The Demonologist: The Extraordinary Career of Ed and Lorraine Warren

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The Demonologist: The Extraordinary Career of Ed and Lorraine Warren Page 5

by Brittle, Gerald


  "Why did she stay behind in spirit form? Because the final thing on her mind was to get home: and that’s where she went, but as a spirit. Soon after the accident, unusual movements began to occur in the house. After a few months, it became apparent that the source of the activity was the mother’s spirit I say apparent because the more sensitive of the children saw her in a semi-materialized state, watering plants, straightening the beds, closing cupboard doors; in the middle of the night when it was cold, she’d shut the windows—things like that. In her new state of awareness, this woman was totally unaware that she was now discarnate."

  How could a person be oblivious to being a ghost?

  "Well, it’s a lot like an amputation. A person may think his amputated leg is there when it’s not. For the ghost it’s the same thing, only in the spirit’s case, the whole body is amputated away.

  "Nevertheless, in that case, I had to use a deep-trance medium to communicate with this woman," Ed concludes. "It was a long, emotional sitting. At first, I got the ‘Not-me-I’m-no-ghost’ routine, because she naturally refused to accept the fact that she was dead. Eventually, though, that afternoon we were able to get the woman to transition correctly as a spirit The phenomena in the house stopped immediately, of course. To some, it might seem cruel to send this woman on, but the human spirit is no pet. Therefore, it was imperative for this woman to know her condition. Otherwise, in the future, when the family moved away or also died, she’d still be fixed in her earthbound state. Once again, tragedy and unresolve are the watchwords of the ghost syndrome."

  Communication with a ghostly entity ordinarily takes place by means of mental telepathy. This is the process Lorraine used at West Point. It was not necessary for Greer to display himself in order to communicate; telepathy was perfectly sufficient to get the job done.

  Telepathy, a latent ability in everyone, is a form of thought transference. Instead of an idea being projected vocally, it is projected directly by the brain. Just like the eyes and ears, the brain—the most complex organ of the body—is also an organ of perception. Put another way, the brain can handle sense data the other five senses cannot. Spirits find this "sixth" sense the easiest to use as a channel of communication; however, what is not commonly understood is that thought transference is a physical phenomenon.

  "Thought has substance," Ed explains, "and the substance of thought is vibrations. All sense data, regardless of type, come to us by means of vibrations. Our body is like one great big antenna with specialized receivers to collect these specialized vibrations. Like radio waves, these vibrations can’t be seen, although they are all around us. Not only thoughts, but everything in the world has its own unique vibration, its own special frequency. Because each frequency is different, the brain is able to physically sort one thing out from another.

  "The one hitch is that it’s impossible for the human brain to distinguish between a real physical sound and the psychically-created impression of that sound. The frequency is identical. So when a ghost communicates by telepathy, it is no more or less than the transfer of vibrations from one mind to another. The result is communication. Of course, it follows that there would be no communication from the other side unless there was an intelligence, a mind, generating telepathic vibrations to the physical realm."

  As young artists, Ed and Lorraine discovered that much of the phenomena in haunted houses could be attributed to the workings of earthbound spirits. They learned in time that these discarnate entities—though sometimes responsible for frightening phenomena—did not really exist for a sinister purpose. Furthermore, despite the strange activity these earthbound human spirits were able to bring about, they did not have truly mysterious powers.

  In some rare cases, however, it was evident to the Warrens there was another category of phenomena altogether. Forces active in these homes had powers that were truly mysterious. "Many times," says Lorraine, "we would arrive at the site while the disturbance was still occurring. We would see the activity ourselves, firsthand. But most of all, I’d have to say the deportment of the people told the real story. We’d go into a home, and the family would be frightened senseless from what they’d seen or experienced. In those days, too, there were few if any institutes or agencies for people to call on, so many times these families would have to weather these incredible assaults by malicious spirits alone. By the time we arrived, they’d often be worn out, spent by the unrelenting phenomena going on around them. And though many of these folks were being harassed half out of their minds, a lot of times they didn’t realize that spirits—not to mention demonic spirits—were often responsible. There was nothing debatable about what was happening to these people: they were under siege.

