"The reasons why puncturing the skin should be regarded with some degree of awe are not far to seek, for in the first place, there is the drawing of blood, which to the savage world over is full of significance as a rejuvenating and immortalizing factor. There is in addition to the opening of numerous inlets for evil to enter. . ." (Hambly Wilfrid D. 1925. The History of Tattooing and its Significance, p. 233)
Every ghost story normally starts with the protagonist being a paranormal skeptic but finally ends with him believing in the inexplicable phenomenon. But this is different. I’ve always believed in the negative energy; ghosts, elves, demons do exist, in the same world in which we live.
This may sound as weird as it can be. But this only bolstered my belief in demons. It was a perfect winter night. A thick fog engulfed the street, which was more desolate than ever before. Few hippies were making themselves comfortable in front of a bonfire. There was a chill surrounding me. I would’ve considered that normal but for the reason why I and my old friends are meeting over.
The streetlights flickered; an electrical disturbance is always an indication of an evil lurking around the corner. I could hear a dog howling at a far off distance. With hands in my coat to keep myself warm, I ambled towards the old building at the street’s end.
Over the past few days in Tia’s life, some abnormal events had occurred that finally led to her death. Niki too died under suspicious circumstances. I’ve seen their bodies, post mortem. In both cases, it was clearly evident that they’d undergone through a great deal of pain and anguish at the time of their death, though there were not any marks of external injuries that could’ve caused their death.
The only thing that seemed weird to us is the fact that Tia visited a psychic, days before she died. The very next thing that plagued my thoughts, Was she possessed?
We had invited the psychic, old man Joe too who had been treating Tia.
My friends were already waiting for me. As we started to greet each other, an elderly gentleman knocked at the open door with his walking stick.
“That must be old man Joe,” a voice from the gathering spoke out.
“I can feel the presence of a negative energy. It’s so bad,” old man Joe said as he walked towards us. He adorned a white beard and his cheeks were full, and looked very healthy for his age, except that he carried a walking stick.
“It is very close by. I can sense it. It’s very strong. It’s not a human spirit. It’s far more powerful..” he spoke and held his head. He was about to fall when one of us helped him sit on the chair.
He took a deep breath and looked at all of us.
“Sir, we know that Tia had visited you on some purpose. In case you didn’t know, she passed away a few days back,” I said when his face turned pale; clearly he looked scared.
“Does anyone believe in ghosts?” he cleared his throat and started to speak louder. I wanted to say an ‘Yes’ but fearing that my friends will make fun of me, I remained calm.
“There are a few believers as there are nonbelievers,” he said staring at me. I felt very uncomfortable by the way he stared at me.
“Your personal belief has nothing to do with their existence. The devil has existed long before man. Different religions have different ways of explaining their existence. For example, Christianity says that these devils are nothing but fallen angels.”
There was a long pause.
“A man of science may not believe in demons and ghosts, because his observation is purely based on his sensory perception. But is that all? There are more things around us which we cannot see and which we cannot feel. Has anyone of us ventured into the dark, all alone? Well, let me not deviate...”
“... There are spirits surrounding you and so are the demons. A devil or a demon is different from a spirit in the sense that a spirit may be human, the soul of the same person. But a demon is not human, though it may infest a human being. A demon is something more powerful, filled with more negative energy and hence you attribute the terms rage and malice to it; negative energy, obviously means destruction.”
The skeptics looked perplexed and unconvinced while I, the believer knew whatever he was trying to say was perfectly true.
“We don’t understand the connection,” a voice from amongst the skeptics, spoke.
Old man Joe took a deep breath, “Your friend Tia consulted me, after she started having visions. It’s a very rare case of possession, when the person possessed knows that she’s been possessed.”
“What visions,” yet somebody interrupted again.
“Visions of a demon, she could feel it inside her, the coldness and the deep rooted hatred. The moment Tia stepped into my place, I felt it too. Never before have I felt so much negative energy concentrated in a single entity,” Joe answered.
“So why Tia and how did it find Tia,” I asked him. He leaned back gaping at me, “That’s a nice question. I don’t know why Tia, but I can explain how it found Tia.”
