The Demonologist: The Extraordinary Career of Ed and Lorraine Warren (15 page)

“Let me be quick to say I absolutely do not recommend any investigator or psychic researcher to follow this procedure, however. Provocation is a distinctly religious procedure, not a scientific one. It requires special preparation before it is even attempted, or the results can be disastrous. I say this as fair warning to those who may try. No matter how dedicated the investigator, there is a point where he must stop, accept an impasse, and go home. There is no such thing as ‘conquest’ in this work. The end point is exorcism, the elimination of the negative force. No other attitude will succeed. The demonic is a very grave, serious problem and neither good intentions nor ‘manly intolerance’ will drive it away. It backs off only in the name of God. That’s it.”

Probably the most disturbing aspect to demoniacal phenomena is that behind all the terror and chaos, there stands a shrewd, calculating intelligence.

“Bear in mind, too, this is not something that is dead,” Ed points out “This is an active, negative intelligence that predates man in cosmic evolution. It is more knowledgeable than us because it’s older than us. See it as a powerful negative intelligence completely lost in its hate for God. Once you do that, you’ll start getting the picture of what the demonic spirit really is.”

Perhaps no item more vividly illustrates the “wicked wisdom” of the demonic spirit than the five-foot antique conjuring mirror that hangs on the wall near Ed’s office. One can’t help but notice its ornate carved frame, but it is anything but a treasured objet d’art. Instead it’s under the watchful eyes of Ed Warren because it is a profane object.

“These days,” Ed explains, “people’s only real familiarity with mirror magic comes from the rhyme in Snow White: ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall; who’s the fairest one of all?’ Witches and sorcerers once used mirrors to foresee or manipulate future events through magic—not illusion, but true magic, the real manipulation of nature and events. That ornate mirror by my door came from the home of a vindictive fifty-five-year-old Pennsylvania man named Steven Zellner who used it to practice a little-known medieval ritual we call speculum, or mirror magic.

“Now magic, like witchcraft, can be used to produce either good or bad effects. This man used the mirror as an instrument of black magic. First, he performed a lengthy incantation ritual or conjuring formula, inviting the spirit world to assist him in manipulating the future. After the incantation, he then directed his gaze into the mirror, using it in much the same way one uses a crystal ball: as a point of concentration.

“When he first started out, Steven saw very little in the mirror other than the movement of blurred forms, or quick little incidents that meant nothing to him. But day by day, week by week, the more he concentrated his attention into the mirror—that is, the more he opened up his free will to the experience—the more control Steven gained, and consequently, the more he could see. Eventually, after performing this speculum ritual obsessively for many months, Mr. Zellner got to the point where all he had to do was state what he wanted to see, and the desired image would appear.

“In time, once he perfected the ritual, he could actually tune into the future whenever he liked. He could see—indeed predict—self-oriented events that would occur a day, a month, even a year later. But as the saying goes, Power makes slaves of us all,’ and he soon decided to
use
this occult power. Going a step further, then, he projected people into the mirror. Invariably these were folks Mr. Zellner didn’t like—whom he singled out for revenge or punishment. God help the butcher who shortchanged Steven Zellner!” Ed jokes.

“In order to wreak his own personal form of justice, Steven would select a victim whose image would come up in the mirror. The unwitting individual would be seen in some actual future situation. Then, with the victim literally in his sights, Steven would
will
some misfortune to befall that person. For example, he would see his victim standing at the top of a flight of stairs. At that point, if he wanted to make his victim fall down the stairs and break an arm, all he had to do was desire to see it happen. Working this kind of magic, the man would actually see his spiteful justice occur in the mirror just the way he planned it—kind of like watching an instant replay before the action takes place.

“Neat trick, right? Except there was a sticking point. These malicious acts wouldn’t happen just on his mortal say-so; they’d be carried out by inhuman spirits that he commanded as part of the ritual process. In order to make a victim fall down the stairs, an inhuman spirit would either momentarily disorient the person, apport some grease on a step, or go so far as to even give the victim a psychokinetic push—and, whammo!

