When I was 12, I started being raped at night, while I was sleeping, by an invisible entity. I have no male family members, and the doors were always locked. It happened many times; I lost count of how many. Most of the time, I felt like my eyes were being covered, but once my eyes were uncovered and I saw something invisible raping me. I only told my mom, but after that I learned to tell no one else. It stopped when I was 14. I’m 21 now, and I still don’t really know why that happened.
Then, a week before high school started, I started having horrible dreams/visions/nightmares. The things I saw were horrifying, inhuman things that I just don’t have the vocabulary to describe. The images plagued me constantly, but especially at night. I barely slept through all of high school. Even now, I can’t sleep in a completely dark room.
The only places that have offered any kind of help have been tiny African charismatic churches. Now that I can think clearly again, I realized that there are many things about those churches that I don’t feel comfortable with.
I really want answers outside of those places. I am confident that we will find them, but it may not be within my lifetime, sadly. In the meantime, I just want to see if there are other people who have gone through the same thing I have. If there is, I just don’t want them to feel as alone as I did.
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This happened to me about 15 years ago. I was a youth leader at a christian youth camp. It was during a worship session. Some of the youth wanted to be prayed for. I was praying over this particular girl, when suddenly she falls over “slain in the spirit” as we called it. I continued praying over her, and that’s when a demon started manifesting through her.
Her entire face contorted and her voice changed and no longer sounded like her own. She started screaming, swearing and in particular cursing Jesus. Assuming it was a demon, I rebuked it and told it to come out in the name of Jesus (as I had learnt I was supposed to) That is when it started talking to me directly, telling me things like “I fucking hate you” “You can’t make me let her go” (talking about her as if she was a separate person). It also threatened to hurt me if I didn’t stop. Clearly my prayer was agitating it, since it started pleading with me to stop. I continued addressing the demon, commanding it to let her go in the name of Jesus, eventually she returned to her normal calm and reserved self. She had no memory of what happened. She was generally quite shy and reserved.
I woke up from a dream in which something attacked me – I generally had been able to wake up from bad dreams just by basically opening my eyes. When I woke up, there was something standing over me. It was dark, darker than the darkness of the room around me, in a sort of human-like shape but it didn’t feel human. I was afraid. It reached out and placed its hand on my shoulder. It was ice-cold. I didn’t move. It felt like if I moved then it wouldn’t like it so I didn’t move. After a few seconds, maybe five or so, it removed its hand and continued to stand there. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled my blanket over my head and hid. When I looked again, it was gone. I started sleeping with the light on for a while after that.
My church helped to build a church in rural India. When the church was finished, a team from the church (including the pastor) went to dedicate it and serve the people of the village. They were going to have a really big service and went around the area inviting people. My pastor, the Indian pastor, and my pastor’s son were in a group. They met a woman who said she would come, but could not get her daughter to agree to come with the family. She asked them to talk to her. When they approached the daughter she started yelling at them and tried to attack the Indian pastor. He asked her why she didn’t want to go and the girl just kept shrieking. This kind of thing, according the the local pastor, was not unusual and he knew she was possessed. He asked the demon what its name was and it gave the name of a local cobra goddess. They commanded the demon to leave and prayed with the girl.
Demons have became smarter over the years, now they pick people who don’t have a large social network and try to act somewhat normal.
So my friend tells me the other night she wakes up screaming from her sleep and finds a trinity scratch on her back. I ask her a few basic questions regarding the matter. (I’m a ghost/paranormal hunter) It’s obvious this may be demonic presence. Yet what she tell’s me next is something completely new to me, she says that something was bothering her in the middle of the night one night, slamming doors, and making noises. She said she ignored it for the most part but woke up the next morning with what looked like the markings of Horse teeth in her pillows.
I woke up one day in February after a night of drinking (which I now realized weakened me somehow, or put me in a vulnerable state) with rather intense gashes/ cuts that were unexplained. I checked for the usual sharp items in bed excuse but nothing there. So I went home from the friends house I had partied at and went home to nap, only to wake up 5 hours later with more unexplained scratches. I didn’t feel any of the injuries…at first. I will give some background on some things, I grew up Christian and still am, I fell from faith in 2008 and this experience is drawing me back to it. I believe as well that added to attracting what i have. But anywho, after the first few times I brushed it off for the most part after doing some light googling with no results that raised alarm.
