Sister of Darkness

by R. H. Stavis

  I adore animals not just because they’re cute and furry and, most of the time, easier to deal with than people, but also because they’re so high frequency. Like children, they expect the best of everyone, and even when they’re in pain or suffering, they’re gracious. Their owner might leave them outside in the cold overnight, or hit them for no reason, yet they’ll still look up at them with big, innocent eyes and plead for that person to be kind to them. After getting burned one too many times they might cower when a human approaches them, but as soon as they get some good scratches behind the ears, all is forgiven and forgotten.

  Because they’re so close to Source, animals also don’t attract entities. Animals definitely see them, though, and if I’m in a room with one of my pets when an entity passes through, I can watch his gaze follow the entity’s path. But never, not once, has an entity stopped, turned around, and tried to attach to one of my brood.

  Many years ago I had a cat named Isis. I’d adopted her when I lived in Florida and found her in a parking lot crouched under my car. She was so scared that I couldn’t bear to shoo her off, so I went to a local pet store, bought a carrier, and with the help of one of the store’s employees, lured her into it. I drove her to the vet, who announced that she was pregnant. I took her home, midwifed a litter of kittens, and soon adopted them out. Isis followed me to Colorado, then LA, and was with me as I began my journey to performing exorcisms.

  A few years ago, a friend of mine had a Wraith. Like all entities, Wraiths are attached to you, but unlike many others, they’re not actually in your body. Instead, they have a long cord that extends from their form into yours, allowing them to move around space without interruption. The cord resembles a tentacle, or in some cases, multiple tentacles. The entity never travels far and certainly never disconnects because it needs to keep feeding.

  One night, when my friend was visiting, Isis came out from a hiding spot under a table, saw the Wraith floating through the space near my friend, and absolutely lost her mind. Her fur shot up, and she began growling and hissing, like she was gearing up for a catfight.

  “What the hell is wrong with your cat?” my friend asked, confused. He’d never seen Isis behave this way.

  Of course, I knew the answer, but I refused to say, “Well, it’s because you have this nasty entity extending out from you, and if you don’t let me exorcise it, she’s going to continue freaking out.” I never try to push my friends into exorcisms. Ultimately, coming to see me to deal with your demons is your decision, and while I may gently imply that you may need my services, I’ll never guilt or scare you into using them.

  “She just senses something she doesn’t like that’s near you,” I finally said. “We can talk about it if you like.”

  Poor Isis started losing her hair that night. It fell off in clumps as she began to lick herself obsessively. She was a stressed-out mess, the likes of which I’d never seen before. My friend continued to come over, just as he always had, and Isis was almost hairless within a few weeks.

  Finally, I decided to push my friend toward a decision.

  “Look,” I said, “you have a low-level entity, and if you’d like I can remove it. This would help Isis as much as you.”

  Thankfully, he agreed with me, and after his exorcism, he and Isis felt better right away. My poor old cat’s hair grew back in a few weeks, in fact.

  I can’t prove this, but I strongly believe that there’s a link between trauma and an animal’s ability to see entities. Isis had been abandoned while she was pregnant, and her awareness—and fear of—my friend’s Wraith was acute. I have a dog named Izzy who is so sensitive to energy that she’s anxious all the time, holing herself away in her crate at the end of the day, then staying there all night. I’ve watched her when there are entities in the room with her, and she seizes up, then darts into her crate. I know she sees everything, and I think it’s no coincidence that she had a terrible life when she was young. For her first four years, she was an abused backyard breeder dog, living in horrendous conditions, giving birth to babies again and again and watching them ripped away from her weeks too soon. She experienced trauma, and now she’s all too aware of beings that feed off what comes out of tragedy.

  I can’t say for sure whether this holds true for humans, too, but I don’t believe so, mainly because I’ve had many clients who’ve experienced terrible traumas yet can’t see entities. Animals are purer, and they live in the present, through their Heart Space, more easily than we do, which is why I think they can see things we can’t.

  Animals have a much wider range of knowledge than anyone gives them credit for. Much as they can sense when a person is sad, or have been known to detect tumors or illnesses before they’ve been diagnosed, they can perceive subtle energy shifts in the way many humans can’t because they’re coming from a place of ego. Animals will go up to a person and growl at them, and no one will know why. It’s because they don’t like that person’s energy.

  This doesn’t just happen with dogs or cats, either. Pigs, cows, and horses are highly intelligent creatures, and they go back into Source after they die just like humans do. They’re innocent and spiritually pure, and for that reason, I’ve tried for years to stay away from animal products. There’s just so much suffering in the meat, egg, and dairy industry, and at this point in my life, I’ve moved to such a high-minded place that I really don’t want to be a part of that.

  Now that you have a clear sense of what an entity is, what motivates it, and, most important, how Source plays into that ecosystem, let’s move on to how I perform exorcisms.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Ins and Outs of Exorcisms

  Now that I’ve been performing exorcisms for almost ten years, I’ve learned a few things. First, that entities aren’t as strong as you might imagine. They might look like the stuff of nightmares, and make you feel like you’ve been drained of the essence of life—but in reality, they aren’t as horrible as they want you to believe. That’s one of the reasons I can always remove them.

