Paranormal Intruder
The True Story of a Family in Fear
Caroline Mitchell
Copyright © 2013 by Caroline Mitchell
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Author: Caroline Mitchell
www.caroline-writes.com
Email: [email protected]
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Publisher’s Note: Names with an asterisk* for the first instance denotes they have been changed to shield the identity and maintain the privacy of those involved. All other names are actual.
Paranormal Intruder / Caroline Mitchell. -- 1st ed.
Table of Contents
Praise for Paranormal Intruder
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
FOREWORD
CHAPTER ONE - The First Call
CHAPTER TWO - Help, Please
CHAPTER THREE - Recall
CHAPTER FOUR - A Glimmer of Hope
CHAPTER FIVE - Mediums & Misunderstandings
CHAPTER SIX - A Bad Premonition
CHAPTER SEVEN - Voices From Beyond
CHAPTER EIGHT - Frustration
CHAPTER NINE - Searching for Help
CHAPTER TEN - The Investigators
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Out of Control
CHAPTER TWELVE - The Firefighters
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Faced With Evil
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - The Darkest Day
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Desperate Measures
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Stranger & Stranger
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Tap Once For Yes
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Conversations With The Dead
CHAPTER NINETEEN - A Fearful Journey
CHAPTER TWENTY - The Exorcism
Neil
Caroline
Mark Coughlan
Tracey Greenwood
Paul Brassey
Stafford
Chris Botragyi
Valerie Coughlan
Lee Lough-Atkins
John F. Triplow
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dedicated to my husband Neil – courage is not the absence of fear, but triumph over it.
Praise for Paranormal Intruder
Caroline Mitchell's story of paranormal encounters in her own home is simply astonishing, mesmorising and scary. The fact Caroline had the bravery to expose and reveal this unusual phenomenon whilst still being a police officer is quite courageous. I highly recommend this extraordinary story.
Uri Geller
www.uri-geller.com
Caroline Mitchell reminds us that truth is indeed stranger than fiction, and events of extreme strangeness are rarely as well witnessed and well described as in this remarkable book.
Guy Lyon Playfair
Author of This House is Haunted
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to express my gratitude to the many people who saw me through this book; to all those who provided support, talked things over, read, wrote, offered comments, allowed me to quote their remarks and assisted in the editing, proofreading and design.
To my wonderful editors Shelly Tegen and Holly Kammier, thank you for answering all of my stupid questions with patience, and encouraging me every step of the way.
I would like to thank Brian Cross and Daniel Wilson for proofreading services.
Thanks to Heidi Sutherlin for her cover design, and the team at FormattingExperts.com - without you this book would never find its way to the Web.
To investigator Mike Hallowell and his team – thank you for coming to our aid when we were lost. Your calm friendly manner was a beacon of light amidst the storm.
I would like to thank my dearest family, friends and colleagues who supported me throughout our ordeal. It’s been quite a journey.
Last and not least: For all those who have supported me, whose names I have failed to mention.
FOREWORD
I’ve been investigating the paranormal for over forty years. I’ve chased down giant eels in Switzerland, Bigfoot in Louisiana and mystery big cats in Northumberland. I’ve written over a dozen books and 2,000 articles, columns and features on the supernatural, as well as appearing in countless TV and radio shows. I say this not to brag, but merely to illustrate that I’ve been around the block not once, but several times, when it comes to paranormal research.
Have I witnessed preternatural phenomena myself? Yes I have, and I’m no longer courteous with the sceptics who dismiss them so blithely. They weren’t there. And so they don’t know.
Every now and then, one comes across a case which rises above all others. In 2006 I investigated the now-infamous South Shields Poltergeist case with my colleague Darren W. Ritson. The phenomena were so intense I recall saying to Darren, “We’ll never get another case like this”. I was wrong.
What you are about to read in this book is the truth about what I believe to be one of the worst cases of paranormal intrusion in recorded history. I’ll go further than that, in fact, and state unequivocally that I know of no other of such intensity. When my colleague John F. Triplow and I first began our investigation, at the behest of the householders, we had no idea what we were letting ourselves in for. Our initial conclusion was that the family at the epicentre of the affair was being troubled by an extremely venomous poltergeist. But there were certain things which, we realised later, just didn’t fit the typical poltergeist model. Every reader must draw their own conclusions about the nature of the entity which invaded that ordinary suburban dwelling, but there can be no doubt about its character and abilities.
The entity was – is – extremely malignant, highly dangerous and unsettlingly intelligent. I have seen fires light spontaneously and objects move, heard disembodied voices chattering out of the ether and received intimidating, threatening messages on my phone from this invisible creature. I have seen it manifest itself as the identical double of one of the witnesses – in view of myself and several others – and recorded it physically beating up one of the householders inside a motor car.
This entity is an expert in toying with humans. It has removed objects from the pockets of several people and placed them in the pockets of others without them noticing. It can make jokes and demonstrate a wry, dry sense of humour one minute, and the next create a sense of unbridled panic in those present.