It started up again, and it made me nervous, with the advice of a friend I decided to pray and sage my apartment. I also forgot to mention my cat began to follow something with her eyes when I entered the room after all this started. What ever it is she sees it hover over me taller than me.
Back to the saging/praying, I was alone as my roommate just left and I began to pray with conviction for it to leave and protection over my home. That’s when shit got crazy :/ I herd a loud pop and fizzle noise come loudly from my bedroom as I was in the kitchen area, I run back to my room thinking my cat knocked something over, I open my door to a spontaneous lighter fire happening on my bedside stand. And had take a cell phone photo, because proof or gtfo. So I was seriously creeped the f out at this point, it has to be demonic if the holy trinity angers it sooo much. Right? Anyways so I tried praying with no avail, so with the advice of a significant other at the time I took my mind off it. Until it started harming him too. I have those photos too, he got scratched too but never bruised but through out this entire time we both had nightmares. We broke up and this phenomenon trudged on. So here recently it has escalated and now I’m getting in touch with my pastor to help.
Recently it has been scratching me at work, making the lights flicker at work and home. It has escalated it’s bruising and now harms me when I talk about Jesus out loud. If any of you have advice it is welcome but for the most part I hope this helps anyone else going thru this to feel less alone. I am quitting partying of all kind today forward, and plan to further my journey to a relationship with God like I had before, I really believe after all my research and experience it will help.
Sleeping in my parents’ house at the age of about seventeen, I suddenly awoke to a “white cloud” hovering outside the window. The “cloud” entered the room through the closed window, entered me, and I sprang from bed speaking an unknown language with great authority and pointing at the outside wall of the bedroom. A demon spirit came out of me having great fear of Him who had entered me and went quickly through the wall at the exact location where I was pointing. I woke the entire house and they all heard the unknown language, but stated they were frozen in fear in their beds and could not move.
I have seen many demon spirits over the years since this happened, some on their own and some inside of other people.
Wasn’t me but my friend was on a mission trip in Africa and saw a possession. The doctors said nothing was wrong with her medically, but she was obviously possessed, and they consented to an exorcism. It was nothing Hollywood style, but still serious.
I have a neighbor who told us recently that she was woken in the night by the sound of a large shelf that had been mounted to the wall in another room falling violently. She was puzzled when she looked because she found it across the room from where it was mounted and she could not understand how or why it would have fallen. She is a Catholic (possibly just Christmas and Easter) and decided to call the Church to have her house blessed. They sent the Diocesan exorcist (every Catholic Diocese is supposed to have one). He asked her some questions and learned that our friends adult daughter had been staying with her recently and was using the phone to make calls to an occultist/psychic. If you read up on demonology you see that a common pattern involves people opening themselves up to spirits through ouija boards or other occult practices–sometimes the invitation is accepted and can be followed by stages called infestation (noises, scratching, things falling), oppression (more serious disruptions in the home), and sometimes possession. The priest conducted a blessing of her home and land, and our friend said she had an incredible feeling of relief and security and protection. Non-believers will dismiss this account as having other explanations, and I can’t say with certainty what happened. I just know she is an intelligent, level-headed person and she herself couldn’t explain the way the shelf seemed to have launched itself across the room when only she was there, but this fits a common pattern described in books on demonology (it wasn’t possession of course, just seemed to be the beginning of infestation). Maybe many of these instances have other, non-paranormal explanations. But can we dismiss them all?
I have been involved in “exorcising” people from demonic oppression. I’m not talking about “possession” (being unable to control your body), but rather being oppressed by a demon.
This includes things like causing anxiety for you or those around you, misfortune, a tendency to get caught up in immorality, a general lack of peace (or feeling like you have no freedom), and many many other things.
I had a friend who was going through it, and I was able to spend some time and release her from it. Well, not that I released her, but by using the name of Christ demons are powerless.