  Second, everyone’s exorcism is completely different. I’ve done some exorcisms that lasted less than half an hour and took only a little of my energy, and some that spanned two days and left me utterly spent for more than a month. Most last about an hour, however, and all end with the glorious destruction of an entity.

  Finally, I’ve learned that even though no two exorcisms are alike, almost all follow the same basic pattern. Because of this, I’ve developed my own blueprint for fighting them.

  Who I See

  I don’t have a fancy website, a toll-free number, a dedicated, exorcist-specific Facebook page, or even an office. Instead, all my clients find me through word of mouth, so I typically know something about them when they come to meet me. Even though I may not have met them, there’s a good chance I’ll have a notion of what they do, where they like to spend their downtime, or even what they’ve been going through in their personal lives. In some cases, I’ll have next to no information. To be honest, this is my preference, for the reasons I’ll describe below.

  Well over half of my clients are high-profile celebrity types, so almost everything about them can be found online, in the tabloids, or even on the national news. These are busy people, so I may know a month in advance that I’m going to be meeting them. But in that time, I try very, very hard not to expose myself to anything about them. I don’t watch their movies, and I don’t google them. I even steer clear of conversations where their names might come up. I don’t just avoid public information, though; I also try not to let even the slightest thought of these very public figures enter my head.

  Why do I go to these lengths? Because I want their exorcisms to be authentic. Everything I learn about the person during their exorcism should come from Spirit. During an exorcism, I feel out facts about a client’s life—whether they’re having relationship problems or that they were sexually abused as a child—and that information can’t be clouded by outside influences or information.

  Coin
cidentally, I put on blinders when I write as well. When I’m working on a book or a screenplay, I won’t read anything that has even the slightest connection with what I’m putting on the page. I want my words to come purely from Spirit, unaffected by anyone else’s work.

  Honestly, I don’t care who you are when you set up an appointment with me. You could be the mousiest, most insignificant person in the world, who hasn’t left her house or contributed to society in the last ten years, but if you need my help, I can’t wait to make things better for you. I also don’t ask for payment. I charge by donation only, because I believe everyone—rich, middle class, or desperately poor—deserves to live their best life, entity-free.

  All I need from a client is for them to be 100 percent willing. If your husband has forced you to make an appointment with me against your deepest wishes, my methods will not be effective. I often receive calls from folks saying something like, “My brother is such a problem. He’s so dark and toxic, and he’s ripping my family apart because of his actions. Yet, he doesn’t want to change. Can you help him?” I’m so sorry, but I cannot. That kind of work is not a good use of my time. Your brother has to want to see me. Otherwise he’s going to resist his exorcism emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically, and even though I might kill myself removing his entities, he’s going to walk out the door and immediately welcome those forces right back because he hasn’t changed his own energy.

  Let me be crystal clear, however, that being willing is very different than being open. I meet many people who are closed up for whatever reason. They may have been abandoned as children, they may have deep-seated trust issues, have been abused or be painfully shy by nature. They might simply be skeptical about me, believing that no one (especially a tattooed “exorcist” wearing a skull T-shirt) can truly help them. As long as they are willing to open up to the idea that I might help, then I’m eager to try.

  When I meet with closed-off clients, I know their exorcism is going to be exhausting and tough. Either they’re so full of malevolent entities that I won’t be able to see the source of the darkness inside them, or they’re so guarded that they’re going to repeatedly resist opening up to me. In the first case, I know I’ll always succeed and perform a top-notch exorcism—it’s just going to take me a little longer. But in the second case, I’ll need my client to work with me. I may ask them if they’re nervous about what’s about to happen, and then explain the process. Or I’ll talk about myself and use examples from my life to put them at ease.

  Sometimes I’ll share information I’m getting from Spirit that’s specific about them. Nine times out of ten my clients are surprised and emotional when they hear this, so I try to speak in general terms. I don’t want them to feel on the spot, bombarded, or on guard. I’ll say, “Often, people experience this when this happens” instead of being specific and mentioning their exact situation. They need to feel comfortable, so I may also light a fire or candles in my Spirit Room to create atmosphere. Then I might explain everything they’re about to experience. I coax them to let their guard down and trust, even the tiniest bit. If I can sense, deep down, that a client is happy to unleash the entities that have been plaguing them, they’re going to walk out of my Spirit Room a changed person.

  Why and How I Do What I Do: The Nitty-Gritty

  I honestly don’t much care about my reputation, and it’s not because, as a nondenominational exorcist, I’m pretty much the only game in town. If people think I’m a fraud, I’m not bothered in the least. I know I’m not. And when my clients come out of an exorcism feeling better than they have in years, they know I’m not. In my book, that’s all the proof anyone needs.

  I need to be as egoless as possible in everything I do because, if I am, I’m more likely to be guided by Spirit. Source holds the essential truths of how to better a person’s life. It wants my client—and during your exorcism, me—to embrace what will help him or her improve, heal, and thrive. If I can’t be an egoless vessel who connects to Spirit without interruption, I’m not doing my job successfully, and I’m not going to be able to clear out entities.

