“Like what?”
“We didn’t know,” the boy answered. “But we felt a really strong sense of evil all around us. I don’t know how to say it. Anyway, we wanted to get out of the house, but we didn’t want to go through the downstairs. Meg said we ought to jump out the window, but I thought that was nuts. I told her we were gonna run out. Meg got dressed in clothes from my closet because she wouldn’t go back into her room. Then I opened the bedroom door. We could see the lights were on downstairs, and we could hear the footsteps stomping around. But we didn’t care, we just wanted out: so we decided to make a break for it.”
“We went into the hall and nothing happened,” Meg said, “except the whole upstairs was sweating hot. So we ran down the stairs as fast as we could and got out the front door.”
“Did you see furniture tossed over in the room downstairs?”
“No, I don’t think so. The furniture was out of place, but I don’t remember if I saw any of it knocked over.”
“Did you, Meg?”
“I didn’t even look,” she admitted.
“All I remember about the inside of the house,” Joel went on, “was that the radio wasn’t playing—it was buzzing, like it was picking up static. Anyway, we got out of the house and decided to run up to the university campus to call somebody. I’ll never forget that. There were dogs outside, and when they saw us running, they started to run with us too. But when they got close, they ran backwards! And the birds—as we ran along, the whole woods were full of screeching birds!”
“About what time was this, Joel?”
“Between eleven and eleven-thirty that night.”
“Beside the fact that birds aren’t active at night, was there anything unusual about the incident? Did you notice if the screeching came from only one side, maybe from the left?”
“Yeah, only on the left side,” the boy said emphatically. “How did you know that?”
“It doesn’t matter right now,” Ed told him. “Just continue with what happened out on the road.”
“We were running up the road, but something was chasing us from behind,” the boy went on. “Whatever was in the house had followed us. We were running toward the street light, because we felt we’d be safe if we made it there. But it didn’t seem like we could make it to the light. We couldn’t make any progress. It was like running in place. We were being held back by some sort of forcefield.”
“If that force caught up with you, Meg, what do you think would have happened?” Ed asked.
“It did catch up to us!” she said. “It was heavy and it tried to force us down on the road. If we didn’t get to the light, it would have killed us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because there was no air to breathe,” she responded
“Somehow,” Joel recalled, “we did get to the street light From there, we could see the house. We weren’t that far away. The screeching birds died down a lot. Under the light, we felt safer; at least we didn’t feel the pressure pushing down on us anymore. But the light seemed to be getting dim, so we decided to run all the way to the campus without stopping. As soon as we got away from the light, though, the screeching got louder than before. It scared us really bad. But we ran, and kept running as hard as we could until we got to the intersection where the cars were. That’s the first time we felt safe. Then we walked along the road until we came to a store that was still open. I had a dollar bill and we got change in there. Then we walked up to the campus and found a phone. Meg’s feet were all covered with blisters from wearing my shoes. So she sat in a doorway while I called my parents.”
“Did you have any trouble with the phone call?” Lorraine interjected.
“No, ma’am,” Joel replied. “I got hold of Mom and Dad at their friend’s house, I told them what happened, but they said we were dreaming and better go back to bed,” the boy answered somewhat angrily. “I told them we weren’t home—that we were on campus, and we weren’t going home! While I was talking I saw a campus cop pull up and start talking to Meg. Mom told me to get him to bring us home, and told me they’d meet us there. After that, nothing else happened—at least nothing so far today.”
The rest of the family sat quietly, each one absorbing the strange, incredible tale the children had related.
Ed then questioned Lorraine. “Downstairs,” she reported, “I felt only an overlay of negative vibrations. But there does seem to be something upstairs, in one of the children’s bedrooms. I'm not sure which one. When I was in Joel’s bedroom, I felt an extreme sense of confusion come over me, as if I’d been gassed.
“We felt that too!” Meg said, amazed.
“This feeling made me lose all sense of where I was,” Lorraine went on. “When I extricated myself from that room, I went to the door of what I supposed was Meg’s bedroom. Standing by the door, I felt pressure on my head and shoulders that began forcing me backwards, down the stairs. I decided not to go into that bedroom. It was an inhuman presence, and to the best of my ability, I consider it to be located in Meg’s bedroom. Do you happen to have black conjuring candles in your room?” Lorraine asked.
“Yes,” Meg replied, astonished by the question.
Ed looked around the table. The family looked frightened and helpless. Mr. Foster seemed to feel himself diminished in his family’s eyes for not being able to cope with a problem—albeit invisible—going on in his own home.
“If things haven’t gone too far,” Ed told them, “I’ll try to take care of the matter. Why don’t you all go out and take a Sunday drive? Stay away for about an hour,” he recommended. “And while you’re out, please don’t discuss, or even think about, the events of the past few days. When you return, then we can talk.”
They were glad to hear that something could be done. Mr. Foster brusquely marshaled his family out the front door, and in less than a minute they were in the car and on their way.