“However,
somewhere along the line, Steven made a mistake, and his magic went awry. No doubt he neglected the part of the ritual where he had to give homage to Satan. As a result, the evil he proposed for others began to occur to him. But this was only a secondary grievance, because the spirits that he’d turned loose on his enemies had infested his own home instead, and were actively engaged in oppressing him. Disembodied footsteps and heavy breathing were heard in the otherwise empty house. Doors opened by themselves. Objects levitated or were flung around the room by unseen hands. Unearthly noises woke him up in the middle of the night In short, an invisible presence roamed the house, and there was nothing he could do about it

“After about a week, this man was so absolutely terrified he called a prominent Catholic official here in the East, and literally begged him to send a demonologist to his house. Rather than send over a busy priest though, that church official contacted me in Connecticut and asked if I’d investigate and try to straighten things out. At the time, Lorraine and I were working a tight schedule, but with us, people come first. So I canceled the remainder of our appointments that day, along with an appearance on an important interview show that night, and drove off with Lorraine to northern New Jersey.

“When we arrived at the address, we met a man frightened out of his wits. Of course, he had every right to be. Doors were opening and closing by themselves. Objects were flying here, there, and everywhere. Every minute, something would crash and break, or bounce off a wall and hit the floor and smash—a real ruckus! At one point during the afternoon, my own car even got involved. About an hour after we got there, cars in the street started honking their horns. When I looked out the window, I saw our car parked in the middle of the road crossways blocking both lanes of traffic. When we arrived I had parked the car in Mr. Zellner’s driveway, pulled the emergency brake, and locked the doors. Yet, someone on the street said they saw the car roll backwards out of the driveway all by itself. When I went out to get it, of course, the car’s doors were still locked and the parking brake was still set.

“Anyway,” Ed goes on, “it was apparent I was going to have to do something that very afternoon to stop the disturbance. In a situation like this, the best solution is to ‘Stab the devil with his own pitchfork,' so to speak—therefore, what I had to do was
reverse
the ritual that Steven had performed. I did this, at considerable danger to myself, but it put an immediate stop to the action, and also nullified any future evil the man had projected—because it committed the demonic to perform the evil on itself, or else cease the oppression altogether.

“That afternoon, when our work was done, Mr. Zellner wanted to know if we would take the conjuring mirror with us when we left I said, ‘Sure.’ That way, at least I knew I wouldn’t have to come back on the same case twice. So, I put the mirror in the trunk of our car, and Lorraine and I started back home, just before dark.

“When I was young and new to the dangers of this work,” says Ed, “I sought the advice of very learned people who had long ago learned the deeper secrets of this world. At that time, a very wise man told me, ‘Ed, I would never go into homes and confront the kind of entities you do for any reason—especially where the demonic is concerned. Once you cross the threshold into the world of darkness, you will forever live in danger, as will all those whom you love. Like it or not, you will be unique—and alone—among men. Never forget, the diabolical forces you challenge are clever, for unlike any mortal, they possess the wisdom and the knowledge of the Ages.’

“It was bitterly cold that evening. The roads had ice patches on them, so we took our time. I also knew that removing the mirror incensed certain malicious spirits and made me the object of their wrath, so I made it a point to be
extra
careful driving. Well, caution or not, about five miles from the man’s house, I hit a small pothole. Under ordinary circumstances, it wouldn’t have been of any consequence, but on this occasion it exploded a new, hundred dollar, radial tire—something that’s almost impossible to do. This made our car veer into the oncoming lane of traffic. Cars screeched and swerved, missing us by an inch. It was a miracle we weren’t killed right there.

