the cracks and depths once more.
Some people are faced with a more difficult life path than others, and dealing with the demonic is no small feat. You must remain strong in your faith and convictions, and to work as a team with your loved ones and family members residing in the home. If you are suffering from alcoholism, substance abuse, depression, anxiety, and other troubling habits, ask God to give you the strength needed to make the changes that will improve your life. Nothing good comes from these destructive habits. The demonic love to influence you through these behaviors and participating in them gives them a foothold on your spirit and life. Stay strong.
Eat fresh and healthy foods, exercise, spend time bonding with your loved ones and family, start a garden, volunteer, or perform small acts of kindness. Remove yourself of anyone that harms you, makes you feel bad about yourself, or drains you of your energy. There are people in this world who will try to drag you down with them, but rise above their influence and surround yourself with loving and warm individuals. Keep your home and life clean. They say “cleanliness is next to Godliness.” I feel this is ironically true. Clean, healthy, and functioning homes are not bogged down with negativity that attracts the demonic. Things that you do not appreciate will be taken from your life, so take pride in your home; take care of your belongings and order will follow.
Be grateful. It’s hard in our industrialized world not to worry about money, get stressed over things in our daily lives and illnesses, but be grateful. Gratitude is one of the emotions that will bring you closest to God. Instead of focusing on the negative and always seeing “what is wrong,” change your mindset and begin to open your eyes to all the blessings we have in our lives. Each day is a gift. Use it wisely. Will you use this gift to help others or to hurt others? Every action, every conversation, every gesture … these all effect the people around us whether we are conscious of it or not. Use that amazing ability to affect others, and put light into their lives. You will see the darkness leave your own life. Everything is cyclical; everything is connected, including ourselves. Utilize it for good and to help the world we live in.
For the paranormal investigators reading this book, not all clients are ready to let go of their bad habits (drinking, drug abuse, etc.), but you can help numerous people by performing house blessings and providing counseling. Do not investigate the unknown world for the sole purpose of gathering evidence and experiencing thrills. Your objective should be to help people and families—a much higher and nobler pursuit. Be very specific in the individuals you choose to associate and work with, make sure you are on the same page and share the same motives: to help others. Protect yourselves. The more you investigate, the more likely you will encounter the demonic. Never put yourself or others in danger.
I hope this book was enlightening. Aside from the scary stories, I hope readers saw the beauty in that the clients were able to claim back their homes and return to their lives. Anyone can do it—it just takes strength, courage, faith, love, and God’s power. I wish the best for all my readers. Although this world is surrounded by darkness and trying times, look further and you will see the bounty of good. May you see the light against the dark, and may you live blessed lives.
[contents]
APPENDIX A
WARFARE PRAYER
Note: As stated previously, readers are welcome to substitute “God” with their preferred name for a Higher Power.
Heavenly spirit, I bow in worship and praise before you. I cover myself with the white light and protection of God. I claim the protection of the light for my family, my finances, my home, my spirit, soul, and body. I surrender myself completely in every area of my life to you. I take a stand against all the workings of darkness and negativity that would try to hinder me and my family from best serving you. I address myself only to the true and living God who has all power and control over everything. In the name of the Lord, I command you, darkness and all evils, to leave my presence. I plead the love of our Lord.
Furthermore, in my own life today, I destroy and tear down all the strongholds of the darkness and negativity against my mind. I surrender my mind to you, blessed Holy Spirit. I affirm, heavenly Father, that you have not given me the spirit of fear but of power, and of love and of a sound mind. Therefore, I resist the spirit of fear in the name of the Lord, the Living God.
I refuse to doubt and refuse to worry because I have the authority and power over all; the power of the enemy and nothing will hurt me. I claim complete and absolute victory over the forces of darkness in the name of God, and I bind the evil and command it to let loose of my peace, joy, prosperity, and every member of my family for the glory of God and by faith I call it done.
I break and smash the strongholds that evil formed against my emotions today. I give my body to you, Lord, realizing that I am the temple of the Holy Spirit. Again, I cover myself with the white light and protection of God. I pray that the Holy Spirit would bring all the work of his mightiness into my life today. I surrender my life and possessions to you. I refuse to fear, worry, or to be discouraged in the name of God. I will not hate, envy, or show any type of bitterness towards my brothers, sisters, or my enemies. I will love them with the love God shed abroad in my heart by the Holy Spirit.
Open my eyes and show me the areas of my life that
did not please you. Give me strength, grace, and wisdom to remove any sin or weight that would prevent our close fellowship. Work in me to cleanse me from all ground that would give evil a foothold against me. I claim in every way the victory of the Lord over all satanic forces in my life. I pray in the name of the Great Spirit and Heavenly Father with thanksgiving and I welcome all the ministry of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
[contents]
APPENDIX B
PRAYER TO ST. MICHAEL
THE ARCHANGEL
Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the malice and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.
[contents]
APPENDIX C
PREPARING TO
CAST OUT A DEMON
Samantha Harris, M.P.R.A., and the publishers are not responsible for the private cleansings of readers and those who read and use this book. Please use the following cleansing method at your own discretion or seek the help of a professional.
Removing a demonic entity from your home may seem terrifying or impossible, but it’s not. You must remain positive and not fearful; demons feed off of fear and negative energy. Although we recommend recruiting the help of a minister, spiritual healer, or investigative group that performs cleansings for severe cases, it is possible to remove the entity yourself and with your family. God has given you this power.
Fighting Malevolent Spirits: A Demonologist's Darkest Encounters Page 16