“Demons as I said are a form of negative energy. And as your laws of physics would state that most forms of energy need a medium to be transferred, a demon would need a medium too. Hence they choose vulnerable people, why people, why not animals is again a case of convenience; humans are dexterous and adept at performing many things which animals cannot do. Why vulnerable, to attain complete control of the being. And the inlet for it to enter Tia’s body was a tattoo on her hand.”
He paused for a while, as we all panicked and started to sweat. Perhaps, Joe hasn’t noticed this and he continued.
“The art of tattooing is not a fashion statement alone. Tribes from various parts of the world throughout ages have tattooed religious and spiritual symbols on their bodies to denote their statuses, talismans to ward off evils etcetera.”
“She had a sigil tattooed on her arm and when she showed me her tattoo, I knew it was something related to demons. The tattoo resembled closely the insignia of Lucifer, Azazel and even Baphomet. My limited knowledge on tattoos couldn’t give me an idea of the demon but for sure I knew how the demon had entered her,” He paused for a while and noticed our pallid faces.
“You do know something about the tattoo, don’t you?” he questioned.
All of us nodded in affirmation. And then one after another we raised our sleeves to show him the tattoos on our arms.
“Oh God!”
“It’s the same one I’ve seen on her arm,” he cried aloud and jumped out of his seat. He collected his walking stick and started to walk away chanting some prayers.
“I am not involved in this, I am certainly not involved in this,” he said as he approached the door. “You all are going to die. This demon is so wicked that it will consume you all. You cannot escape its fury... May God save you all,” he said as he slammed the door behind him and walked away.
Inside the room we were looking at each other’s face, not knowing what to do next. The door suddenly opened with a thud much to our bewilderment and fright. A huge dark figure stood there at the door with a gleaming knife in his hand. It was old man Joe again. I saw him grip his fingers around the hilt and he slowly walked towards us.
“Watch out,” somebody shouted.
“We are four, and an old man can never match us,” another was confident.
As we were about to pounce, he stopped us, “let me do it please, the only way you can save yourselves” and without warning he thrust the knife into Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy screamed in pain. And Joe dragged the knife down Jeremy’s arm, tearing apart the skin.
“Now the devil shall not find a way to enter your body,” he exclaimed triumphantly.
Jeremy writhed in pain holding his bleeding arm. Joe then looked at me and proceeded to cut the flesh containing the tattoo part.
I found his theory credible and logical. We all thanked him for saving us and then we left the place with a heave of relief.
Few days later, I received a call from Jeremy, “Jonathan is dead just like Tia, just like Niki...”
A chill ran down my spine. I pulled back the sleeve and looked at my arm from where the tattoo was cut. The wound was healed but there were no traces of the tattoo.
How can this be? We have closed the door for the demon to enter. How could it have possibly killed Jonathan?
“What if the demon has already entered our bodies even before old man Joe sealed the inlet?” Jeremy’s voice quivered from the other end.
“We will have to reach old man Joe as soon as possible,” I suggested.
The very evening I reached his home. An elderly gentleman opened the door. His cheeks were tucked in but he was cleanly shaven, and his forehead, wrinkled. There was a magnetic charm in his eyes.
“I have come to meet old man Joe,” I spoke.
“I am Joe, please tell me,” he said.
I was shocked to hear that. “Y..you... Joe...” I stammered. And he nodded. “Any problem Sir?” he extended his hand. I just pushed him and ran away.
I don’t know how far I ran, for how long I ran. I stopped by a tree far away from old Joe’s home. I was panting heavily; my mind was blank except for the person’s face I saw during the meeting, that white beard and broad forehead. This man looked puny.
Who could that be? Could he be the devil himself? He cut the tattoos from our skins so that he could seal himself permanently inside us?
Thousands of questions crisscrossed my mind. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the answers. Recently I came to know that Jeremy too had passed away in the similar fashion.
I’ve started to feel it inside me. I suddenly suffer with bouts of cold breaths. I feel that my energy is being sapped away and a pointed object being shoved into my heart with so much thrust that I writhe in pain. My spine freezes that I refuse to move lest it might break. In that moment of vulnerability I see the demon inside me. There’s so much malice and fury, so dark and so evil.
I’ve isolated myself from the rest of the world. I live in the dark and dingiest corner of my apartment, hiding and trying to save my life. I don’t know when it’s going to devour me, inside out. I just count my minutes and await for it to consume me.
