by R. H. Stavis
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to those who have wondered.
Those who have suffered.
Those who have thought, even for a moment,
that there might be something more.
It’s for those who are willing, and ready, to see beyond the veil.
This book is dedicated to you.
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Introduction: The Exorcist Next Door
CHAPTER 1 Balled-Up Socks and Baby Dolls: Growing Up with Demons
CHAPTER 2 Finally Facing My Demons
CHAPTER 3 Making Sense of Entities
CHAPTER 4 The Most Common Entities
CHAPTER 5 The Most Dangerous Entities of All
CHAPTER 6 The Source of All Things
CHAPTER 7 The Ins and Outs of Exorcisms
CHAPTER 8 Higher Beings: Spirit Guides, Master Teachers, Ancestors, and More
CHAPTER 9 The Exorcism Itself
CHAPTER 10 Entities and Religion
CHAPTER 11 The Slaughterhouse Collector
CHAPTER 12 Exorcising the Cecil
CHAPTER 13 Bad Moons, Lost Souls, and Making Sense of Everything
CHAPTER 14 Raising Your Frequency: The Big Picture
CHAPTER 15 Home Ex-Onomics
CHAPTER 16 Now That You Know . . .
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
INTRODUCTION
The Exorcist Next Door
I hate answering my phone after midnight. Like, I really can’t stand it, and it’s not because I’m worried someone I love has just died. I know a late-night call means I’ve got to go to work, and the job is going to be a tough one. I’m an exorcist, so I know very intimately what comes out at night, after most people go to bed. Trust me, a lot of it is pretty scary, and if you’re calling me in the wee hours, you’re probably face-to-face with something infinitely more terrible than you’ve ever seen before.
That’s why, when my cell started ringing one night last year, waking me from a deep sleep, I didn’t even think about letting the call go to voicemail. Somebody needed me, and they couldn’t wait. When I answered, the woman on the other end of the line introduced herself as a friend of a friend, and as she continued, I could hear how scared she was.
“Something’s wrong with my daughter,” she whispered frantically, “and I think you’re my last hope. My girl’s not eating. She’s always been such a happy child, so friendly to everyone, but now she’s withdrawn. We’ve always been so close, but now she won’t even tell me what’s wrong. She won’t tell me anything.” She paused to take a breath, and when she next spoke I could hear her voice crack. “She’s like a different child than the one I gave birth to.”
I was half-asleep, but I knew what I needed to do next.
“I’m sure I can help. How old is your daughter?”
“She’s only ten. She’s still so young. But I’m sure she’s possessed. Something’s taken her over.”
I’m used to calls like this, though they usually don’t come after midnight (thank God). People contact me and tell me they’ve started binge drinking after years of being sober, and they can’t figure out why or summon the willpower to stop. Or their marriage has turned toxic and abusive, yet they can’t work up the nerve to leave. Women call me, sobbing, and say that they’ve been trying for years to get pregnant, and their doctors have told them to just give up and move on. Or musicians come to me complaining that they’ve frozen up, lost their inspiration, and are terrified to get on the stage for a huge performance. Each of these people feels fundamentally altered, like they’re being pulled down by 100-pound weights or have the world’s worst case of the flu. They may even look different—older and exhausted, with bags under their eyes and joints that have begun to ache and crack. They’ve spent thousands of dollars seeing therapists, who’ve listened to them patiently but come up with no workable solutions. Or they’ve gone to doctor after doctor, and all have sent them away, saying, “You don’t have a disease or infection. There’s nothing actually wrong with you.” They may have visited an energy healer, or gone to confession to try to find some peace. But when these outlets inevitably fail, my clients start to worry that they’re losing their minds. They imagine something sinister and awful has invaded the deepest part of their being. Yet how could that possibly be? People don’t get “invaded.” Voodoo dolls and evils spells aren’t real, are they?
The truth is that something has taken over these totally normal, sane individuals. What I call an entity—and what people throughout history have called a demon—has attached itself or burrowed into their bodies, and now it’s feeding off of them. It’s living off their fears, depressions, anxieties, and a host of other negative energies and emotions. They may have had this entity with them for ten years or ten days, but it’s interfering with their lives, and until it’s gone things aren’t going to get better. Until they find me, they don’t know that I’m probably the only person in the world who can identify their problem and make it disappear.
No, I’m not the Queen of the Damned or a Goddess in Black Leather Pants. (I save the leather pants for special occasions.) I’m just Rachel Stavis, the exorcist next door.
I normally don’t ask clients to come over at night. I’m not lazy; it’s just that battling entities is hard, exhausting work, and if I’m not well rested, it can be tough to summon enough mental and spiritual energy to fight the way I need to. But I consider a child in peril a true emergency, so I push myself to get to work no matter how late it is.
“Please,” I said to the mother on the phone, “drive here as soon as you can. Not tomorrow. Get over here right now.”
About an hour later, I watched a blue minivan pull up to my house in the Valley. For those of you not familiar with Southern California, “the Valley” is shorthand for the San Fernando Valley, the sprawling patch of former orange groves just north of Los Angeles that’s home to everything from the Warner Bros. lot to 99 percent of the U.S. porn industry. I could see a middle-aged woman lifting a sleeping girl out of the van’s back seat, so I rushed out and met them, then walked with them to the guest cottage in my backyard.
