left and the right, with a sneering expression on his face. ‘You won’t get rid of me, Derek Acorah!’ he stated in a contemptuous voice. ‘I like it here! Two more nice little boys! Oh, how the knife slices so easily through soft young flesh!’
I was sickened by his statement. I remembered Maria’s two young sons and realized that the two murdered children would have been around the same age.
‘Henry and Alfred had such sweet young flesh,’ I heard John say. He gave an evil cackle. ‘I have the power of the master behind me!’
‘Not for very much longer,’ I thought to myself. I realized now that John Wilson assumed he was in league with the devil. Didn’t he realize that no such person or creature existed – that ‘the devil’ was merely man’s personification of all things evil?
I heard Maria returning from the kitchen. Val opened the door for her and she carried in a tray with the two small bowls of salt and water, a white cloth and the seven candles on it.
John Wilson viewed the contents of the tray with interest. His horrible laughter once more echoed around the room.
I cleared the coffee table in the middle of the room, reached for the white cloth and put it on it. John’s eyes narrowed as he watched me. He moved a little nearer to where I was standing.
Next I reached into the bowls and sprinkled the cloth first with a little of the salt and then with some water. At that a great whoosh of energy sent the cloth flying from the table and onto the floor. I bent down to pick it up and replace it once more upon the table. Then there was another surge of energy and I felt the not insignificant presence of John Wilson all around me, trying to overshadow and overpower me. My breath felt as though it had been sucked from my lungs and I struggled to breathe. I could not under any circumstances allow myself to lose consciousness – it was imperative that I remained aware and did not lose control.
‘Put the cloth on the table,’ I struggled to tell the terrified women. ‘Place the bowls on the cloth and line up the candles – green at the front and white behind.’
I felt as though I was being pummelled repeatedly by unseen fists and prayed to Sam and my guardians to help me. I knew that they were there empowering me.
‘Light the candles,’ I almost screamed to Maria, ‘and pray – say the Lord’s Prayer – anything!’
‘Our Father who art in heaven …’ I heard the women begin the familiar words. I joined my voice to theirs, though it was little more than a croak. Then I reached out and grabbed Val’s hand. As I did so, I felt the energy that was attempting to overpower me relinquish its hold a little.
I stretched out and took Maria’s hand. ‘Hold hands! Hold hands and continue!’ I instructed, by now feeling more in control of the situation.
As Maria and Val repeated the hallowed words I prayed fervently for peace to be brought to this home and for the spirit of John Wilson to be taken to the place where he could commence his journey to redemption for his sins against innocent people. Slowly, slowly, I felt his spirit power weaken and eventually fail as the energies of goodness overcame him and he was led by his own guides to the place where he could begin the long process of atoning for his sins.
The flames of the candles flickered. We continued our prayers. Finally, a wonderful peace and calm pervaded the atmosphere. I knew my work was done.
I looked at Maria and Val. They were standing with their eyes tight shut, still holding hands. ‘Do you feel anything?’ I asked them.
Visibly relaxing, they opened their eyes and looked around. ‘I feel warmth and lightness,’ said Maria. ‘It’s something I’ve never felt here before.’
‘The spirit influence causing your problems has gone now,’ I explained. ‘He was a vicious and unhappy soul who once had a connection with this home.’
I did not want to frighten Maria by giving her the details of mass murder that I had witnessed. It was sufficient that she now felt happier and at peace in her home.
After that Maria would occasionally drop by my office in Liverpool to say hello. The problems that she had experienced during the first six months of occupation of her home never returned. I do not know where she is now, whether she is still in that apartment or not, but I am sure that her life since that day has been a happy and progressive one.
Many are the letters I receive from people all over the world telling me of their experiences in connection with the paranormal. It is impossible for me to respond personally to the many letters and e-mails, but I do my best to read them all. Occasionally, if I feel that I can help and if my busy schedule permits, I will contact the person who has written to me and attempt to help them.
One such letter came to me from Anne. Her husband Harry owned a small shop where he sold small electrical goods and hardware just outside Manchester in the Atherton area. Harry had run the shop for many years and in fact had inherited the business from his father.
Anne had included her telephone number in her letter and so I decided that I would contact her. She expanded on what she had briefly outlined in her letter to me – that she and Harry had experienced no problems whatsoever during the years that they had run the shop until one day a friend of hers had asked whether she and some friends could conduct a ‘ghost hunt’ in the old cellars. The friend, together with four other people, including one who purported to be a ‘medium’, had spent the night in the cellar.
Anne had been surprised when her friend had regaled her the following day with stories of evil entities and items being thrown around. The friend had even claimed that she had been pushed down the cellar steps.
Neither Anne nor Harry could ever recall experiencing anything untoward in any part of the shop premises. The cellars, although rather cold, had never caused them concern when venturing down there. In fact, they used them as storage space for stock. Consequently, they were frequently up and down the cellar steps, and neither had ever been pushed.
Since the night of the ‘ghost hunt’, however, both had noticed that the stock in the cellar was being moved around on a regular basis. Once or twice it had looked as though items had been thrown, resulting in some breakages – not something that a small business can afford. The atmosphere in the cellar, and indeed the shop itself, had also changed.
I asked Anne whether she knew what her friend and the group of people had done in the cellar.
‘Well, I know that they held a séance,’ she replied.
I suspected that I now knew what had happened. Anne’s friends had tried to emulate what is frequently seen on paranormal programming these days. They had undoubtedly had sat in a circle and attempted to invoke the spirit world. Unfortunately, they had more than likely done this without taking the necessary precaution of requesting protection for themselves and their surroundings, and they would definitely not have cleared the atmosphere before they left, consequently leaving a portal open and giving any malevolent spirit who wished to enter the cellar a perfect doorway. I doubted very much that the so-called ‘medium’ had any mediumistic abilities whatsoever. If they had, they would have ensured that complete closure had been achieved before the property had been vacated.
It is not, of course, the responsibility of a medium to provide protection for those who choose to enter a potentially haunted location. That is the responsibility of the individual. Any person who blames a medium for any resultant mishaps after an investigation is merely displaying gross ignorance of the paranormal in general and, in my opinion, displaying personal irresponsibility towards themselves. It has been known for an individual to blame an underlying and genetic health condition on a medium by claiming that ‘the medium did not protect