What would you do? Will you believe that you are possessed and that you are under the influence of an evil power? When your rational mind cannot explain things that have happened and are still happening before your eyes? When more particularly you know that for no apparent reason you’d killed your friends who you’d loved throughout your life!
Read more »
Every ghost story normally starts with the protagonist being a paranormal skeptic but finally ends with him believing in the inexplicable phenomenon. But this is different. I’ve always believed in the negative energy; ghosts, elves, demons do exist, in the same world in which we live.
This may sound as weird as it can be. But this only bolstered my belief in demons. It was a perfect winter night. A thick fog engulfed the street, which was more desolate than ever before. Few hippies were making themselves comfortable in front of a bonfire. There was a chill surrounding me. I would’ve considered that normal but for the reason why I and my old friends are meeting over.
The streetlights flickered; an electrical disturbance is always an indication of an evil lurking around the corner. I could hear a dog howling at a far off distance. With hands in my coat to keep myself warm, I ambled towards the old building at the street’s end.
Over the past few days in Tia’s life, some abnormal events had occurred that finally led to her death. Niki too died under suspicious circumstances. I’ve seen their bodies, post mortem. In both cases, it was clearly evident that they’d undergone through a great deal of pain and anguish at the time of their death, though there were not any marks of external injuries that could’ve caused their death.
The only thing that seemed weird to us is the fact that Tia visited a psychic, days before she died. The very next thing that plagued my thoughts, Was she possessed?
We had invited the psychic, old man Joe too who had been treating Tia.
My friends were already waiting for me. As we started to greet each other, an elderly gentleman knocked at the open door with his walking stick.
“That must be old man Joe,” a voice from the gathering spoke out.
“I can feel the presence of a negative energy. It’s so bad,” old man Joe said as he walked towards us. He adorned a white beard and his cheeks were full, and looked very healthy for his age, except that he carried a walking stick.
“It is very close by. I can sense it. It’s very strong. It’s not a human spirit. It’s far more powerful..” he spoke and held his head. He was about to fall when one of us helped him sit on the chair.
He took a deep breath and looked at all of us.
“Sir, we know that Tia had visited you on some purpose. In case you didn’t know, she passed away a few days back,” I said when his face turned pale; clearly he looked scared.
“Does anyone believe in ghosts?” he cleared his throat and started to speak louder. I wanted to say an ‘Yes’ but fearing that my friends will make fun of me, I remained calm.
“There are a few believers as there are nonbelievers,” he said staring at me. I felt very uncomfortable by the way he stared at me.
“Your personal belief has nothing to do with their existence. The devil has existed long before man. Different religions have different ways of explaining their existence. For example, Christianity says that these devils are nothing but fallen angels.”
There was a long pause.
“A man of science may not believe in demons and ghosts, because his observation is purely based on his sensory perception. But is that all? There are more things around us which we cannot see and which we cannot feel. Has anyone of us ventured into the dark, all alone? Well, let me not deviate...”
“... There are spirits surrounding you and so are the demons. A devil or a demon is different from a spirit in the sense that a spirit may be human, the soul of the same person. But a demon is not human, though it may infest a human being. A demon is something more powerful, filled with more negative energy and hence you attribute the terms rage and malice to it; negative energy, obviously means destruction.”
The skeptics looked perplexed and unconvinced while I, the believer knew whatever he was trying to say was perfectly true.
“We don’t understand the connection,” a voice from amongst the skeptics, spoke.
Old man Joe took a deep breath, “Your friend Tia consulted me, after she started having visions. It’s a very rare case of possession, when the person possessed knows that she’s been possessed.”
“What visions,” yet somebody interrupted again.
“Visions of a demon, she could feel it inside her, the coldness and the deep rooted hatred. The moment Tia stepped into my place, I felt it too. Never before have I felt so much negative energy concentrated in a single entity,” Joe answered.
“So why Tia and how did it find Tia,” I asked him. He leaned back gaping at me, “That’s a nice question. I don’t know why Tia, but I can explain how it found Tia.”
“Demons as I said are a form of negative energy. And as your laws of physics would state that most forms of energy need a medium to be transferred, a demon would need a medium too. Hence they choose vulnerable people, why people, why not animals is again a case of convenience; humans are dexterous and adept at performing many things which animals cannot do. Why vulnerable, to attain complete control of the being. And the inlet for it to enter Tia’s body was a tattoo on her hand.”