Ed and Lorraine remained inside. They knew the children could not have made up their story; it contained too many specific details that could have been learned only through experience. Indeed, nothing the children had said was new to Ed and Lorraine. All the details the children had related squared with demoniacal activity they’d encountered in the past. Now, however, their task was to discern the true nature of the spirit presence—in order to dispel it.
The Warrens cannot always determine the precise nature of a spirit simply by interviewing the people involved. “The demonic spirit attempts to remain anonymous,” Ed explains, “but in the long run, it really can’t It leaves telltale signs of preternatural power. For example, these spirits usually disregard the physical environment. A few years ago we were in a home where a television cameraman was being hit with marbles being thrown at him—right through a wall! Other times, the demonic makes things out of nothing. If solid, these materializations are warm to the touch, indicating some process of energy manipulation. Sometimes the materializations dematerialize just as quickly; other times, they’ll remain. I have a collection of these apports, as they’re called.”
Have these “apports” or teleported substances ever been scientifically analyzed?
“Absolutely,” Ed replies. “This physical evidence is necessary to document the need for an exorcism. Whenever these substances manifest in a case, I take a sample and send it out to a laboratory for a compositional breakdown. The apports most frequently produced are urine, bile, vomit, blood, or excrement These substances appear because they’ve either been teleported into a home, or they’ve been synthetically assembled by the spirits holding sway. Such apports usually contain all the minerals, trace elements, and amino acids found in nature. There’s nothing especially new or mysterious about them usually, other than how they got there. Demonic spirits may be able to do strange things, but they are limited to manipulating the physical environment. Contrary to what our friends the Satanists may think, a devil is not a god,” Ed says wryly, “It has no true powers of creation: it can only rearrange what’s already here."
Why is it necessary to send the family out of the house?
“If the data I get during the interview is ambiguous, or if there is no visible phenomena going on,” Ed answers, “then to determine if the spirit presence is human or inhuman, I have to resort to religious provocation: it’s a dangerous, but also a revealing tactic. Almost anything can happen in this kind of situation, so if I have to provoke, I’ll send everyone out to lunch and stay in the house by myself. In some cases Lorraine will stay with me, but her role goes no further than discernment. There is nothing a clairvoyant can do against a malicious demonic spirit, although there are a number of ways a negative entity can seriously harm a ‘sensitive’ individual. When I go it alone, I use provocation because I'm not a psychic—I’ve got to cause activity that I can perceive it with my five senses like anyone else. I always carry a relic of Padre Pio along with me for protection; the more religious power I add, the more likely it is to be provoked to respond. Knowing what I’m up against, many times I’d feel more comfortable carrying a tire iron and a shotgun. But you can’t kill something that’s existed since the beginning of time.
“Nevertheless, when I’m there alone, the house is still and quiet. Nothing seems wrong. If there’s a place where the disturbance is localized, then I'll go to that area first If the family has told me there’s no specific locale, then I’ll just go from room to room until something happens. If a ghost is responsible for the problem, then it’ll usually show itself to me, as I’m going through the house. It knows the joke’s over, and a ghost really wants no quarrel with God. But if it’s a demonic spirit, sworn to hate God and repulsed by the religious objects, then sooner or later, things will let go. The temperature in the house will drop until it’s freezing cold, or rise to oven-hot levels. Up will rise the stink of rotting flesh or some other foul odor. I may hear something explode. A threatening voice, sounding like no human being you ever heard, will order me to leave. I may hear footsteps—telepathically projected—running up stairs. This is a ploy to get me to follow so that I could possibly be cornered in some room. Unseen hands may scrawl an obscenity on the walls in front of me. Other times, none of this will happen. And then when I least expect it, the spirit will betray itself and begin to manifest in black. And why does this religious provocation process work? Is it me? No. It works because the demonic spirit hates, I mean hates, any mention of the name of God or the use of religious objects. This entity is so full of guilt, hate, and jealousy that religious provocation is actually painful to the inhuman spirit”
In the Foster house, the Warrens worked together. For provocation purposes, Ed used a crucifix and holy water—items both anathema to the demonic. Finding their way to the basement, Ed scattered holy water at all four points of the cellar floor. Then he said aloud, “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command all spirits—whether human or diabolical—to leave this dwelling and never return.” The Warrens waited for a response, but there was none.
Why is Ed allowed to use holy water when he isn’t a priest?
“It isn’t a matter of being allowed,” Ed says. “People are allowed to use holy water in their homes. The difference is that the water I use in my work has been blessed by certain special priests who are exorcists. The water carries a very real positive power to it. It’s not the water itself that’s of importance, but the piety it represents. I only use the water, I don’t bless it.”
On the first floor, Ed repeated the same procedure in each of the rooms. The process, known to the exorcist as binding, requires the infesting spirit to either show itself (if present) or move on. Having “bound” the cellar and all downstairs rooms without incident, the Warrens were ready to approach the second floor where they knew difficulty was lurking. But as they prepared to act, a dread terror swept over them. For the Warrens, this telepathically-projected emotion, experienced simultaneously by both, was a distinct indication of an inhuman demonic presence. “The demonic,” says Ed, “projects terror the way a rattlesnake uses its rattler—as a warning.”
