How Could She Possibly Have Fallen to Sleep When Her Heart Was Breaking?

The Winchester mansion’s construction began in 1887. In the dead center of this 160-room catacomb, it is rumored that the house would swallow people whole. Amidst specially designed thousand-dollar stained-glass doors and windows, anti-social kids would melt back into obscurity. It was on the evening of August 25, 1889 that a man was discovered on the stairwell leading to the third floor, wearing only his underwear, had sustained 25 stab wounds to the face and chest. Rumours abounded concerning the perpetrators of this frenzied attack: fundamentalist Christians, a rival of Mrs. Winchester’s from San Francisco, fanatical anti-Nazis were all suggested on the grapevine. The evil act was perpetrated, like some troop of Satanic boy scouts were thirsty for blood, while listening to haunting hymns of the Norse gods of old. It was terrible. Mrs. Winchester patiently waited for someone to remove the body, the thick carpet was bloody and blood trickled down the walls, as it dripped from the ceiling. But across her fact was a frightful gash, like a sabre-cut, deep and shadowy within, but clean and sharp at the edges. When the butler tenderly pressed her head to close the gaping wound, the edges made a find grating sound, that was painful to hear, and the lids of the dark eyes quivered and trembled as Mrs. Winchester was also suffering dreadfully. “Poor Mrs. Winchester!” he exclaimed sorrowfully. “But I shall not hurt you much, though you will take a long time to get strong.” After done tending to Mrs. Winchesters wound, he wrapped the body in plastic and dragged it to the basement to incinerate it in the furnace. Mrs. Winchester had evidently not been long in the World; for her complexion was perfect, her hair was smooth where is should be smooth, and surely where it should be curly, and her silk clothes were perfectly new. #RandolphHarris 1 of 12

This is why Mrs. Winchester’s arrival to the valley was sensational. The valley was thrilled by the dramatic entrance of a millionairess; by those freight cars sidetracked in Santa Clara, unloading rich imported furnishing. However, also intriguing was the fact that the mansion seemed to mushroom to 500 rooms in what seemed like a matter of day, but people were also spooked by the ghostly screams heard coming from inside and the shadowy figures that lurked in the windows at night and that could be seem in daylight, quiet frequently, stalking about in the Victorian gardens. The longer Mrs. Winchester worked on her glorious estate, the more fond the spirits became of her chestnut brown hair, and caramel coloured eyes. The ghosts sat for hours gazing at Mrs. Winchester’s delicate face. She was wonderfully mended. She was quite strong, and in a valley where she could live for a hundred years to tell of the fearful curse that had befallen her and the Winchester mansion. As the twilight deepened, Mrs. Winchester grew anxious, and walked up and down the zig zag stairs, no longer able to think of Annie and William. An indefinable, disquieting sensation came upon her by fine degrees, a chilliness and a faint stirring of her thick hair, joined with a wish to be in any company rather than to be alone with the ghosts much longer. It was the beginning of fear. She stood back from the table, to get out of the way of the chair, and began to cross the board floor. Something was following her in the dark. There was a small pattering, as of tiny feet upon the boards. She stopped and listened, and the roots of her hair tingled. It was nothing. She made two steps more, and she was sure that she heard the litter pattering again. Mrs. Winchester turned her back to the window, leaning against the sadh so that the panes began to crack, and she faced the dark. Everything was quite still. #RandolphHarris 2 of 12

Mrs. Winchester sensed that someone was in the room. “Is anyone there?” she cried. But no answer in the room. Just darkness. Mrs. Winchester was shocked at how long she had been alone. She was shocked and frightened, and she ran across the room to the door. As she fumbled for the door handle, he distinctly heard the running of the little feet after her. “Mice!” she exclaimed feebly, just as she got the door open. She shut it quickly behind her, and felt as though some cold thing had settled on her back and were withering upon her. The passage was quite dark, but she could hear laughter and calls of children, playing some game out of doors. She wondered how she could have been so nervous, and for an instant she thought of the motive from the crime that had occurred that evening. A gaggle of adolescent nihilists who found themselves transformed into a “cult” or naughty spirits? There were a number of similar cases that received plenty of attention on the “Satanic” angle. There was a story of a ghoul stabbing a priest to death. Another ghoul murdered an unpopular fifteen-year-old boy. And another ghoul shot a man in the neck at the back of Italy. Two young farmers were convicted of the crime, both had alibis, however. While these murders—which occurred alongside a spate grave desecration, the violence barely made a ripple. However, around 100 youths, chiefly from affluent families in the valley, were arrested and charged with “Satan worship.” Their homes were ransacked and “evidence”—such as voo doo dolls, drawings, and magic spells was recovered. It was rumoured that the Winchester mansion was so large, these kids held “Satanic Parties” while Mrs. Winchester slept. One of the accused observed, “I don’t have anything to do with Satanism. I joined because their parties were exciting, and people wore amazing costumes and appear and disappeared right before my eyes.” #RandolphHarris 3 of 12