He paused for a while, as we all panicked and started to sweat. Perhaps, Joe hasn’t noticed this and he continued.
“The art of tattooing is not a fashion statement alone. Tribes from various parts of the world throughout ages have tattooed religious and spiritual symbols on their bodies to denote their statuses, talismans to ward off evils etcetera.”
“She had a sigil tattooed on her arm and when she showed me her tattoo, I knew it was something related to demons. The tattoo resembled closely the insignia of Lucifer, Azazel and even Baphomet. My limited knowledge on tattoos couldn’t give me an idea of the demon but for sure I knew how the demon had entered her,” He paused for a while and noticed our pallid faces.
“You do know something about the tattoo, don’t you?” he questioned.
All of us nodded in affirmation. And then one after another we raised our sleeves to show him the tattoos on our arms.
“Oh God!”
“It’s the same one I’ve seen on her arm,” he cried aloud and jumped out of his seat. He collected his walking stick and started to walk away chanting some prayers.
“I am not involved in this, I am certainly not involved in this,” he said as he approached the door. “You all are going to die. This demon is so wicked that it will consume you all. You cannot escape its fury... May God save you all,” he said as he slammed the door behind him and walked away.
Inside the room we were looking at each other’s face, not knowing what to do next. The door suddenly opened with a thud much to our bewilderment and fright. A huge dark figure stood there at the door with a gleaming knife in his hand. It was old man Joe again. I saw him grip his fingers around the hilt and he slowly walked towards us.
“Watch out,” somebody shouted.
“We are four, and an old man can never match us,” another was confident.
As we were about to pounce, he stopped us, “let me do it please, the only way you can save yourselves” and without warning he thrust the knife into Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy screamed in pain. And Joe dragged the knife down Jeremy’s arm, tearing apart the skin.
“Now the devil shall not find a way to enter your body,” he exclaimed triumphantly.
Jeremy writhed in pain holding his bleeding arm. Joe then looked at me and proceeded to cut the flesh containing the tattoo part.
I found his theory credible and logical. We all thanked him for saving us and then we left the place with a heave of relief.
Few days later, I received a call from Jeremy, “Jonathan is dead just like Tia, just like Niki...”
A chill ran down my spine. I pulled back the sleeve and looked at my arm from where the tattoo was cut. The wound was healed but there were no traces of the tattoo.
How can this be? We have closed the door for the demon to enter. How could it have possibly killed Jonathan?
“What if the demon has already entered our bodies even before old man Joe sealed the inlet?” Jeremy’s voice quivered from the other end.
“We will have to reach old man Joe as soon as possible,” I suggested.
The very evening I reached his home. An elderly gentleman opened the door. His cheeks were tucked in but he was cleanly shaven, and his forehead, wrinkled. There was a magnetic charm in his eyes.
“I have come to meet old man Joe,” I spoke.
“I am Joe, please tell me,” he said.
I was shocked to hear that. “Y..you... Joe...” I stammered. And he nodded. “Any problem Sir?” he extended his hand. I just pushed him and ran away.
I don’t know how far I ran, for how long I ran. I stopped by a tree far away from old Joe’s home. I was panting heavily; my mind was blank except for the person’s face I saw during the meeting, that white beard and broad forehead. This man looked puny.
Who could that be? Could he be the devil himself? He cut the tattoos from our skins so that he could seal himself permanently inside us?
Thousands of questions crisscrossed my mind. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the answers. Recently I came to know that Jeremy too had passed away in the similar fashion.
I’ve started to feel it inside me. I suddenly suffer with bouts of cold breaths. I feel that my energy is being sapped away and a pointed object being shoved into my heart with so much thrust that I writhe in pain. My spine freezes that I refuse to move lest it might break. In that moment of vulnerability I see the demon inside me. There’s so much malice and fury, so dark and so evil.
I’ve isolated myself from the rest of the world. I live in the dark and dingiest corner of my apartment, hiding and trying to save my life. I don’t know when it’s going to devour me, inside out. I just count my minutes and await for it to consume me.
What would you do? Will you believe that you are possessed and that you are under the influence of an evil power? When your rational mind cannot explain things that have happened and are still happening before your eyes? When more particularly you know that for no apparent reason you’d killed your friends who you’d loved throughout your life!