The family at the centre of all this mayhem has coped phenomenally well, considering. Many others would have buckled at the knees and moved. They didn’t. They decided to stay and fight. The strength of this case lies in the number of witnesses, including several police officers, and the sheer volume of incidents. To suggest that the whole affair was somehow stage-managed or hoaxed is patently ludicrous.
I know of no other case in history which rivals this one, and that is a very big statement to make indeed. However, I make this assertion because I’ve been there and witnessed its most horrible aspects with my own eyes. I know that this volume does not contain every incident – it would need several thousand pages to do that – but it presents the essence of this case very well. You will find this book disturbing. It is quite literally the nature of the beast I’m afraid, but you will also find it presents hope to those who are undergoing similar terrors. If this volume, written by eyewitnesses at the centre of the paranormal maelstrom, does not change the way you view the world then you are living in denial. If it wakens within you a belief that there is more to our world than that which we can see, and that not all of
it is pleasant, then it will have served us well indeed.
Mike Hallowell
Author, columnist and freelance broadcaster
CHAPTER ONE
The First Call
The biggest question loomed in my mind like a dark cloud… who is going to help us? Emergency services were good for many things, but nothing of this nature. There was no point calling the police… I was the police – and a fat lot of good I was. Frustration bit into me. I faced tough things in my career and never backed down. Yet here I was, almost forty years of age, being frightened out of my home by something I could not even see.
The day had started off normally. Sitting at my computer in the rural police station, my fingers froze over the keyboard as my mobile phone vibrated in my pocket. My husband’s name flashed up on the display. Neil rarely called me at work and I instinctively knew something was wrong. ‘Hello?’ I said.
Neil’s voice came breathy and urgent. ‘Caroline? Something’s happening in the house, I think it’s haunted.’
I struggled to comprehend him. ‘What are you talking about? Are the kids OK?’
Neil’s footsteps echoed against our wooden floor as he paced. ‘Yeah they’re fine. Lee is here with me. You won’t believe what’s been going on.’
I guessed Lee called around for a chat. Despite the ten-year age gap, Lee was a good friend to Neil, and they shared the same boyish sense of humour. I had a thought. Are they playing a prank on me? A call from my airwave radio requesting my attendance to an urgent incident drew my attention away.
‘I’m sorry Neil, I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back.’ I ended the call and shoved the phone back into my pocket. The day flew as I raced from one incident to another. I returned to the station at the end of my shift and noticed several missed calls from Neil on my phone. I frowned as I played back my voicemail. Neil’s voice grew more panicked with each message, describing ghostly occurrences in our home. This was no joke. My priority was the children, who were with his parents in nearby Clacton. Neil was stepfather to two of our four children and I trusted him to keep them safe. But safe from what? We had been together for over ten years, and I knew him to be a solid and reliable man. His garbled messages left me dumbfounded. The station door creaked open as my colleague Stafford walked in.
‘Right, that’s me finished for the day,’ he said, removing his hat. He ran his hands through his mop of silver hair and updated control that he was off duty.
‘You’re not going to believe this,’ I said. ‘Apparently my house is haunted.’
Stafford raised an eyebrow in my direction. ‘Really? What’s going on?’
‘I don’t know. Could you do me a favour and meet me at home? I know it sounds stupid, but if something’s happening I’d like you to be there. I’ll run the risk of getting sectioned if I come back and start telling people about this.’
‘Sure mate that should be interesting,’ Stafford said with a wry grin, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
I heaved a sigh of relief as I prepared to leave. Stafford was reasonably open-minded, and it would be good to have an independent witness present. I dumped my kit bag in my locker and walked outside to the front steps of the station. An empty beer can rattled across the street, carried by the cold wind. Zipping up my jacket, I lowered my head to avoid the bitter cold as I crossed the street to Neil, parked up in our car.
‘What are you all doing here?’ I said, surprised to see Neil’s mother Valerie and his friend Lee in the car. I scooted into the back seat beside Lee, noticing his pale, drawn expression. Lee’s long legs were tucked uncomfortably in front of him and he nodded in acknowledgement as he gnawed on his thumbnail. I was tempted to say he looked as though he had seen a ghost, but thought better of it. Valerie turned her head from the front seat to greet me.
‘Nobody wanted to be left in the house,’ she said, with a hint of amusement on her lips.
‘Don’t worry, the children are safe at mine.’
Knowing the children were safe with their granddad helped me to relax and the journey home gave me time to think. I struggled to believe our house could be haunted. We lived in a new two-storey house in a rural village. What could be sinister about that? But Neil and Lee were unlikely to be scared easily. They worked in security and were not faint-hearted by any means. I dismissed the tangle of thoughts in my mind, deciding to wait and see for myself.
The car pulled into the drive, and I got out and stretched my legs. I glanced up at the red brick building we called home. Stafford was standing outside as promised, his broad figure casting a shadow in the fading sun. I unlocked the front door and walked into the hall cautiously. It was bright and airy, no different than usual. I opened the living room door on my right. *David’s toys were scattered on the floor where he left them in front of the fireplace that morning. For all of his four years, David was adept at making each room his own. Pausing in the doorway, my eyes darted around the room. Mustering up all my bravado, I strolled inside with a grin on my face.