  Ultimately, what Ed and I got out of these early experiences was an understanding that there was a spirit behind the phenomena, but that spirit was far worse, far more threatening than a mere ghost"

  "A ghost is essentially a passive entity with limited powers and abilities. Usually, it will manifest at random, attempt to communicate, and then dissipate from view. It works out to a cycle: manifestation, communication, dissipation," states Ed. "And other than make itself known, the ghost only rarely does anything. We came to find the ordinary earthbound human spirit to be a loner, caught up in a personal problem, seeking resolve to its primary nature. The ghost behaved in predictable ways, either wanting to communicate its plight or be left alone to contemplate its own misfortune. However, these other cases bore no markings whatsoever of the earthbound spirit. The enormous upheaval, the negative phenomena, the shock and terror indicated that something else was at work."

  In the worst cases, the Warrens walked into situations where things would be running completely amuck. Whereas a relatively docile human spirit might levitate a pencil or break a cherished teacup, here the whole house would be ruined in a deliberate, orderly way. Not infrequently, people in the home would be attacked, mentally and physically. At first the Warrens attributed these disturbances to gangs of spirits, perhaps marauding after death as they once had on earth. But this hopeful explanation never bore out, for this was a phenomenon with a purpose—something that was possessed of a mysterious intelligence—something that bespoke an absolutely wicked wisdom.

  While a ghost would manifest at any time, day or night, this species of phenomenon occurred most frequently in the absence of natural light. Disturbances tended to begin after sunset and end before sunrise. And unlike the ghost, which requires light energy to manifest, this thing was black when visible to the human eye, and desisted in the presence of light. It came in a large, formless mass, typically described by witnesses as "blacker than natural black."

  Moreover, everything associated with the spirit was terrifying and negative. Quite distinct from a ghost, which would vanish if fear was aroused, this spirit only intensified in an atmosphere of fear. Its arrival was accompanied by a sense of utter terror and foreboding; an undeniable sense of evil and wild animosity would fill the room. Often a foul, revolting stench—of sulfur, excrement, or rotting flesh—would fill the area where it materialized; many times it would leave behind a residue of blood and other bodily fluids. And like a beacon, it projected an unmitigating sense of hate and destructive jealousy; its every action was cruel, violent, and wrong. Furthermore, the Warrens noted, when these bizarre entities were present they played dirty, used foul language, and caused injury.

  In case after case, the phenomena the Warrens came across bore the same foul, terrifying imprint. What was this depraved force of hate and violence? Eventually, however, they no longer needed to guess, for to make itself known, this spirit often left deliberate, forthright clues: upside-down crosses, piles of excrement, pools of urine. Indeed, it often boldly wrote what it was, usually on mirrors—backwards, from right to left:

  Or more straightforwardly:

  D E A T H T O G O D

  "When it didn’t scrawl blasphemies," says Ed, "then it would scribble debasing, vulgar obscenities. The first time I saw these filthy markings, I
thought someone in the house had a really sick mind. Naively, I tried to wipe these graffiti off the walls and mirrors so that Lorraine wouldn’t be exposed to them. But no sooner did I wipe them clean than they’d appear again in front of my eyes. It soon became apparent to me this wasn’t the work of human beings—or human spirits.

  "At first," Ed admits, "the whole concept of demoniacal phenomena was incomprehensible to me, as I’m sure it would have been for anyone caught up in the same situation. Yet it was also apparent to me that these disturbances were totally unlike those brought on by earthbound human spirits. Not only did these entities write on walls, in rare cases they even spoke—with a physicalized voice. Still, neither Lorraine nor I could accept it These consistently negative powers were so powerful and menacing that we did our best to avoid them in our work. Just to be in the vicinity of the phenomenon was emotionally abysmal. Although I knew we were making real progress categorizing the behavior of the earthbound human spirit, this was something we never planned on."

