Deliver Us from Evil (15 page)

“No, it was hairy and huge, like Bigfoot,” the teen insisted. “And it was saying really vulgar things.” She hesitated again and buried her face against her mother's bosom.

Almost inaudibly, she added, “It was masturbating!”

“I thought she was going to have a nervous breakdown,” Claudia said. “She was crying her eyes out.”

Summoning up every ounce of nerve she had, the girl continued, so softly that we could barely hear her murmuring into her mother's chest. “In this really ancient voice, it said, ‘You can kiss your family good-bye, because your ass is mine tonight!'”

“She was completely hysterical,” Claudia said. “She told me she
knew
it was going to rape and kill her that very night.”

Was such an unspeakable atrocity even possible? As a cop and a father myself, there's nothing I loathe more than a child molester. I could hardly imagine the dread that threats of revolting violation and death must have evoked in this timid, haunted girl! Each time I think I have finally grasped the evil of which these demons are capable, they reveal new depths of hatred and depravity that stagger the mind.

Yet I wasn't entirely shocked that this diabolical force was attacking sexually, given the unnatural lust that originally drew it to this house: the brutal molestation of two little boys. Demonic spirits have no gender—they are neither male nor female—but are still capable of rape because they can assume the shape of a person of either sex, complete with genitalia. A demon that takes female form to violate a human male is called a “succubus”; one that sexually oppresses women is an “incubus.” That's what was lurking in this house of women, wantonly exposing itself to a little girl in full sight of her mother!

It's often said that rape isn't a crime of sex but of violence—and that's certainly true for the demonic. They derive no pleasure from the sex act, because the damned never feel joy or delight of any kind. They're doomed to eternal misery and suffering, but they mount incubus or succubus attacks to degrade, humiliate, and further terrify their victims. It's also an insult to God, who created us male and female so we can be fruitful and multiply. Joining as one flesh is part of holy matrimony—and the demonic are driven by a relentless hatred of anything holy.

Any supernatural attack is horrifying, but this has to be the worst. Imagine being sexually assaulted by a hairy brute or a shapeless creature you can't even see. Such an intimate violation is enough to drive you insane. At times, when the attack is over, the victim will have a sticky and vile-smelling substance on his or her skin—the foulest mark of the devil.

While Claudia didn't know all this, she was scared witless by her daughter's plight. With desperate courage, she addressed the incubus. “I'm begging you, as a mother, not to take my child tonight! Whatever cursed thing you are, don't hurt my daughter—hurt
me
, if you must! I'd die right here and now to save my child.”

The only reply was mocking laughter that shook the house. Hoping for divine protection, the single mom called a minister from the Baptist church the family occasionally attended. He referred her to a Catholic priest, saying that what they needed was an exorcism.

The priest, however, wasn't very sympathetic. “How dare you call me at this hour?” he demanded peevishly, even though it was only 9:30
P.M.
After hearing about the growls, baby cries, bloody scratches, and lewd threats from the beyond, his only comment was “Maybe this is God's way of getting you back to church.”

He hung up, leaving Claudia clutching a dead phone. The savior she'd counted on had refused her.
Who else could she possibly call, if even a man of God couldn't—or wouldn't—help?

 

6

THE SATANIC STALKER

Truly, this was a family under siege—attacked at every turn, in ever more horrifying ways. What could they have possibly done to deserve such ghastly punishment? As far as I could tell, their only mistake was buying the wrong house. I didn't believe that they were singled out for satanic wrath for not going to church often enough, as the priest had heartlessly—and erroneously—suggested. After all, there are legions of outright atheists out there—and most of them don't have any problem with the demonic. It was true that Claudia, a widow, was living in sin with her lover, but the world is full of people whose sins are far greater than that but are still spared diabolical retribution. And what about her sweet, scared children—what offense could they have conceivably committed? None that I could see. Yet I also knew that the Devil couldn't possess or oppress anyone without God's permission, since He has ultimate authority over the forces of darkness.