“I’m glad you made it so quickly,” I said. “Please, come inside.”
The little girl opened her eyes, looked at me, then burrowed her head into the crook of her mom’s shoulder. Even though I’d just barely caught a glimpse of her face, I could see how vacant her big, brown eyes were. The child who I was sure had gone to school and played happily with her friends for ten years wasn’t quite there; her expression looked cloudy, almost blurry. Worse, she had something around her that only I could see: a dark puff of smoke encircling her face and head, so close it was as if it were part of her.
With her child still in her arms, the mom sat down on the big, plush couch I’d situated near the French doors that divided the front of my cottage from the room in the back. That space is my Spirit Room, where I perform all my exorcisms and do all my spiritual work. When the mom finally pulled her daughter away from her own body and shifted her just to her left, my concern for the girl doubled. Part of me even worried whether I’d be able to help her. She’s so terrified and closed off, I thought. Is she going to be willing enough for this exorcism to work? The little girl still couldn’t look me in the eyes, and as her mom reached toward her, she pulled away and clasped her hands between her knees.
The mom started speaking slowly, her voice shaky and soft. This isn’t all that unusual; people often think they have to whisper near my Spirit Room, perhaps because it’s such a calming place, with the lights low and candles flickering. Or maybe they’re just worried abou
t who might be listening, telling themselves, If I’m quiet enough, the entities won’t hear what I’m about to say.
“When my daughter first stopped eating, we saw a few doctors and a psychiatrist. They didn’t help.” She started to choke up. “Then she showed me cuts and bruises on her body and swore up and down she had no idea where they’d come from. Made-up words and symbols—things that didn’t make any sense—appeared on her arms and legs, and then she started talking about seeing demons.” The woman was crying at this point, and I reached for a box of tissues as she continued. “Here, I’ll have her show you.”
The mother gently coaxed her daughter to stand up, whispering softly to her as the little girl raised up her shirt and turned around. Good God, this breaks my heart, I thought, eyeing the red X’s that were carved into her back. The wounds weren’t deep—they looked like cat scratches rather than gashes—but they were unmistakable to me. An entity did that. To an innocent child.
“We’re religious,” the mom said when her daughter returned to her side. “So when we suspected something was wrong, we talked to our priest. It started just as a friendly meeting, for counsel and prayer, like I had before I got married or after my father died. But pretty soon it turned into something different.”
“How’s that?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“He said that she might be possessed, but he couldn’t tell unless he talked with her. The next day, I brought her to him after school, and he met with her for an hour or so. But instead of doing something to help her, the priest told me she was faking.” She paused and wiped her eyes. “My baby isn’t pretending. She’s just a little girl—and I know my child.”
This definitely wasn’t the first time I’d heard someone say something like this. The Catholic Church has a very specific set of guidelines about demonic possession and exorcisms, which the Vatican updated in 1999 for the first time since 1614. According to the Church, “true” demonic possession is incredibly rare, and they believe that most people who come to them, swearing up and down that something’s taken over them, are actually just suffering from some terrible mental or physical ailment. In the end, priests may say a few prayers and offer blessings, but they still turn almost everyone away.
But because I can see entities—like the one feeding off the ten-year-old sitting on my couch—I know they exist, and I’m fully aware of how common they are. In fact, every single person on this planet has probably been possessed at one point or another in their lives, and 99 percent of people are walking around with entities now, totally oblivious to them. They may suspect something is wrong, but they attribute it to stress, a bad boss, or the fight they just had with their boyfriend. These traumas—big or small—may have triggered the initial possession, but they’re symptoms, not the cause.
Shocking, huh? Don’t lose any sleep over it. The fact that entities affect everything around us isn’t necessarily life-or-death. Entities are the unfortunate by-products of our topsy-turvy, high-pressure lives that are all too often out of sync with Spirit (the guiding spiritual force in our world). Luckily, there’s a lot you can do about them. You can prevent them from attaching themselves to you, or if you’re with me, blast them into oblivion. I want to share with you all the truths that possessions reveal, which is exactly what I did with the terrified mom in front of me.
“Your daughter’s not faking anything,” I said, “and she’s not sick. There’s an entity attached to her, and I’m going to find out why it’s there. Then, I’m going to destroy it.”
Before I led the two of them into my Spirit Room, we talked for close to an hour about some recent events the girl had experienced. It turns out, she hadn’t been having a good year; in fact, it had been the worst of her short life. Her beloved grandmother, who’d cared for her every day when she was a baby and toddler, had just died in a car accident. Children often think a tragedy is their fault—that they did something to deserve it or bring it on—and she was no different. She was kicking herself over all the things she should have said or done before her grandma died. She was blaming herself, believing that she should have told her grandma not to get into her car that night. This deep, intrinsic way of really feeling something, even if you haven’t caused it, is why so many kids commit suicide when something bad happens to them. They don’t yet possess the spiritual or emotional maturity to understand that everything truly does occur for a reason—and often we’ll just never learn or understand it. Honestly, some adults never get to that place, either. Children are so innocent they can break into a million pieces over the smallest things, and that’s why I always help them immediately when they’re in need.