  For Ed Warren, discovery of the demonic realm was not some end point in an overblown religious quest. He had not gone out in the world and found "demons" to suit his fancy. "We came across this activity inadvertently, in the process of our investigations. It was there when we walked in. But unlike human spirits, these things were nothing to mess with. We kept our distance and studied their workings as much as we could, while helping the person or family involved. Only later did we find out how viciously these inhuman entities attacked any religious emblem—and then, how grave a problem the demonic really is to the pious clergy." Could the Warrens’ religious beliefs possibly affect what they see? It rather seems that a person would be more prone to perceive supernatural activity if he or she believed in it first.

  "That sounds reasonable," Ed agrees, "but what we’ve seen in our work couldn’t have been influenced by what we believe. We have no reason to put our thumb on the scale: we’re not Bible thumpers; we don’t charge money for our services; and we’re both physically and mentally fit. You have to understand that we’re called in by other people who are already experiencing troublesome activity. Their children have suddenly begun acting peculiar, or things are flying around the house and they don’t know why it’s happening or how to stop it; so eventually these people call on us for help. When Lorraine and I get involved, it’s after the disturbance has erupted, not before—at which time we do our best to identify the source of the disturbance, and act accordingly to stop it, or bring in someone who can.

  "These days," says Ed, "people who aren’t familiar with the problem like to philosophize about the demonic as being a purely psychological event, or say it’s not even there at all. But these people have never witnessed the phenomena themselves, or they would not make such empty statements. Just once, they need the experience of walking into a home where these inhuman spirits have manifested.

  "Outside, neighbors will be milling around on the sidewalk. They instinctively know something is wrong. When you go inside, the family is liable to be sobbing or huddled together in terror, totally petrified from some horror they’ve been through. Their clothes could be half torn off. In the air, there may be a powerful stench of sulfur, ozone, or excrement. If there is possession, that individual is liable to come at you like a hulking monster. Objects will be levitating. The inside of the house may be completely vandalized by unseen forces; everything, big and small, turned over and broken. Very often there will be incredible poundings coming from the walls. And on the walls themselves, there are liable to be obscene or antireligious statements written by unseen hands in any of a dozen languages. Things will materialize and dematerialize right in front of your eyes. Religious objects will be desecrated or hung conspicuously upside down. Little fires may be flickering on the corners of chairs; the curtains may already have gone up in flames. Sheer havoc! And over it all there’ll be an atmosphere of evil so thick you could cut it with a knife. Ungodly screams, deep baleful moaning, or maniacal laughter will rise up, enough to make your blood run cold. Then, somewhere along the line—if you’re unlucky—the spirit itself may come through the doorway, or the wall, or manifest behind you and suddenly it all becomes quite clear this is not some explainable twist of fantasy. This is a real physical attack on humankind that occurs in a purposeful, directed way."

  Curiously, the Warrens came to find that the phenomena brought about by inhuman spirits occurred in stages. In the beginning, the activity was relatively mild as the spirit took hold, cautious not to cause alarm. However, not everyone was subject to the phenomena. Often specific individuals were singled out for encroachment or attack. And there was a reason why they would be a target—as two young nurses recently found out.

  III

  Annabelle

  When the telephone rings at the Warrens’ house, and a somber-toned clergyman on the other end of the line asks for Ed Warren, there’s a better than even chance that something serious has happened. Such was the case with “Annabelle.”

  The referral this time came from an Episcopal priest. Calling from the Church’s administrative offices in Connecticut, the clergyman was relaying a message he’d received from a minister elsewhere in the state. Though the information the priest had was sketchy, he nonetheless told Ed Warren that two young nurses had “communicated” with what they took to be a human spirit. The priest doubted that was the case, however, because the plea for help included the fact that one of the girls’ friends had been attacked—physically. Though the wounds were not serious, activity was still in progress, and one of the girls seemed to think there was something alien inside her apartment “Would you,” he asked, “investigate the case further, and as a demonologist, recommend if any formal church action should be taken?”

