Beware the Night (15 page)

T
RULY, 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.

Here’s my mother-in-law’s true story, exactly as she told it to me. She was awakened one night by a suffocating pressure on her chest. When she opened her eyes, she saw a hooded specter. Its body appeared solid, but when she looked where the face should have been, there was only blackness. It looked like a monk, but its words were full of unholy menace: “I’m going to kill you!”

Beyond fear or even dread, Carol turned to prayer and began to recite the Hail Mary. The pressure on her chest grew more and more intense, and after reaching the words “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,” she lost consciousness. Her plea for help was heard, and she woke up the next morning to the sound of birds singing. She used the holy water I’d given her, and over the next several days, it slowly washed her terror away.

*   *   *

The McKenzie family, however, was still trapped in a web of fear. Convinced that the demon would hunt them down wherever they fled—or be lying in wait when they arrived there—Claudia and the exhausted children all huddled together on Jessica’s waterbed like cornered animals. Even with every light blazing and big, muscular Artie standing watch at the door, no one could sleep. Their hearts pounded, and their nerves were so on edge that if one of them moved, everyone jumped. Periodically, the house made some tiny creak, and they all screamed.

The incubus, however, didn’t attack that night or the next. For the next month it did absolutely nothing, except let the family marinate in their own terror, not knowing when—or how—it would next assail them. You might say it was toying with them, playing a cat-and-mouse game. With bestial cruelty, it was waiting for its prey to be lulled into a false sense of security.

Gradually the family let down their guard and resumed their old sleeping arrangements, except that the children now slept two to a bed, with the twins in one room and Monique in her cousin’s room on the first floor. That’s when the predator from Hell pounced.

“It was a Sunday,” Jessica explained. “Sunday is never a good day in this house—and on a scale of one to ten, this Sunday was a ten! I woke up sweating and looked at the clock. It was three o’clock in the morning. That’s when a lot of horrible things happen here.”

Her cousins, the twins, also woke up drenched in sweat. “We heard crashing footsteps, looked at each other, and said, ‘It’s coming!’” Carolyn added. To their incredible relief, the steps ran past their door and stopped.

Jessica, who’d been sleeping on the waterbed with Monique, shouted, “It’s at
our
door!” Astonishingly, the locked door swung open, and a huge dark shape oozed into the room.

“I felt it land on the bed,” the cousin continued. “It was leaning over us, and the waterbed went crazy! It was shaking like the ocean during a storm. I was thrown against something, maybe its chest. The thing was roaring at us so loudly that I could feel my whole body vibrating from the noise. I was scared to death.”

Claudia was jolted from the first sound sleep she’d had for a month. “The children were screaming hysterically, and over the din I heard Monique shrieking at the top of her lungs ‘Mom, it’s getting Jessica!’ I fell out of bed, trying to run to them. It felt like I was running in slow motion and would never get there in time. My legs felt like lead.”

It seemed like an eternity before she reached Jessica and Monique. “Their room was as cold as a refrigerator. I threw my body across theirs and saw something running out of the room. It looked like a blur, it was moving so fast.”