The Demonologist: The Extraordinary Career of Ed and Lorraine Warren (29 page)

“As fate would have it, I received a phone call the next day from a fellow named Robert Goldstrom, who wanted to make an appointment to come to my office with his daughter Denise. ‘Why do you need to see me?’ I asked him.

“Frustrated and upset, he explained that his daughter possessed a natural knowledge of what he took to be witchcraft. He said, giving me a quick runthrough of the girl’s life, that instead of playing like an ordinary child, Denise was often found off on her own, performing complicated rituals involving pentagrams, animal blood, and so forth—things a six-year-old would have no familiarity with. As the girl got older, she displayed an aversion to church and withdrew in the presence of clergymen. Meanwhile, neighborhood kids were instinctively frightened of Denise; even her own mother was afraid to be left alone in the same room with her.

“As a teenager, Denise got even worse. When she stared at people, even when they weren’t aware of it, she’d fill their mind with inhuman terror. The girl’s gaze was so intense she could actually stop machinery! I know this is true, because I later saw her do it She brought a car moving along a highway to a stone-cold stop. Yet, this activity was not the reason why Goldstrom had called me. Rather, Denise was now manifesting different personalities: some male, some female, and some that couldn’t even be called human. Moreover, the statements these ‘personalities’ made were extremely threatening to Robert Goldstrom and his wife.

“In response, he brought the girl to psychiatrists, who recognized her problem as being something more than psychological. The doctors told him to bring his daughter to a clergyman, but the minister whom Goldstrom consulted wouldn’t see the girl unless he brought her to see me first. After listening to the man’s problem, I made an appointment to see them both the following Saturday at eleven A.M.

“That night, the spirit again attempted to manifest in the Occult Museum; and again I did my thing with the holy water. The next day, Monday, Lorraine and I left for speaking engagements in Pennsylvania and Ohio. We didn’t return home again until late Friday. The following day, Saturday, at eleven in the morning, Robert Goldstrom arrived with his daughter for their scheduled appointment. Denise was about nineteen. She was a tall, thin brunette with blue eyes that put out a fierce, penetrating gaze. When I attempted to shake hands with the girl, she backed away and stared distrustfully at me, keeping track of every move I made.

“Bringing these two people out to my office, I asked Denise to take the chair beside my desk, while her father sat in an easy chair close by. I then switched on the tape recorder and asked Mr. Goldstrom to state the problem again. He repeated that whenever he or his wife spoke to their daughter, they could never be sure if they were talking to Denise—or to some alien personality. The girl all the while never took her eyes off me.

“When the father was done, I attempted to question the girl. ‘Who are you?’ I asked.

“ ‘Denise Goldstrom,’ she answered me contemptuously.

“How old are you?

“ ‘Older than you think,’ she said.

“How about what your father told me? Is it true you’ve been manifesting different personalities?

“ ‘He’s paranoid,’ she answered. ‘I’m myself. I’m whoever I want to be.’

“ ‘Are any of your personalities inhuman?’ I pressed her.

“ ‘I don’t have to answer any of your goddamn questions,’ she shot back.

“ When I looked up to ask Denise another question, she was directing one of her piercing gazes at me. ‘You picked the wrong guy to try that on,’ I told her. ‘Don’t you ever,
ever
do that to me again !’

“For the first time since she entered our house, the girl looked away from me. She seemed dazed and disoriented, as though she’d just been clunked on the head with a baseball bat. Her eyes wandered over the articles on my desk, then came to rest on the black lace veil that I’d put in the far corner to stop the spirit from manifesting. Suddenly, before I could block her, Denise jumped up, grabbed the veil, and drew it to her breast. Her features immediately began to transform into those of a wild, sneering creature distinct from this otherwise attractive girl. I drew two vials of water to myself, one unblessed, the other blessed by a very pious exorcist, and moved away from what was no longer Denise, but an inhuman spirit: a lesser devil of hell. This,” says Ed, pushing the Play button of the tape recorder, “is what I heard.”

Raucous, diabolical laughter suddenly erupts from the twin bookshelf speakers.

“You’re laughing at me,” Ed’s voice says, “but who am I talking to?” And the spirit that possessed Denise begins to speak.

Baleful moaning, caterwauling, and various animal sounds are then heard receding into the distance as the possessing entity withdraws from the body of the girl.

Ed puts an end to the moaning by hitting the Stop button on the tape recorder, leaving the Occult Museum as silent as a dungeon. After a long minute of reflection, Ed finally breaks the silence: “That’s what’s out there. That’s what’s possessing these kids...
in
human, demonic spirits.
Inhuman,
because they're not man and have no positive virtues;
demonic,
because they’re an order of angel that call themselves devils; and
spirits,
because they do not exist on the physical but on the metaphysical plane. They’re invisible, they’re intangible... but they’re there!”