It’s a very, very draining experience that I really don’t look forward to. Demon’s often try to trick you into thinking they aren’t there, and it takes a lot of persistence.
My friend is a Lutheran Pastor and he had to do one. I saw the pictures they took and everything. He said that, at that very moment during the Exorcism, he has never been so scared in his life. She was speaking Hebrew, Latin, a lot of it was backwards and she had very old biblical markings on her skin, in areas that were very hard to produce if she was trying to do it on her own. (She did not know anything about these languages according to her friends and family… Investigations were done to ensure that she was just not mentally unfit, but that there is actually something there that’s not explainable.) She was a non-believer and she started having issues after playing with a Ouija board. I also asked him what priests think “house hauntings” were, and they mentioned it’s a tactic from the devil to use demons to shake your faith. Meaning, people might start question their faith since according to our faith that we are judged to Heaven or Hell not too haunt or be stuck in a spiritual form.
I was told not to talk about this, but a few years back my neighbor witnessed an exorcism on his hunting land. I don’t feel comfortable talking about the details but basically what happened was that someone he knew used his land for the exorcism and he watched it and said it was terrifying. He said he didn’t really believe in possession and exorcisms until he saw it for himself.
This sort of “experience” (if it even deserves that title) has happened to me many times–particularly when I am feeling weak and alone. Often it will occur at night. I will wake up in the dead of the night, inexplicably paralyzed by a deep and pervasive fear. It is the sort of fear that Reason has no rule over–the most primal and animal fear I have ever experienced. Suddenly I begin to see horrible things in the most ordinary household objects–a coat rack begins to look like a corpse hanging by a noose, a pile of clothes begins to seem like a black form crawling from an abyss. I recognize that these things are just ordinary items, I know by my reason that my senses are playing tricks on me–but that’s the problem. My senses usurp the mastery of my reason, and I become an animal, quivering behind a pillow, clutching a statuette of St. George slaying a dragon, and sobbing a prayer to God to give me dreamless sleep, or to cause the sun to rise early.
After this happened a few times, I began to feel for some reason a distinct “presence” in each of these episodes. I began to realize it wasn’t the things that I thought I saw that terrified me, but the things that I knew I could not see even if they were there. And somehow it got into my head, and I don’t know why, that this was a very specific presence, and his name was Asmodeus. I don’t know why this name came to me, but I would find myself whispering under my breath “Asmodeus begone in the name of Jesus Christ,” or something to that effect. I guess I gave it that name because these episodes would happen particularly when I had been viewing pornography, or went to bed angry. The helplessness of my fear as I would lie there paralyzed felt somehow akin to my helplessness in falling to sexual sin–my senses overtaking my reason. Then at some point I read the Book of Tobit for the first time, and noted the character Asmodeus appearing there as well as a lustful and wrathful spirit, and how he was banished by the burning of some fish bits.
These episodes have not been happening recently, even though I still struggle with sexual sin. I am not saying I have been having encounters with a demon, but nevertheless its presence in my mind is unnerving in its persistence. Have you ever felt anything like this? Have you ever been convinced of a demonic presence? Thoughts? I dunno, I guess I don’t know what I’m asking. but that’s my story, I’m sticking to it.
I used to be a Christian. In my sophomore year of Bible college, I signed up for a summer missions trip to Latvia. After flying into the city of Riga, eleven other students and I—along with the two faculty members who were leading the missionary trip—took a bus out to a tiny, backwoods village named Pilcene. Our job was to spread the gospel amongst these people.
The historical meeting point between myth-loving Germania and death-obsessed Russia, with a deep connection to its own native paganism, rural Latvia has many legends and superstitions. Pilcene is no exception. The villagers all had their own piece of advice. A few could speak some broken English. They would tell us things like “Do not whistle inside a room,” or “Keep the devil from shitting in your wallet”. One tiny, wrinkled man once appeared from nowhere, clasping my arm in his withered hands, and forcing some kind of homemade, chiseled metal coin into my palm. He said only the word, “Miris,” which means, “the dead,” and left me.
