Read Beware the Night Online

Authors: Ralph Sarchie

Beware the Night (13 page)

According to the family, a policeman had told them that the previous owner of the house was a Satanist. This man’s wife worked nights and left their two young sons with their father. Nothing wrong with that, except that he and his satanic coven were sexually molesting the boys. As if that weren’t horrible enough, the group began sacrificing living creatures to their god, the Devil. Right in front of the little boys, they slaughtered a frog. Now, some of you may scoff at that, thinking “A frog? Who cares about a frog?”

While killing a frog would be more than enough to terrorize two children, I saw this act for what it was, a practice run for something infinitely worse. Eventually the group allegedly killed a baby. No, it was never proven, but the police detective who investigated was convinced it really did happen. But the law is set up so that if no evidence or body is found, no crime has been committed—which is just what these Satanists counted on. The only people who saw the ritual murder were two kids, and in the eyes of the law, little children don’t make good witnesses. The boys told police that the infant was stabbed repeatedly, put into a box, and thrown in a creek down the street. Cops found the box, but no blood or mutilated corpse, so ultimately they had to close the case, after a thorough search failed to turn up a body.

I suspected that these devil-worshippers were what we call “organized Satanists.” Organized Satanists will go to great lengths to hide the bodies of their victims, to avoid detection and prosecution. This is easily done, since these Satanists are often professional people—doctors, lawyers, politicians, men and women who are well off in the money department, or even judges and police officers. So these groups have all sorts of resources at their disposal to evade justice, at least on Earth.

Now, all this is conjecture—and it’s perfectly possible that no baby was ever murdered. Either way, the police had enough probable cause to lock their animal of a dad up for child abuse—and get him away from both society and his own flesh and blood. What he’d done, however, was wicked enough to draw one of the evil spirits that prowl this world—seeking the doom of souls—and turn another innocent family into the Devil’s prey.

I checked the entire first floor, then made my way to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs was Monique’s room: a typical girl’s bedroom, with everything frilly and nice. I wandered into other areas of the basement, which was very large and divided into several rooms. The main one had a television and a bar in the corner, and was as immaculate as the rest of the house. Off to the side was a laundry room. As soon as I entered, I stopped dead in my tracks, gripped by an overpowering dread. The atmosphere of menace was so overpowering that every hair on my head stood on end. I got the hell out of there, fast.

You can sense evil: Your whole body responds to it. The demonic know how to create the maximum amount of terror in each person, because they know your weaknesses. In this case, the room was just an ordinary laundry room in appearance, but the feeling of terror and hatred was overpowering. I’m not psychic like Brother Andrew, but most of the time I
can
sense the presence of the demonic: It’s an unnatural feeling that assaults your senses. A lot of people describe it as an eerie or creepy feeling that something is very wrong.

Later in the investigation, I learned the police detective had told the family that this was the room used by the satanic coven. I didn’t need anybody to tell
me
that: Something in that room had already put my entire body on red alert. My adrenaline pumping, I hurried out of the basement but was drawn again to the bedroom by the stairs, which now reeked of a sickeningly sweet perfume. Upstairs, I asked Monique if she or anyone else had just been down there.

She said no, then got very excited when I mentioned the heavy scent in her room. In a triumphant tone, as if this were all the proof anyone would need to believe the horrors in her house were real, she said, “You smelled it too? That happens to us all the time!”

I was touched by her obvious sincerity—and felt certain that this was not a case of infestation, but of
oppression,
the second phase of the demonic M.O. The fiendish objective of this stage is to literally scare people out of their wits with a bombardment of unbearably frightening phenomena designed to dehumanize the demonic’s hapless targets, until they can no longer fight off the evil spirit that is trying to possess them. Oppression is infestation multiplied by a thousand: Where there were formerly little scratchings or tappings, you now have deafening poundings that literally shake the entire house. No longer is one person singled out for supernatural assaults; the whole family is affected. Phase two of the diabolical strategy goes well beyond instilling doubt and fear in a single family member; the entire house feels hostile to all who enter.