‘C’mon then, where’s this ghost?’ My question was answered by a loud crack of smashing glass coming from the kitchen. ‘What was that?’ I yelped, my bravado melting away. Neil, Lee, Stafford and Valerie were standing in the living room with me. So who – or what – was in the kitchen? Walking through to our adjoined dining room, we made our way towards the kitchen. I tentatively opened the door to investigate the source of the noise. ‘Oh my God, look at all my cups,’ I cried to the empty room. It looked as if someone had been celebrating a Greek wedding in our kitchen. Pieces of crockery and broken glass lay scattered all over our tiled floor.
‘You could have cleaned it up Neil,’ I said as he walked in behind me.
Neil rolled his eyes. ‘It was the least of my worries. Anyway, I left it there so you could see what happened.’ I realised how frightening it must have been at home that morning. Reality sunk in and I felt guilty for being so dismissive earlier in the day.
‘Oh. Sorry.’
Neil looked at me with an ‘I told you so’ expression. ‘Now do you believe me?’
I slid my arm around his waist to apologise. There was no way he would have caused so much damage as part of any strange prank.
‘Let’s get this mess sorted out,’ Valerie said, reaching for the sweeping brush. Without warning, a half empty cup flew off the table in the dining room and crashed against the wooden floor with a bang. Coffee dribbled down the oak floorboards, and shards of crockery glinted in the aftermath. I yelped as a giddy feeling of excitement and fright bubbled up inside me.
‘Oh my heart,’ I groaned, splaying my hands across my chest. It pounded through my shirt, and I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.
‘Bloody hell that was loud, how did that happen?’ Stafford said.
‘I’m glad you’ve witnessed it,’ Neil said. He beckoned us from the dining room to the kitchen. ‘Now I want to show you something.’ He drew our attention to a large knife embedded in the lip of the kitchen drawer.
‘How did that end up there?’ I asked, searching his face for answers.
‘We found it like that. I wanted to leave it there so I could show you how bad it got.’
I felt the blood drain from my body. What if David had walked in? The room began to spin, and the air left my body quicker than I could breathe it in. I leaned against the worktop to steady myself.
‘The children,’ I said, my eyes pleading with Neil’s.
‘It’s OK love. I told you, the children are safe.’
‘And the dogs?’ We confined Lara our cocker spaniel and Lucy our bulldog to the garage to prevent them from walking on the debris.
‘They’re fine; nothing’s been directed towards them or the children.’
‘We need to put this away – it’s dangerous,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should take some pictures so we can show people, in case we need help.’ Neil took a camera from the kitchen drawer. He snapped the photo and put the offending knife away. Valerie and I began cleaning up t
he shattered crockery. ‘You know, this doesn’t look right. The glass is really smashed up. If I'd dropped one of these cups on the floor it wouldn’t have broken like this.’
Valerie nodded. ‘I know. I came down because Neil sounded upset on the phone. Everything he said really happened. Even while I was here, a fork went flying past my shoulder from thin air.’
I placed the broken glass into an empty cardboard box and sealed it up for the bin. ‘It’s so hard to believe. What’s causing it?’
Valerie shrugged her shoulders. ‘We don’t know.’
I had no reason to doubt my mother-in-law. She was the most sensible person I knew and had been like a mother to me since I moved here from Ireland. Despite being in her seventies, she was always there to lend a helping hand. Everything seemed so peculiar. A container of milk balanced eerily on the edge of the open microwave door. I took it down and put it in the fridge. We finished cleaning up and then returned to the living room. ‘What are we going to do now?’ I asked in hopeful anticipation that Neil had devised a plan in my absence. As he opened his mouth to speak, a dull thud came from the direction of the kitchen.
Neil raised his eyebrows. ‘Did you hear that?’
Lee jumped up from the sofa. ‘Let’s go and see what it is.’ Back we went to the kitchen. It was beginning to feel as though someone was playing a game with us.
A large bottle of bleach stood upright in the middle of the kitchen floor. ‘Wasn’t that on the counter a few minutes ago?’ I asked. I stared at the bottle, trying to work out a rational explanation. Tapping my chin with my fingers, I mulled it over in my head. I was the last person to leave the kitchen, and everyone else was in the sitting room. I checked the windows and rattled the handle of the back door, which was locked. Even if the bottle had somehow managed to fall on the floor, it was unlikely to fall in an upright position, especially so far away from the counter. A shiver ran down my spine as the inconceivable became possible. Were we really experiencing the paranormal in our home? I ushered everyone back to the living room. ‘Okay, let’s all leave together and close the doors behind us to see if anything else happens.’ My police training fell into play as I tried to investigate the source of the activity. Turning to leave, a forceful thump hit the floor behind us. Neil jumped with fright, and we ran out the door at the same time. It was almost comical.
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