scariest paranormal

I mean, my scariest paranormal experience is carved so deep in my memory that I don’t need to think for long, even though it is more than twenty years ago. But it’s the main reason why I stopped doing paranormal things.

Firstly you need to know that I have not been paranormally gifted all my life. I was twenty when a paranormal/psychic/reiki-healer told me. She simply said: “did you know that you have a certain talent? I can see it, you gave got it.” To make a long story short, she became my teacher. I have been in training with her for two years (in her healing practice) and thus trained my abilities. Slowly, learning by doing. After that, I started to run my own practice where I did some healing, advice, et cetera. It was already clear that I would never get a living out of it (not enough talent and/or dedication), but I liked the fact that every monday evening in my practice I was able to help a few people with problems they could not discuss with a doctor or a shrink.

But I started to notice that my paranormal abilities started to attract ‘beings’ who wished to communicate and who tried to get my attention. Sometimes I noticed them because I smelled a vague stench, sometimes because I heared a distant crying or skreeching, sometimes because I saw them flashing by in the corner of my eye. I discussed this with my teacher. She taught me how I could protect myself, how I could shield myself from their influence and how I can communicate with these ghosts in case I wish to communicate. She also taught me some basic exorcism (for which I am very grateful, as you’ll understand if you read the rest of my story).

One day my wife told me the strangest thing. She said: “I have had so much luck in my life. I have the best and sweetest parents in the world and now I even found you and you all love me so much … I’m afraid it’s too much. I have the feeling that I’m just too happy that it’s not allowed. I expect the universe to start to do things to me, in order to restore the balance.”

I didn’t know why her words scared me so much, but I know they did. I remember saying to her: “Please, dear, don’t say such things. Moreover, don’t even think things like that. A person can never be too lucky, you deserve all the luck and all the love you receive. Don’t deny any of it, please don’t say to yourself you’re not worth it. I love you. I always will. And you’re worth it. Remember that. You’re worth it.”

I had already gotten used to the fact that sometimes my intuition drove me to say certain things to someone without my conscious mind knowing why I said them. So I just did. “Remember this, sweetheart, you’re worth it.”

She started crying, kissed me and went into the shower. She stayed away for very long and I yelled in order to check if she was OK. Suddenly she came into the room, wet and naked, with her towel in her hand. I heared the shower still running. She looked past me and said: “I feel so strange. I smell a filthy rotten smell and I have a feeling that I could throw up.”

“Come here, darling,” I told her. Slowly she walked towards me, still looking at the wall behind me, dropped the towel and sat on my lap. She stared at the wall. “I know what smells so bad,” she said, “It’s me, it’s my own body.”

I smelled it too. It wasn’t her. My body became very cold and I shivered. I started talking without knowing what I said or why I said it. I said: “Listen to me, listen now! Don’t hide, show yourself to me. Now, God-dammit! Stop hiding! You’re not here for her, you’re here for me! You are harrassing my wife and taking advantage of her vulnerability. How dare you, you coward! Come out and face me!”

My wife started yelling in a high voice, crying, screaming: “No!”. Her back bent, she lifted her head towards the ceiling, opened her eyes very wide and screamed loudly. She roared, screamed and suddenly threw up over me.

Resisting the urge to take her by the shoulders or to wipe off the vomit, I said in a low and loud voice: “That’s enough, you hear. Now leave her alone, you’re dealing with me now. Stop it right here. She’s not the one you’re after, it’s me. Talk to me!” I remember I was scared like I had never been scared before, I felt the room becoming dark around me and I felt that there were only three people left in the world. Me, my wife and him.

My wife stopped screaming, lowered her head, put her hands against her eyes and started crying very softly in a little child’s voice.

“Good, now that I have your attention, listen to me,” I said as friendly as I could even though I felt my voice trembling. “Leave my wife alone.”

“No,” my wife said in a dark manly voice. Her head shook and moved as if she spit out this word in stead of just talking.

Hearing this dark voice which was not hers scared me shitless, but I didn’t want to show this. “Why not?” I asked as casual as I could. “Why do you not want to leave her alone?”

“Because I finally found someone who is just as unhappy as I am,” it said.

“In that case I have bad news for you, my friend,” I said. “I love my wife so much that it’s impossible for her to be unhappy. It’s just not possible.”

“But she wants to be unhappy,” it said.

“I will not allow you to take advantage of her vulnerability,” I said.

My wife started to throw up again. Her throat made scary noises, her body started shaking.

“You do not want to leave, right?” I said.

“Yes!!!!!” she screamed.

“But you must,” I said. “You know I will not stop until you leave her alone. And you know I am strong enough to chase you away.” At this point I was scared to death and not sure at all if I would be able to deal with this ‘presence’, it was all bluff.

“You know I can protect her with my love,” I said. “And you also know that there is a way that both of you can be happy.”

“But she wants to be unhappy!” I heared. This time my wife’s mouth did not move, I heared the voice inside my head. That’s a good thing, I said to myself, he’s not using her to communicate anymore. He’s using me now.

“There is a way for both of you to be happy,” I repeated.

He did not answer. I felt two cold hands around my throat.

I started praying. I started asking for angels to come and pick up this unhappy soul. I told him: “If you’re honest, you admit that there’s one thing that you would rather have than sharing your misery. And that is for you to be happy.” The hands around my throat tightened their grip. The temperature went down even more. “Please trust me when I say that you can end your misery,” I continued, “and it’s not even difficult. Look at those angels. See them? Accept them, follow them.”

My wife still sat on my lap, staring into the void.

It took about fifteen minutes of repeating these words (“look at these angels, accept them, follow them”), praying, calling the angels, imagining that the room was filled with angels. Then I felt the need to say: “You know, I feel love for you too. I forgive you for what you did to my wife. She forgives you. God forgives you. And we love you. We all love you. Follow the angels.”

And then, all of a sudden, I felt that he left. My wife sighed deeply and fell on the floor. She shivered and said in her own voice: “What happened? Why am I so cold?”

The light in the room went back to normal, the smell disappeared, I picked up the towel. I said: “You came in here because you wanted me to dry you, sweetheart. Come here, let me wrap you in this nice, soft, warm towel.” She stood up. I stood up and wrapped the towel around her. She pushed her body against me.

“Are you happy, my darling?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “And I think it’s best if I give myself permission to be happy.”

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