Infestation is an external assault: It causes physical phenomena as the demonic manipulate objects. Oppression has two parts: While the outward manifestations continue and intensify, there’s also a more sinister aspect that’s not visible to the eye. Infestation affects the physical house; oppression goes beyond and “haunts” those who live there. No one escapes the torments. Oppression is an all-out assault on the senses that makes terror a constant companion in the very place where you expect to feel safest: your home. Sleep becomes virtually impossible. Large, potentially dangerous objects, like washing machines or refrigerators, may be lifted up and flung at you by invisible hands. Not only will footsteps be heard, but they’ll walk right by the people in the house, brushing your body with a chill that’s colder than cold.

Then, just as it seems that things can’t possibly get any worse, they do. Your loved ones are assaulted even when they leave the home. The car seems to develop a mind of its own, causing accidents and harrowing close calls. Horrifying phenomena start occurring at work—if you have the strength to go to your job at all. The people in your house suffer the physical fury of the infernal force: They may be slapped, punched, scratched, bitten, knocked to the ground, burned, or battered with flying objects. Should your family try to flee, the demonic assailant will stick to you like a second shadow and raise unholy havoc wherever you go. Your relatives cease to exist as distinct individuals within this hell on Earth—instead, your entire being is constantly fighting a desperate battle for survival.

This is just the
beginning
of oppression. During the initial stage of demonic invasion, the attacks are external: unsettling noises, acts of supernatural vandalism, and malicious mischief. Later on, however, the satanic power turns to savage psychological warfare: Objects vanish before your eyes, you gag as your room fills with a revolting stench of rotting flesh or excrement; and you tremble as hideous wraiths manifest in front of you. Your belongings are not only moved around but are smashed in front of your eyes. The world of nightmares becomes your reality: Not a day goes by without some ghastly new horror.

You—or a family member—experience a degrading change in personality: You may develop an aversion to church and anything sacred. Sinful urges become stronger, more frequent, and all but impossible to resist. Maybe you’re plunged into behavior that’s both strangely gratifying and unspeakably shameful. In a futile effort to evade the ever-present demon, you may drink to excess, turn to drugs, or try to lose yourself in promiscuous sex, each time giving the diabolical force another foothold into your soul. Or perhaps another family member crumbles under the unendurable stress: A once-loving spouse or child becomes increasingly withdrawn, turns cold and hateful, or is suddenly beset by violent, uncontrollable rages. This person may even experience transient possession—transient because his or her will has not yet broken down enough for full possession to occur. While under the sway of the satanic spirit, he or she may brutally attack family members or inflict horrifying injuries on him- or herself, including suicide.

The demonic are brilliant manipulators and will exploit any moral, emotional, or mental weakness in the humans they prey on. Some specialize in a particular sin, primarily the deadly seven: anger, envy, pride, sloth, gluttony, avarice, and lust. With diabolical ingenuity, these forces of darkness seize on our basest instincts and worst temptations and twist them around into attacks of stunning power and perversity.

*   *   *

By now Ed and Lorraine had arrived, with one of their students from Connecticut. A few minutes later Monique’s grandmother, Maggie, who lived nearby, dropped by to lend moral support. As I set up the videocamera, the Warrens introduced themselves to the six residents of the house: Claudia, who managed a hotel; her live-in boyfriend, Artie, who worked as a moving man; her fifteen-year-old niece, Jessica; and her three daughters: seventeen-year-old Monique, and thirteen-year-old twins, Carolyn and Marybeth. While you’d expect twins to look alike, all four girls had an uncanny resemblance to each other, like those Russian dolls that open up to reveal smaller and smaller versions of the same figure.

Unlike the young widow, who was blonde and disguised her distress under elaborate makeup, you had to wonder when any of these kids had last pulled a comb through her unruly brown hair, or taken a shower. Of course that’s not necessarily abnormal for a teenager, but the expression on their faces was definitely disturbing. I’d seen it dozens of times before on victims of both human and inhuman crimes: a vacant, thousand-yard stare.

To encourage these tortured, traumatized souls to talk, Ed decided to question each of them privately in the family room, while I moved around the house, sometimes escorting family members up and down from the basement and sometimes keeping them company in the kitchen as they awaited their turn.