It was three days into our missions trip when one of the boys from our group fell ill. At first, it was nothing more than a bit of nausea—from all the sour egg soup we had been subsisting on, we guessed. The next morning, he didn’t get up. I remember visiting him in the cottage where he was being hosted by an elderly couple. His face was ivory white and he breathed like he was breathing through a straw. He was in such pain that he couldn’t be moved, so we had to send for a doctor from a bigger city.
We college kids spent that day in a circle around him, praying our hearts out. He went still at about three o’clock in the afternoon. The doctor never came. The locals insisted he be buried before nightfall. We insisted his body be airlifted and sent back to the States to be interred according to his parents’ wishes. I remember watching our missions leaders screaming at the village elders, demanding that the boy not be buried. Our leaders wanted to wait for a vehicle to come from the city to take his body to a proper morgue to be prepared for shipping back overseas. That didn’t stop the villagers from digging his grave in the woods just outside of town. Emotions boiled over. Our rapport with the villagers evaporated. We resented them, and they no longer trusted us. Just four days into the trip, our mission to spread the gospel was over. It had become an international spat.
On the morning on the fifth day, I was woken up by the frenzied yelling. Our missions leaders demanded to know what the villagers had done with the boy’s body. The villagers maintained that they had not moved it. They took us to the empty grave to prove that they had not buried it.
Two of the girls in our group woke up feeling off that day. They didn’t tell anyone, because they chalked it up to emotional stress. By the afternoon, their uncontrollable vomiting made their illnesses undeniable. The remaining students held a fervent vigil outside the hut where they lay. Just before midnight that night, one of the girls passed away. The other one followed at about three o’clock in the morning. Three village elders marched into the hut. The one in the lead was carrying a wooden stake and mallet. I, a 19-year-old man, wept when I watched our mission leaders have to physically wrestle the village elders to keep them from impaling my classmates’ corpses.
Late the morning of the sixth day, we awoke to find an eerie silence pervading the town. Our two missions leaders were the newest victims of this illness. During the night, they had been guarding the two corpses from villagers intent upon desecrating them. The two female corpses had now disappeared. Both of our missions leaders died in the early afternoon. Eight students and I were now alone in a backwoods foreign country. None of us could speak more than a few dozen words in Latvian. We had no link to our home, and we knew so little of the culture we were in. Our missions leaders’ hearts were staked, and their bodies were buried.
I knew that evil spirits were at work here. The devil had sabotaged our mission. All we could do was pray and wage spiritual warfare.
When another one of our girls fell ill on the seventh day, the other students and I were helpless to watch the strongest men of the village lay her—still struggling to breathe, eyes darting around frantically—into a long wooden box, wrap it in ropes and chains, and lower it into the earth.
The contagion spread rapidly the next day. At least a dozen new cases were discovered in the morning. I will never forget the sight of walking into my host family’s cottage that evening and finding the man and woman slumped up against the wall like rag dolls, gaping holes in their chests. All evening the sound of falling soil rang through the countryside like the falling of raindrops in a storm. Countless graves were being dug.
On the fourteenth day, I myself fell ill. At the first sign of nausea and dizziness, I knew I could not stay in the village. I began walking into the forest, growing weaker with every step. I believed I would die in the woods, but told myself it would be better than having a stake driven through my heart or being buried alive. I pulled myself along for hours, stopping every so often to vomit. I reached a clearing in the woods, with some sort of brick building that had a satellite dish outside. To this day, I still do not know what this building was. When I saw it, it felt like there was a violent squall inside my head, buffeting me to and fro. I could not keep my balance.
I woke up two days later in a hospital in Riga, and was soon transferred to a hospital in London, before finally being allowed to travel home to the States. I learned later that only four other students had been found to have survived, when provincial authorities had entered Pilcene to put a stop to the hysteria. When I found out that our illnesses had been caused by a super-aggressive strain of amoebas in the drinking water, I laughed at myself for blaming “demons” for everything that had happened to us. We humans are capable of creating our own hell.
About 2 years ago I had what I feel was my first major confrontation with something possibly demonic.
