Sorcery

I should like, if I may, to tell you of the happening that first started me off on the road of Sorcery. I will take it as a matter of course that by the end of my first sentence you already know what I am, and what I do in the Dark.  It happened on a thanksgiving night when I was only eight years old. The nights had just started to get the Fall chill and the smoke aroma of chimney fires.

All my fathers immediate family had gathered at my grandmothers house (this was before the passing of my grandfather).  Crammed in the corner of their large backyard was a little shed that held their lawnmower and housed their drying vegetables, which hung from the rafters like rag dolls. It is this homely little building that will be our main point of interest tonight!    Even after all these years my skin is breaking out in gooseflesh as I relate this to you (not in fear mind you, but in excitement).

But before that, there must be this.   At that time in my life any chance to go over to my grandfathers house was a cause for joy. Especially when more members of my large family were in attendance. My older sister generally hung out with our older cousin (no names here mentioned) and my younger brother was with me. The night passed merrily with good food and warmth, but every party has to wind down and eventually all us kids found ourselves watching T.V. in the living room with all our parents in the dining room and kitchen area.    Now at that stage in their lives my older siblings were in the mean stages of pre-prepubescence and every now and again when they got together they could be quite the nasty duo.   Like kids will we all found our way outside in the backyard when nothing good was on. I remember looking up at the clear night sky and being amazed at the brightness of the full moon, like it’s own midnight sun it hung there (and this being the first time I can ever remember seeing that curious moon halo that happens only sometimes). It’s light made the shadows impenetrable, and something about that night felt very much alive.

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My Demon Fiance

Firstly, let me start off by giving a bit of background information as this will be important later in the story. I was born, raised and currently live in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I am Malaysian Chinese and Christianity is my religion.This story happened roughly 3 years ago to me and my then fiance Nicole. It was an experience that really left a scar on both our lives forever.

Three years ago, Nicole and I just got engaged and was looking for a new place we could call home to start a new life, and maybe a family together soon. To my surprise and luck, I found an old house with a really reasonable price in a really strategic place of the city. I discussed it with Nicole and decided that we could renovate it together after we bought it. The previous owner was really glad that we bought it and even offered to lower the price for a fast transaction, which I should have found odd as I reflect on it now.

Anyways, we bought the place and immediately began renovations on it. When it was all done, we moved in immediately and began shaping the place into our image. Back then I really wasnt paying attention to that little gut feeling that something was wrong about the place. I was too busy with the moving and the wedding coming up soon to even care, if only I knew what nightmares would come as a result of my consequences.

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Recent Experiences

Since I was about six or seven, I’ve had multiple experiences that have ranged from voices to actual sightings. The experiences I’m going to share with you today have occurred within the past three-four months.

The first experience happened on New Year’s Eve. My parents had left for a party about an hour before. I was in the guest room watching a cop show on Ion, and my brother was sitting on the bed watching YouTube videos. The chair that I liked to sit on is right next to the window. I was expecting a friend over, so when I heard what sounded like a car pull up on the driveway, I just assumed it was her.

I didn’t bother to check, since I figured she would just let herself in because I’d left a key under the mat for her. I heard the front door open and footsteps.

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Deomon in the Walmart Parking Lot

A short preface; at the time of these events, I was around 8, female and my mother had died a year before. I had been picked to shop at a WalMart with a police officer for christmas presents for myself or my family.

Around 8 or so I was driven to some building where a bunch of police officers and children gathered for the event. I was alone, my parents having dropped me off. I stayed near a window, a cripplingly antisocial young girl st the time. I stared through the glass, eyes tracing the line of trees across a large field. I saw something moving in the trees, making them shake and the birds fly out of them and land above me on the building’s roof. A big, black thing had been there. But when I was sbout to get up and go tell someone, my given officer found me and ee had to go.

After eating together, the officer and I headed out to his police cruiser. I gawked at all the machinery, loving the flickering lights. He laughed, and we started going. I forgot the black monster in my awe, but I would remember soon.

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A Collective of Personal Demon Stories: You will want to read this if you only read one thing today

This is an ongoing event in our lives and we frequently hold sage burning rituals in our household to ward these demons off. This is a collective of all the scary stories that have happened in this household to my knowledge and will probably fill the entirety of an episode for you if you so choose to use them.

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Personal Story #1:

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Helpful Childhood Spirits

I don’t really know where to begin but as a child, my mother always told my brother and I, that the worst thing we could possibly do, was to lie.

This would end up becoming a problem for me. Because I would often not be able to sleep until 4 o’clock in the morning. My parents often got angry with me, because I would be tired in the morning. I would often find myself crying for no apparent reason. Never for myself though. I never found that really necessary.

When my parents finally thought to ask me, why I wasn’t sleeping at night. I told them that I was creeped out by the faces watching me. I pointed out where they would all be in a clump in the corner of my room, and how they all looked. My parents wrote this off as me just having imaginary friends. But when I said, they weren’t imaginary, but people who had died, she got furious and told me I was lying.

This didn’t cost me my courage though. I would especially begin to talk to one of the men (There were 7, 3 middle-aged looking men, an elderly lady, a younger woman and a small child. Another child was in my parents’s bathroom. He was about 160-170 centimeters high (Approximately 5 feet 5 inches), slouched, had thin short brown hair, a lined face, with small, round eyes, that I couldn’t really see. He wore a checkered, red shirt and had big, “work-hands”, and always smelled of wood chips. I therefore believe, he was a woodworker of some sort, who’d spending most of his tie in the woods, because his skin was sunburned. He sounded like he’d likely have been my grandfather’s age (born in the 1940’s), if he’d still been alive and aged naturally. He began following me around everywhere, unlike the other spirits who would stay at our house.

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I remember getting out of bed and to my bedroom door so fast I didn’t even register what I was doing until I saw my brother running up the stairs. He was crying and screaming. My dad was half way down the stairs with the shotgun. He assumed someone had broken into the house. Through the tears, my brother managed a few half sentences.

“I saw something. Something in the living room, by the door.”

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