Monique spoke first, explaining that the trouble began just before her first Christmas without her father—a time when demonic activity typically peaks, because evil spirits are enraged and inflamed by the holiness of the season. There was nothing subtle about the spirit’s opening salvo: raucous pounding on her night table, as if an unseen force were sending Morse code messages: three violent thumps, then a series of rhythmic raps. “I thought someone had broken into the house and was going to kill me,” the teenager said in a hollow, expressionless voice. “I broke out in a sweat and was afraid to open my eyes.”

This isn’t typical of infestation,
I thought. There was nothing subtle about this.
It seemed that this demon was so powerful that it had skipped right to oppression.

Squirming shyly on the couch, in agonies of teenaged embarrassment at what she was about to reveal, the girl reported that she had heard—and felt—something breathing heavily on her ear as she lay in bed. “In a raspy, decrepit voice that sounded thousands of years old, it said, ‘I want to make love to you!’ It scared me so bad I ran to my mother’s room for help.”

Shame-faced, Claudia admitted that she hadn’t believed a word her daughter said. “I was certain this was a nightmare, so calmed her down and sent her back to bed.”

“But
you
knew it wasn’t a nightmare,” Ed said to the daughter in a kindly tone.

“No one could convince me it was just a dream,” Monique replied, looking Ed firmly in the eye for the first time. “Not my mother, not you, not anybody in the world!” Her big eyes challenged anyone to disagree. I didn’t doubt her truthfulness for a second.

Warm weather brought a brief peace to the house, and Claudia said she’d completely forgotten her daughter’s “bad dream” until she had a horrendous experience of her own the following winter. “I was sleeping by myself—my boyfriend was away—when something came into my room. I felt it breathing loudly on my ear. Then I felt myself falling forever and kept thinking ‘God help me!’ I was paralyzed with terror but knew whatever was in the room with me was pure evil. I was fighting the evil feeling with everything I had.”

I knew this wasn’t sleep paralysis, a rare medical condition that usually starts in childhood and causes people to become temporarily unable to move or speak, either while they’re falling asleep or as they’re waking up. Not only was everyone in the house affected, but terrifying phenomena were also taking place during the day, while the family was awake.

Closing her eyes briefly, as if to consult images on her eyelids, Claudia resumed her story. “I thought I got out of bed at this point and saw my children flickering on the walls as if they were floating. I tried to speak to Carolyn and Marybeth, but no sound came out of my mouth. The furniture looked all wavy and transparent. When I got to the kitchen telephone, I dialed my mother’s number, but the person who picked up was my dead husband! ‘Hello,’ he said, and I screamed, ‘Hurry home and help me!’ As soon as I spoke, I was back in bed again.”

Watching Ed closely, trying to gauge his reaction, she asked, “Do you think this was an out-of-body experience?”

Ed agreed it might be, but felt he had to make an important point. “The voice you heard was
not
your late husband! It was a demon
speaking
in his voice.” The evil force was using a frightening, but also oddly reassuring disguise for its malevolent intentions. I’ve heard of this happening in other cases, where the phone would ring and the voice of a dead relative would be heard on the line. This is a most cruel and confusing tactic of the demonic.

When I returned to the kitchen, something peculiar happened. I was facing the dining room, where double doors led out to the patio. Since it was now dark, the glass doors were like a mirror, reflecting everything in the room. A sudden movement caught my eye: A shapeless black mass glided from right to left inside the room, right in front of these doors, then disappeared through the wall. True to my police training, I immediately went out on the patio to search for an intruder. There was no one—no one human, anyway.

That wasn’t the first time I’d seen a strange shadow like this. People often ask if I ever saw any ghosts or demons when I was growing up. Actually, it was only after I entered the Work that I started having preternatural experiences. Once you give the demonic recognition, you draw them to you—something I didn’t realize when I began this Work. Now I understand that when you get involved in investigations, you cross a line, and once you cross it, you can never go back. The chances are high that you will be disturbed and harassed in your own home, because the demonic never forget and never stop seeking revenge.

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