People have often asked me why God allows the demonic to do anything at all, especially to good people. Since I'm a cop—not a theologian—I'll rely on Bishop McKenna's explanation. He points out that the Old Testament addresses the issue of unfair suffering in the story of Job, a virtuous, God-fearing man who was blessed with many children and great wealth. Satan, however, asked if he could tempt Job, and was allowed to strike him down with one misfortune after another—first killing Job's cattle and camels, then all of his children. Although devastated by these losses, Job said, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Again the Devil tempted this innocent man to curse God, by covering him with boils from head to toe. Plunged into despair, Job wished he'd never been born, but remained steadfast in his faith. Three of his friends told him he must be sinful indeed to be so horribly afflicted, prompting him to question God. Out of a whirlwind, the Lord reminded Job of His infinite power and wondrous creations. “Were you there when I founded the earth?… Have you ever, in your lifetime, commanded the morning, and shown the dawn its place?” Humbly, Job repented of doubting the divine plan and was rewarded with a new family, double the riches he'd lost, and an extraordinarily long life.

Beyond that, I can't explain why this particular family was subjected to such trials: It's one of God's mysteries. I simply put my fate in His hands and my faith in His loving protection, knowing that it's only by the grace of God that we can stand in the presence of pure evil and survive.

*   *   *

The hour was growing late and Claudia felt utterly helpless. She had to do something to protect her daughter Marybeth from harm, but what? She'd already tried the prayers her minister recommended, to no avail. Not only was this particular demon so powerful that it could withstand holy words, but it was actually provoked to greater viciousness when she invoked God's name—choosing that moment to slash its mark on Marybeth's smooth face. Fleeing to her brother's house hadn't helped either, and it would be pointless to call the priest again.

When it seemed like there was nowhere to turn, Claudia remembered one final refuge: a place where she'd always felt safe and protected from danger, where there was always someone to soothe away her fears and worries with calm words and comforting arms. Although she was forty years old, had borne three children and buried a husband, Claudia picked up the phone and called her first protector—her mother Maggie. “I know it's almost midnight, but we're coming over,” she said, her voice breaking like a frightened child's. “Please, it's an emergency.”

The demon decided to let loose with some spectral sound effects: first the anguished wail of a baby in unendurable agony, then hideous laughter that rattled the house like an earthquake.

On the other end of the phone, an unseen force bludgeoned Maggie. “The cigarette I was smoking was knocked right out of my mouth and flipped through the air. Outside, I heard unbelievably loud whistling, and something struck the side of the house. There was a tremendous crash, and I saw that a large sculpture of an angel I'd owned for many years had been flung off its shelf and was lying in pieces on the floor. Then a chill went right through me. Three times I felt it, and each time it felt like the chill of death.”

By now mother and daughter were sobbing together over the phone. Like Claudia, the older woman was overcome by the impotent grief and despair of a mother who sees her beloved child in desperate danger but can do nothing to help.

The fiend wasn't finished with Maggie. Her weeping turned into horrible choking gasps, as invisible hands suddenly grabbed her by the throat. “I couldn't breathe, and my eyes were bulging out. I could hear a roaring in my ears and a lot of noise, like heavy furniture was being moved around. I thought I was going to die!”

Just as the older woman was on the verge of passing out, the satanic force released her. She collapsed back in her chair, struggling to catch her breath. At last she could speak again, and told her daughter what had happened.

“Mom, are you okay?” Claudia asked anxiously, and felt somewhat reassured when she heard a breathless yes and the familiar sound of her mother lighting a cigarette.
Taking her kids to her mom's house would be a terrible mistake
, Claudia realized.
Her childhood home was no longer a safe haven. Merely by talking about going there, she'd inadvertently put yet another family member in peril! Was there no limit to this foul creature's malevolence that it could terrorize in two places at once?

