Читать книгу Derek Acorah: Extreme Psychic - Derek Acorah - Страница 8

My home city of Liverpool is rich in stories of haunted houses and ghostly events. It has seen more than its fair share of events, being not only one of the UK’s major cities but also once one of England’s most important seaports. During the years when I had an office in the city centre, I was often asked about events taking place in people’s homes. If I felt that I could help these people I usually did, and on most occasions it was discovered that the slight disturbances being experienced were the work of people from the spirit world who were in visitation to family members merely to let them know they were around. Occasionally the spirit people would be attempting to warn their loved ones of a wrong decision about to be made or an event about to take place that might cause concern to the family. More often than not, by opening up to the emanations surrounding the querant I could provide answers to their questions via the good offices of Sam. There was one occasion, however, when I felt that a visit to the person’s house was in order, as I could pick nothing up in the aura of the young woman concerned that would explain the events she described taking place in her home.

The houses around the Great Georges Street area of Liverpool are large. They were once the homes of the well-to-do and the area was considered highly respectable. Maria lived just around the corner from Great Georges Street in one such house that had been converted into apartments. She had moved into the ground-floor apartment with her husband and her two children – boys aged three and five – approximately six months earlier.

Maria told me that from the time that she and her family had moved into their home she had never felt particularly settled. For some reason she had always felt worried about her children and did not like to leave them alone in any room on their own. Even when they were in bed she felt the urge to keep checking on them to make sure that they were safe, even though she knew that no harm could possibly come to them. Her husband, she told me, was becoming more than a little irritated by her constant checking and nervousness about their two sons, especially as she now refused to go out without them, which had effectively brought to an end the Saturday nights out that they used to enjoy while their sons were in the care of a babysitter. It had reached the point where Maria’s nervousness was having a detrimental effect on her marriage. A further house move was out of the question because Maria’s husband could find nothing wrong with their home and it had the added bonus of being close to his work in a nearby restaurant. With late working hours, it was simple for him to walk the short distance home rather than have to get a cab.

‘Joe thinks it’s all rubbish and imaginings,’ Maria explained to me, ‘and it’s true that there’s nothing tangible there. Nothing has happened – yet! I feel, though, that before too long things may start to happen and I’m afraid for my two boys.’

I could see that Maria was truly frightened. I could tell that she was a very sensitive soul and was obviously picking up something from the atmosphere of the house in which she lived. I decided that the only way to get any answers for her was to actually visit her home to see what I could find out.

On the appointed day I arrived outside the large old house. As I stood on the doorstep waiting for Maria to answer the bell, I felt a sense of unease overcome me. Just standing there, before I had even entered the house, I knew that something sinister had taken place within the four walls. In spite of obvious renovation over the years, there still remained the ominous presence of death.

As I heard footsteps approaching the front door I whispered a prayer of protection and asked Sam to draw close to me. Almost immediately I felt his reassuring presence and heard his quiet voice reply, ‘I’m here, Derek.’

Maria opened the door. As she did so, immediately the feelings that had assailed my senses grew tenfold. I was whisked back in time to the mid-Victorian era. The white painted hallway faded and was replaced by a much darker decoration – brown paint and dark woodwork. The carpeted floor was replaced by a tiled floor with a chequered pattern. Horrifyingly, on the floor lay the body of a woman, horribly butchered – her blood was splattered up the walls and pooled across the floor.

I was snapped back to the present day by Maria’s greeting: ‘Hello, Derek. Welcome! Do come in.’

I walked into a long passageway with various doors leading off it. These I presumed led to the other rooms in the building. Maria led me along the hallway to the rear of the house and invited me into the kitchen, which looked out onto a relatively small yard area. She introduced me to her friend Val, whom she had invited along for moral support.

Once more, when entering the room, I was taken back in time clairvoyantly. The bright paintwork and stainless steel kitchen equipment had been replaced by a dismal-looking room containing a copper boiler and a huge stone sink. Once upon a time this room had been a scullery of sorts, where laundering of the family’s clothes and linen had taken place. Again, the whole place was smeared with blood – it lay in pools on the floor and was smeared on the walls. I looked down and it was even more horrifying – there was the body of a small boy, his head almost severed. Next to him lay a long-bladed knife.

Desperately I fought the feeling of nausea that threatened to overcome me and tried to bring myself back to the present day. The horrific scene began to dissipate and once more I was back in the pleasant, bright modern-day kitchen. I accepted the cup of coffee that Maria was offering me.

I was definitely beginning to understand why a sensitive person such as Maria was finding it difficult living in what should have been a very nice and comfortable home. I asked her where her children were. She told me that she had dropped them off earlier at her mother’s home. I was more than pleased to hear that the two lads were safe and away from what could turn out to be a rather difficult situation.

I felt that I would need the concentration and energy of both Maria and Val on this occasion. When we had finished our coffee I asked whether I could go back down the hallway and into the room at the front of the apartment and which looked out over the street.

Maria and Val accompanied me. On opening the door to what was a pleasant and comfortable lounge, again I was whooshed back in time to a room heavy with dark Victoria decoration, gas mantles and solid furniture. Once more my clairvoyant eye took in the horrifying spectacle of murder and carnage. A girl lay bleeding profusely on the floor. Close by the body of another boy – a little older than the one in the kitchen – lay slumped by the ornate fireplace. My ears rang with the screams and cries of the four victims who had passed on to the world of spirit so horrifically more than 100 years earlier. I was sickened by the sound of a knife hacking and slashing through flesh and bone. The acrid smell of blood hung heavy in the air.

Up to this point in time I had merely viewed the horrific aftermath of a mass murder, the emanations of which hung in the atmosphere due, I knew, to the regular spirit return of the perpetrator of the horrendous crime. After a few moments of standing in the room opening myself up further to the terrible emanations I began to detect a spirit presence. A young man began to emerge from the ether. He was not tall – around 5 feet, 6 inches – and was of stocky build. His dark hair, though covered by a hat, hung down the sides of his face and he wore a dark coat with light-coloured trousers. He had a wild expression upon his face and his hands hung down limply by his sides. They were covered in the blood of his victims.

I sensed an evil in the spirit of the man standing before me – an evil combined with a complete lack of feeling for anything or anybody. When on the Earth plane, he had been a deranged soul willing to do anything to earn himself a few shillings. I had the impression that he had once been connected in some way to the sea. I felt that somehow he had inveigled himself into this house and had dispatched the occupants with no more feeling or compassion than one would have in swatting a fly.

I prayed once more silently to Sam. Again I heard him whisper close by me, ‘I’m here.’

I knew that I had to rid the home of the evil the spirit man had brought with him. Sam’s voice told me, ‘He did not escape man’s justice – he was hanged for his crimes. He is John – John Wilson. Now he needs to face spiritual justice so that he can progress and find his proper place in the spirit world.’

I had not come equipped to perform a candle rite to clear the atmosphere of a spirit’s presence, as I had not dreamed that I would require such radical action when I had set out that morning. I hoped that Maria would be able to help. I could see from the surroundings that she had a number of candles.

In order not to unduly frighten the two young women I quietly asked Maria whether she could help by providing a white cloth, two bowls – one filled with salt and one with water – and seven candles – three green and four white. I was relieved when she said that she could. She left the room.

John was still standing watching me, his eyes flickering to the 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.