A dank smell of mildew rose in the room. Suddenly a flash of movement was seen at the top of the stairs. Then a door slammed—the sound practically jolting them off their feet The Warrens thought twice about going any further. They knew that any error in judgment on their part could result in a backlash of terror that might last for years.
As is usually the case, though, the Warrens decided to press on. They began climbing the staircase to the second floor. Yet, as hard as they tried, neither Ed nor Lorraine could get any more than halfway up; pushing against them was an impenetrable, unyielding force. Says Lorraine, “It felt like we were walking shoulder-deep against a powerful, fast-moving river.” As much as they resisted, the power being exerted against them was impossible to overcome. Slowly, the Warrens backed down the stairs, so as not to be knocked over backwards.
At the bottom of the stairs, for a brief second, diabolical laughter rang out. Annoyed, Ed threw more holy water on the stairs, which caused the pressure to diminish enough to let them reach the top. The second floor was partitioned into bedrooms; a long hallway ran the width of the house.
Ed sprinkled Erin’s room with holy water and then recited the expulsion command, without incident. That room bound, the Warrens moved to Joel’s room next. The lightweight door, which had stood open before, was now closed. Ed turned the knob and pushed the door open with his fingertips. To their relief, the room was vacant. Again Ed went through the binding procedure without trouble. Meg’s room was the last stop.
The door to the older girl’s room was also closed. What awaited them on the other side the Warrens did not know. Ed twisted the doorknob, cracked the door ajar, and then swung it wide open. They both stepped back involuntarily. There was something in the room. Though invisible, it projected a horrible sense of misery; it was an absolutely heart-breaking emotion projected by an entity that is damned to perish. Yet the Warrens knew better than to react to this emotional ploy. It was but a ruse, an appeal for sympathy. Instead, with a steely composure, Ed walked into the room, cross in hand.
Though no physical presence was there to be seen, the bedroom was freezing cold. One last time, Ed threw holy water in all four corners of the room. Then, commanding, he stated, “In the name of God, show yourself now—or leave.” ...A dead silence lingered. “Give us some sign of departure,” Ed said aloud in the empty room, “or exorcism will be conducted here this very day.” Almost instantly the morbid sense of misery began to drain away from them. Then the temperature in the room gradually returned to normal. The spell was broken.
Looking around the bedroom, the Warrens saw why the spirit had taken up this room as its abode. Meg’s bedroom contained black conjuring candles, occult vestments, and books containing the rites for profane rituals of all sorts. Ed placed the items in the girl’s trash basket, set them out in the hallway, and then “sealed” the room by reading a prescribed prayer of sanctification.
Their job done, the Warrens walked back downstairs. For them, the long, tense Sunday afternoon needn’t have been spent in such a ghastly manner. Looking through the living room window, Lorraine noticed the Foster family sitting in their car in the driveway. She opened the door and waved them inside.
“Everything depends on your future actions,” Ed explained once they came in. “Any improvements you may have thought about making in your lives ought to begin right now. Certainly, “he told Meg,” there should be no more rituals of any sort! All the occult books and conjuring paraphernalia that were up in your bedroom belong in the garbage.
“Beyond that, I strongly recommend that you folks have the house blessed by a clergyman in the area. What happened, you see, is that your daughter’s meddling with supernatural rituals actually drew a negative spirit into your house. The blessing needs to be done as a precaution against that spirit’s return. However, it will be effective only if you folks keep up an emotional atmosphere that does not attract such entities to your home again. My advice is to arrange for this blessing to
be done today, not tomorrow.
“Most of all,” Ed stressed,” your best protection in the coming weeks and months is to develop positive interests as a shield against the negative. If you’re religious-minded people, consider going to church as a family once a week as a show of sincerity. This gesture would be a good start toward counteracting the spirit force that was drawn in here. In short, your daughter has done something negative that now has to be balanced out by something positive. As matters stand, you’re all vulnerable for a replay of these events—unless you develop a desire for this not to happen again. Lorraine and I have done all we can. The rest is up to you.”
At the front door, Ed made a final comment: “By the way, the spirit in this home is dormant,” he warned, “but it hasn’t vanished.”
With that, Lorraine’s eyeglasses suddenly rose from her hand in full view of everyone, looped once in the air, and then smashed to the floor, breaking the left lens. The Fosters watched in amazement, though they barely understood what happened in their home. They were simply victims who had seen the supernatural as a plaything, when in reality, they had been its toy.
VI
Of Unworldly Origin
Of all the common and familiar objects of conversation that are entered upon in company, of things remote from nature and cut off from the senses, there is none so ready to hand, none so unusual, as that of spirits; and whether what is said of them is true. It is a topic people most readily discuss and on which they linger the longest because of the abundance of examples, the subject being fine and pleasing, and the discussion being the least tedious that can be found,
Pierre Le Loyer, 1586
Some of the first books ever printed in the English language were on the subject of spirits and demonology. Spirits were no less a fact of life in the sixteenth century than they are today: the same ruin and terror went on, the same violent scenario applied.
The Demonologist: The Extraordinary Career of Ed and Lorraine Warren Page 10