It was obvious to me that the girl’s spiritual and emotional energy had dipped so low that the entity had attached to her and was now not only feeding off her depression, but also increasing her sense of regret and sadness. That’s how some entities work: the worse you feel, the better off they are. They devour all the negativity you’re radiating like it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet, sending you into a seemingly hopeless spiritual feedback loop. I knew that if I didn’t remove this entity as quickly as possible, chances were the little girl would walk around with it for the rest of her life, feeling some shade of awful every single day. If she didn’t get better, the effect of the entity might even grow over time. Even worse, I understood that kids, especially very young ones like her, aren’t in touch with what motivates them, so they’ll spend years feeling yucky about something—they’re just not sure what—and then make decisions out of that suffering. Eventually, the trauma—and the entity that has attached to them because of it—will have defined the course of their lives. Think about it: Did a painful experience in your childhood, like your parents’ divorce or being bullied, cut you so deeply that your adult decisions are still based on that suffering? Do you even realize you’re doing such a thing?
Children don’t deserve that. This child certainly didn’t. And that’s what I was going to help her with.
I convinced the girl’s mom to let me take her into my Spirit Room alone. It’s dangerous to have other people close by during an exorcism because their energy may interfere with the hyperfocused flow I manipulate between my client and the entity. I also always ask tough questions during exorcisms, and most people are afraid to be honest about their deep, dark feelings if someone else is present.
The exorcism took about an hour, and it was a success; I cleared out the entities that were causing my young client’s pain. Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult. She was possessed by a low-level entity I call a Clive—something I’d seen many times before—combined with a higher-level entity called a Trickster. I’ll describe both in vivid detail later in the book, but for now, just know that these awful beasts were amplifying the negative feelings she had about her grandmother’s death, and they were making her feel crazy. They were making her act crazy. Worst of all, they were also committing appalling acts of physical violence against her.
I know, I know, you’re probably super upset with me that I didn’t describe all the gory details of the exorcism. You’re probably asking yourself, Did she vomit green bile? Did her head spin around? Umm, no. That crazy shit only happens in the movies—most of the time. I have seen some Hollywood-level drama go down during a few of my exorcisms, and I’ll talk about those and a dozen of my other exorcisms later in this book. In fact, I’ll describe so many entities in the next few chapters that they’ll probably feel like old, boring friends by the time you finish.
All I will say for now is that there was a happy ending. When the little girl left my house at four in the morning, she told me she felt lighter, and she looked it. She wasn’t hunched over, and as she waved goodbye to me, she actually smiled. I grinned right back because I knew her sense of devastation had passed. I’d watched all that negative energy leave her body quickly, right along with the entity that had been attached to her.
Last Christmas, I ran into the girl’s aunt.
“My niece is doing so well,” she sai
d happily. “She’s back to her old self. She’s a normal, happy kid again.”
I know I sound like a narcissist, but this was no surprise. Helping people is why I do what I do. Seeing entities—and then pulling them out of people’s bodies, working until there’s nothing left but a gray mass that dissipates into oblivion—is why I was put on this earth, and it’s going to be my job for the rest of my life. I’ve been seeing entities since I was just a little girl, and trust me, they were terrifying to me then. Some of them looked like something out of a horror novel, while others would blanket my room with a spiderlike web, disrupting my sleep and giving me nightmares. I didn’t know what to do with what I was seeing till I was in my thirties, and then I stumbled through a lot of sloppy exorcisms until I found my groove. Believe me, when I was young, I never called what I saw or did “a gift.” In fact, I thought my crazy, extrasensory ability was a curse. Now I know it’s the greatest blessing I could ever ask for. It’s my life’s purpose.
In this book, I’ll welcome you not just into my strange world, but into the entire realm of entities, Spirit, frequency, and how they directly affect you. I’ll describe the many levels of entities—and what you might have attached to you right now—and show you what you can do to avoid attracting others. While you can gradually force out an entity by raising your energy level over time—or make subtle shifts in your life that will prevent the worst entities from coming to you—you can’t exorcise yourself immediately. Only I can do that, right in my Spirit Room.
I’m a nondenominational exorcist, which makes a lot of people scratch their heads. So you’re an atheist? they ask. Or they wonder: If the entities you see aren’t religious, does that mean there’s no God? That’s not for me to say, really. Religious beliefs are completely personal, and faith is something you feel, not something I or anyone else can force upon you. I believe in what I refer to as Spirit because I tap into it every day. During exorcisms, I call in Spirit Guides, Master Teachers, angels, my ancestors, even gods and goddesses, all of whom come from and are part of Spirit. Sometimes even Jesus shows up, and it’s always fun to see Buddha. You think I’m joking, don’t you? Yeah, I’m not. Traditional religious figures also arise from Spirit, and in this book, I’ll talk about what Spirit is and how it affects the world around us. Spirit is often called Source (I use the two interchangeably), and it’s where all good and bad things come from and return to. But you can call it Heaven, the universe, or some make-believe fairy-tale land if that’s your thing.