  Agreeing with the clergyman’s assessment that something of a negative spirit nature might conceivably be at work, Ed Warren accepted the referral. With that, the priest gave Ed the phone number and names of the two young women. After speaking with the priest, Ed immediately called the number he’d been given. Upon reaching one of the nurses, Ed verified the existence of the problem and told the young women that he and Lorraine were on their way.…

  Though traffic was light on the Interstate that day, it took the Warrens well over an hour to reach the address of the modern, low-rise apartment complex. After parking the car, the Warrens walked up to the front door and Ed rang the bell. He carried with him a tape recorder, camera, and black attaché case. Footsteps soon approached from inside. Bolt locks were unsnapped, and the door was opened by Deirdre Bernard, an attractive but sober-faced young lady of twenty-five. Ed and Lorraine Warren introduced themselves, and were then ushered into the apartment

  The young nurse led the Warrens through a spacious living room into the kitchen. There Cal Randell and his fiancée, Lara Clifton, sat at the table drinking coffee. Deirdre introduced the Warrens to them, but the young people said very little. The serious, drawn look on their faces said it all. The Warrens then took a seat with the others at the table. After loading a cassette into the recorder, Ed switched on the machine and entered the time, date, address, and full names of the principals.

  “Okay,” Ed began, “I’d like to hear the whole story, right from the beginning. Who here can tell me?”

  “I can,” said Deirdre.

  “All right. Cal, Lara, please add any details she leaves out,” Ed directed.

  “There are two stories, really,” Deirdre said. “One that began earlier in the week with Cal. The other one’s about Annabelle. But I suppose they’re both about Annabelle. I’m not sure.”

  “Who’s Annabelle?” Ed promptly asked.

  “She belongs to Deirdre,” Lara replied.

  “Belongs?” questioned Lorraine. “Is Annabelle a live, breathing being?”

  “Is she alive?” Deirdre repeated quizzically. “She moves. She acts alive. But no, I don’t think she’s alive.”

  “Annabelle’s in the living room,” said Lara, pointing across the table. “She’s sitti
ng on the sofa.”

  Lorraine looked to her left, into the living room. “Are you talking about the doll?”

  “That’s right,” Lara replied, “the big Raggedy Ann doll. “That’s Annabelle. She moves!”

  Ed got up and walked into the living room to inspect the doll. It was big and heavy, the size of a four-year-old child, sitting with its legs stretched out on the sofa. The black pupilless eyes stared back at him, while the painted-on smile gave the doll an expression of grim irony. Looking it over without touching the thing, Ed then returned to the kitchen.

  “Where did the doll come from?” Ed asked Deirdre.

  “It was a gift,” Deirdre replied. “My mother gave it to me on my last birthday.”

  “Is there some reason why she bought you a doll?” Ed wanted to know.

  “No. It was just something novel—a decoration,” the young nurse answered.

  “Okay,” Ed went on, “when did you first start noticing activity occur?”

  “About a year ago,” said Deirdre. “The doll started to move around the apartment by itself. I don’t mean it got up and walked around, or any such thing. I mean when we’d come home from work it would never be quite where we left it.”

  “Explain that part a little more,” Ed requested.

  “After I got the doll for my birthday,” Deirdre explained, “I put it on my bed each morning after the bed was made. The arms would be off to its sides and its legs would be straight out—just like it’s sitting there now. But when we’d come home at night, the arms and legs would be positioned in different gestures. For instance, its legs would be crossed at the ankles, or its arms would be folded in its lap. After a week or so, this made us suspicious. So, to test it, I purposely crossed its arms and legs in the morning to see if it really was moving. And sure enough, every night when we’d come back home, the arms and legs would be uncrossed and the thing would be sitting there in any of a dozen different postures.”

 

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