“After I changed the tire, I got onto the parkway. A large tractor-trailer came up from behind our car, moved around the left side, and then inserted itself in the lane in front of us. I noticed there was something strange about the truck right off: it didn’t have any lettering, plates, or markings on it. Suddenly, off this dry pavement, the truck began throwing up gallons of green, gelatinous sludge on our windshield, making it impossible for me to see out. The windshield wipers were barely able to move the slop away. When I was able to see again, the truck had vanished. Yet, no sooner did I clear off the windshield, than this
same
truck moved up from the left, got into the lane
in
front of us, and caused the same mess to occur again.

“By the third time this happened, it was evident that something sinister was going on, so I pulled off the road and let traffic go by while I cleaned the mess off the windshield. Five minutes later, after we got rolling again, the very
same
truck appeared, passed on the left, recklessly swung into the lane ahead of us, and immediately proceeded to throw up gallons of this thick, green slop. The stuff
only hit our car,
and when I managed to regain visibility, the truck was gone, just like before. Similar things have happened to us when we’ve been driving to or from other investigations. It’s never been this green sludge before, but our car has been deluged with downfalls of urine and—on one occasion—beer. As usual, it’s only our car that gets hit.

“Anyway, this business with the truck repeated itself at least a half-dozen times, and there was no way I could shake him—or
it.
The situation was
so
dangerous we fully expected to be killed. I finally managed to exit off the parkway at the first opportunity, and got onto a back road leading to Connecticut.

“Things went all right for about an hour after that,” Ed continues. “There was almost no traffic on that back road, so we both felt pretty safe. But then suddenly, in my rear-view mirror, I noticed a car moving up from behind at tremendous speed. It was dark by now, yet this car had no headlights on at all! The only thing I could make out was a pair of dim parking lights. In no time at all, the car rushed up behind us, swerved into the passing lane, and raced on up the road. This was a jet-black car, and I swear the driver missed hitting us by no more than an inch. Lorraine, looking at the car as it went by, said it was as though the devil himself had just passed! ‘It might as well be,’ I told her, ‘because the damn fool nearly killed us.’ The guy was nuts, traveling that fast at night on an icy road with no headlights.

“I continued on my way as this guy went tearing down the road ahead of us. In the distance, I saw him travel over a one-lane suspension bridge, then begin climbing up a hill. All I could see of his black car were the rear parking lights, and I was glad to be rid of him. But when he got to the top of the hill, about a mile off, I saw him hit the brakes, turn his whole car around, and come racing back down the hill. An awful, sick feeling came over me then. All I could think was that we were going to have a terrible accident.

“Now, I had already started our car across that narrow suspension bridge, but by the time I’d driven no more than a third of the way across, this character had traveled full speed down the hill and was starting onto the bridge from the other side! ‘What’s this?’ I remember saying to myself at the time
.
‘Is this guy on some kind of death trip?’

“With him bearing down on us at high speed, there was no chance to do anything like back up and let him pass. Just the opposite—
if he didn’t stop immediately, we were going to crash head on!
But he just kept coming! The bridge arched, like a trestle, over a ravine. If I swerved to the left or right, we’d have plunged into the valley and been wiped out for sure. When my headlights picked up the chrome grill of his car, I yelled to Lorraine to get down on the floor. Because, sure enough, here comes this maniac right down the middle of the bridge, racing straight at us.

“He’s doing ninety. I’m doing forty. At that point, even if we both tried to stop, the momentum would have still carried our cars into a collision. It was an impossible situation. Still, I had to do
something.
With five seconds to go, my life was reduced to one basic question: Should I swerve or go straight? At the last moment, something told me
keep going straight!

“There was no time left. My last words to Lorraine were ‘Call on Saint Michael!’ With two seconds to go—and in these situations you think in terms of time, not distance—my arms are braced and I’m ready for the hit. One second before crashing, I draw my final breath. Then, right smack at the moment of impact…SWISH!!! He’s a
phantom!
Lorraine was right.”

Religious writers have often called the demonic spirit an “evil genius”—a veiled reference to the premeditated strategy that can be discerned when the demonic is responsible for disturbances in a home. During an investigation, therefore, it is this intelligence—a rational moving force behind the phenomena—that the demonologist primarily looks for.