I won’t go too deep into details unless someone asks, but basically I was very depressed and angry at the actions of another. Towards the end of the academic year, I started feeling something more than just a depression. It was a presence of some sort. I sort of got fed up, so the last week of classes I decided that whenever this feeling would come, I would just sleep, because it would go away after. So for the week I did that. Final presentation rolled up, and I was all set and ready to go. I come home from a really great final. By this time I’d learn to put my depression into a burning fire to make me more productive. My work was fueled by emotional distress, and so it was rather good in the professor’s opinions. But I still felt that presence. So I decided to go sleep to my victory. I came home and I knew something was different. A wasp that was in my room had spontaneously died. I knew that was off a bit. I didn’t care, I went to sleep to remove this presence.
Around midnight, I heard from within my sleep a noise. This caused me to become aware that I was still awake. (I was in that sort of twilight state after a dream when you can easily wake up to things around you.) I can differentiate the difference between a sound of the mind, and a sound of reality (The same goes for visuals and other aspects of the dream. I used to lucid dream a lot) . But this one was strange. I was conscious and not dreaming, but the sound was as if it were from my mind, yet it was coming from outside of my body. I was felt quite odd about it, so I decided I would get up to see what it was.
That’s when things went to wtf-city. Before I could fully get up or open my eyes, something pounced on me and smacked me right back down. It stuck something like two or maybe more claws into my neck, and began to bite. Whatever it was, it put me in a state of painless electric shock. I’ve been electrocuted before. Both in childhood, and teen years. It’s a burning feeling, but besides the burn, it’s that strange pulsating pressure feeling as well. That’s what I felt. Not the burn, but the rapid pulse. It was like I was getting electrocuted, but it was painless. Like, between me and this unknown entity, there was some kind of shield protecting me. I don’t really remember how long this lasted for, but it was only a few seconds. It couldn’t breach the shield. I think it thought it could, but it failed to.
Another strange thing happened while I was in this state. It was as if, although it could not breach the shield, I could breach into it. It was like there was some passage of information that I cannot quite explain, but the information I grabbed out of it was its appearance. Despite the fact that my eyes were closed, I could see this creature with my mind. It imprinted itself onto my visuals through this connection. But because I could touch it, but it could not touch me, I think it became afraid. I could sense something like that. Not really sure. After having bitten me for a few seconds, it ran away in fear. I was too shocked to consider what had happened to me, so I fell asleep quickly after.
Again, a few hours later in the night. Maybe 3? It stalked me. Similarly, I woke up and tried to get up to see what the noise was. But this time it did not bite me. It hit me. It was perhaps a need for revenge? Was it angry? I don’t remember. But it woke me up again, and it hit me pretty hard. Enough to push me back down onto my bed before I could catch a glimpse of it.
It flew off.
I wept, but this time, I prayed, rather than remain shocked.
The next morning, I went to eat. I felt off. Not sure if it was that presence again, but it was like waking up still a little drunk. When I sat down, a light bulb fell down from above me. Freaky shit was still happening.
I talked to other people.
Turns out I wasn’t alone. A friend of mine had woken up to growling noise in the morning. And I’d recalled after some time that another friend of mine had seen something similar on his window frame some short time prior to my own experiences.
Since then, I’ve not had a similar experience. Rarely…very rarely, I think I still feel the same presence. But I think I taught it a lesson.
I’ll draw what it looked like within my mind if anyone asks. It’s still a very vivid image. Burned into my memory.
I think the thing that I was thinking about for the longest time was that I did not call out to Jesus until the second attack. I always was afraid of why I didn’t call to him the first some. See I don’t really remember what happened between the two events. All I remember is feeling shocked, and then it was a few hours later and it was happening again. I’m paranoid to think what happened in those hours that I might have either forgotten or suppressed. Who knows?
But the thing is. If I didn’t cry to Jesus that first attack…then maybe God was the one doing it, knowing that I’d come to him the second time.
And in many ways that’s the story of my life. Too much of either a prideful fool or a fearful coward to turn to God the first time. Always have to fail twice to turn to God. I pray I’ve moved passed that practice.
Which reminds me actually. Had a dream that was the closest I’d felt to a similar event like the above only a month or so ago. But that time, I immediately started praying to my God in what little Hebrew I know. And he took control. (I’ll go more into this dream if someone asks.)