  Authenticity isn’t just about being spiritually fit, though. I also need to feel physically well—but doesn’t mean treating my body like a temple. Juice cleanses aren’t for everyone, and you don’t need to be “pure” to connect to Spirit. So while I eat well and exercise, I’m human. I eat pizza. I drink scotch. I just try to keep myself generally healthy so I’m clearheaded. That also goes for sleep. When I set up a meeting with a client, I insist that it occur at a time when I’m well rested. I won’t do an exorcism late at night—or, God forbid, in the middle of the night—unless it’s an emergency.

  Spirit sends me messages about future clients before they come in for their exorcism—sometimes months in advance, other times the week or day of their exorcism, and other times right when they step into my house. It’s always different. Spirit might pass on random, hard-to-pinpoint information like colors or feelings, or I might receive a message from one of their deceased relatives that relates to the kind of person they are or what they’re going through. For example, if I have a client who was adopted (which I may or may not know already), their biological grandmother or mother—or anyone who’s passed and is connected to their initial abandonment—might visit me a week or two in advance to give me hints about what my client may be struggling with or the old traumas that are pulling him or her down. If a deceased spirit is particularly powerful, they may even come to me months beforehand.

  Sometimes, setting up an appointment with a client is a real struggle, especially with busy celebrities. Their assistants will be adamant that their boss can only see me at one very particular time, and that kind of conversation never goes well.

  “Let’s do next Thursday. She’s got a shoot at seven A.M., then a lunch at noon, and a meeting with her agent at five, so it has to be three and can’t go more than an hour and a half,” the assistant will tell me.

  “It has to be at four,” I’ll respond.

  “Four P.M. is never going to work.”

  “Then pick another day, because I know for sure that four is the only time for this.”

  Click. Then they’ll call back ten minutes later, with their boss’s schedule clear as day.

  I’m a bossy lady, but I don’t act this way because I want to be in charge. I make these demands because Spirit has told me that 4 P.M. is the time when this particular client will be most open and receptive to being cleansed. It’s the precise hour that Source will give me the tools and guidance to rid them of their entities. I don’t care who you are or how many demands there are on your time. If you need my help, you have to listen to what I’m saying. I haven’t always had this gift—Spirit gave it to me over time—but now it’s particularly acute.

  Depending on the client and the issues they’re facing—as revealed by the messages I’ve received from Spirit—I’ll give instructions about what to do before an exorcism. I tell some people to meditate beforehand, and I tell others not to eat meat. I insist that a lot of my clients fast the day before, and I tell others not to wear metal because it emanates a particular frequency.

  When a client comes to my house, I take them out back to my Spirit House, which is where I work even when I’m not performing exorcisms. Los Angeles is an expensive place to live, and, for me, even more so because exorcisms have to occur in a space with a separate entrance. My work is dangerous, and I don’t want to subject my pets—or my home—to other people’s low frequencies or the dark energies of entities during an exorcism. It’s best to have a space outside that’s its own room (like a pool house or guest cottage) so that the energy can be contained until it’s destroyed.

  I didn’t figure this out right away; it took time and experience. I had a few clumsy exorcisms where items moved around the room, there were dozens of strange noises, and my mood went up and down just a bit too much. These were mostly annoying incidents caused by minor entities, but I soon realized that if I controlled the environ
ment of my Spirit Room, I could stabilize an exorcism to a certain degree. In the beginning of my career I didn’t set up my Spirit Room to contain energy, so it traveled out the door and into my house, which wasn’t ideal. I also put all my candles on plates, and I knocked into them all the time, got wax everywhere, and set things (including myself) on fire. Now I always enclose candles in lanterns.

  I prefer a place with an apex roof, simply because it makes the room feel bigger, but it’s not necessary. I just move around a lot—especially on the perimeter of a client’s body—so it’s best that I don’t feel cramped. I also need somewhere where I can fit a queen-size bed and built-in shelving for all my “equipment.” I use herb blends, incense, candles, crystals, and stones during exorcisms, and I need somewhere to store them that’s within my reach. I even have a sword and dagger stashed away near my tools. As I did with my client who’d fallen for a pickup artist’s scams, I may use them to symbolically cut energetic connections between a very malevolent entity and its host.

  Scattered around my Spirit Room are lanterns, godlike idols and statues, skulls, ceremonial masks from many cultures, and paintings with religious iconography. These items all have particular meaning to me, and Spirit channels itself through all of them. I’ve found all of them at yard sales, or I’ve happened upon them while I was out doing something else, and just the other day I was at the Rose Bowl Flea Market and found a magnificent table with angels and roses painted on it. It’s from the 1940s. When I asked Spirit, “Why do I need this?” it told me, “Because it was used by a tarot reader in a traveling carnival. She read cards on it.” It has a drawer, and that’s where I now keep my own tarot deck.

  I have to have a bathroom a few steps away because, unfortunately, exorcisms can be messy work. I estimate that one out of every ten clients vomits after or during theirs, and they certainly don’t want to do that in a paper bag or bucket. They’re often embarrassed by this, even though I try to put them at ease. When I tell clients I’ve seen it all, that’s exactly what I mean. And I can tell you a bathroom is necessary.