As I listened to this story, I was struck by the eerie parallels to another mother-daughter situation—a strange attack on my sister, Lisa, in our mom's house. Soon after I got involved in the Work, my mother and my sister moved to a new house on Long Island. One night Lisa was home alone and would be spending the night by herself. No problem, my then twenty-six-year-old sister thought, since she was a big girl and knew how to handle herself. But this night really put her courage to the test. Jen and I had been by earlier, and neither of us saw or felt anything out of the ordinary. Nor did Lisa feel there was anything to fear when she went into the living room around 9:00
P.M.
, hardly an hour you'd expect the demonic to attack. Yet 9:00
P.M.
to 6:00
A.M.
are considered the “psychic hours,” because that's when supernatural energy is at its peak.

So there was Lisa, unwinding in front of the TV, when suddenly she heard a loud bang coming from the basement. It scared the hell out of her, and she froze in her chair, not daring to go downstairs to investigate. The pounding continued for about five minutes, then abruptly stopped. Finally she convinced herself it was the boiler, went to her bedroom, locked the door, and eventually fell asleep. In the safety of daylight, she got up her nerve and went down to the basement. What she found was extremely unsettling. The basement door, which could be locked or unlocked only with a key, was wide open. The sound she heard must have been the door crashing back and forth—but there was no wind that night!

Naturally, she called me. I was angry that she hadn't contacted me the night before, when she was trembling in her living room chair, but I rushed over to help. I found the door and its lock to be working perfectly, and questioned her about different ways it might have gotten unlocked. She was 100 percent positive that no one had unlocked it—and knowing how security-conscious my mother was, I felt sure it was firmly bolted at all times. I also found no signs of forced entry—and believe me, I've seen lots of burglaries in my time. Still, I wasn't sure if supernatural forces were responsible. Despite the Work, I'm
not
inclined to blame every unexplained event on the demonic. To play it safe, I put some extra locks on the door.

What happened a few nights later left no doubt of diabolic intent. Although my sister steered far clear of the Work and always cut me off if I mentioned a case, saying “I don't want to hear about
that
,” she still fell prey to an evil power. She was sound asleep when something—she didn't know what—woke her in the night. Such was its fury that it grabbed the back of her head and shoved her face into the pillow. To her utter horror, she felt her bed lift off the floor. Too scared even to scream, she thought she'd die right there with our mother sleeping in the next room!

But as suddenly as it started, the attack stopped. With the frantic strength of fear, she leapt from her bed and flicked on the light. There was nobody in the room! After lying awake all night, with every light blazing, she called me first thing in the morning. Now certain that my own sister had been assaulted by a satanic spirit, I again hurried to her house—with, as backup, Bob, a police lieutenant I worked with in East New York who was interested in the Work. Although not a Catholic, he was a very good man and kept watch while I read the Pope Leo XIII prayer in the house. When I got to Lisa's room, the temperature turned very cold. Bob shivered and said, “Ralph, do you feel that?” I nodded, never stopping the prayer. After the final amen, there were no more problems in that house.

There was an odd sequel to this story a few days later. My wife is forever taking photos, and had taken some pictures of my sister in her bedroom before the nightmarish attack. After Jen got them developed, she spent a long time studying one of them. Finally she handed it to me and said, “What is this?” I took a look and almost fell off my chair. The photo showed Lisa and our daughter Christina—and something else. You can see spirit energy that is extremely bright and moving from left to right. At the very top of the energy is a shadowy figure starting to manifest itself. I never thought Lisa was imagining things, but here was physical proof that she'd been stalked by a sinister spirit. Thank God she escaped relatively unscathed!

My mother-in-law, Carol, had a similar but even more harrowing experience, also when she was sleeping. I can hear the skeptics and debunkers out there saying “Hey, they were asleep, so it was just a dream.” But consider this: The demonic love to terrorize people when they are most vulnerable, and what better time to do that than when they're asleep in their own beds? I've had nightmares where I've literally woken up soaked in sweat, but I
knew
those were dreams, just as my sister and mother-in-law
knew
their experiences were real. The same thing happened to the McKenzie women: When they told their story on TV, a nonbeliever suggested that they were just sexually frustrated women who only dreamed they were stalked by an incubus. I couldn't believe this debunker was so cruel and mean-spirited. Would he tell the teenaged victim of a
human
pervert that she only imagined being attacked because she was starved for sex? That's just plain sick.