There is no justification for those who stir up hostility, commit acts of blasphemy, vandalism, violence and even murder. But, when it came to the Winchester mansion, it was hard to tell if the ghosts were real, supernatural, or a mixture of both. When the feared tide of violence failed to break Mrs. Winchester, business as normal resumed. It was one o’clock in the morning when Mrs. Winchester went up stairs to her bedroom. As she turned the key to unlock the door again, worn out and hopeless and broken-hearted, her heart stood still, for she knew that she was awake and not dreaming, and that she really heard those tiny footsteps pattering to meet her in the passage of her house. However, she was too unhappy to be much frightened any more, and her heart went on again with a dull regular pain, that found its way all through her with every pulse. So she went in her room in the dark, and lite a candle. Mrs. Winchester was so completely devastated that she sat down in her chair before the work-table and almost fainted, as her face dropped forward upon her folded hands. Beside her the solitary candle burned steadily with a low flame in the still warm air. She was so terrible hurt that she did not even feel something pulling at her nightgown so gently that it was like the nibbling of a tiny mouse. If she had noticed it, she might have thought that it was really a mouse. Then a coo breath stirred her thin hair, and the low flame of the one candle dropped down almost to a mere spark, not flickering as though a draught were going to blow it out, but just dropping as if it were tired out. Mrs. Winchester felt her hands stiffening with fright under her face; and there was a faint rustling sound, like some small silk thing blown in a gentle breeze. She sat up straight, stark, and scared, and a small ghoulish voice spoke to her. #RandolphHarris 4 of 12

“Ma-ma” it said, with a break between the syllable. Mrs. Winchester stood up with a single jump, and her chair feel over backwards with a smashing noise upon the wooden floor. The candle had almost gone out. It was Annie’s voice that had spoken, and she should have known it among the voices of a hundred other ghosts. And yet there was something more in it, a little human ring, with a pitiful cry and a call for help, and the wail of a hurt child. Mrs. Winchester stood up, stake and stiff, and tried to look round, but at first, she could not, for she seemed to be frozen from head to foot. Then she made a great effort, and she raised one hand to each of her temples, and pressed her own head round as she would have turned a manikin’s head. The candle was burning so low that it might as well have been out altogether, for any light it gave, and the room seemed quite dark at first. Then she saw something. She would have no believed that she could be more frighted than she had been just before that. However, she was, and her knees shook, for she saw her daughter Annie standing in the middle of the floor, shining with a faint and ghostly radiance, her pretty glassy brown eyes fixed on her. And across Annie’s face and her delicate pink lips was a smile, and her chubby ruby red cheeks. Yet there was something more in the eyes, too; there was something more human than ghostly. It was enough to bring back all of Mrs. Winchester’s pain which made her forget her fear. “Annie! My little Annie!,” she cried aloud. The small ghost moved. “Ma-ma,” it said. It seemed this time that there was even more of Annie’s tone echoing somewhere between the wooden notes that reached her ears so distinctly, and yet so far away. Annie was calling her, Mrs. Winchester was sure she was. Her face was perfectly white in the gloom, but her knees did not shake any more, and she felt that she was less frightened. “Yes, baby girl! Where are you? Where are you?” she asked. “Where are you, Annie?” “Ma-ma!” #RandolphHarris 5 of 12

Annie died when she was only six weeks old, so these were the first words Mrs. Winchester ever heard her speak. She broke down in tears, not realizing that the Satanic ritual the boy performed had manifested her daughter who had been running around in the mansion for days trying to get her attention. Annie had lost her left shoe and was trying to get Mrs. Winchester attention so she could put it back on her. Mrs. Winchester had not been dreaming. The candle burned brightly now, and she heard Annie’s foot steps running to the door. Mrs. Winchester had fallen asleep and was not able to tend to her ghost child. How could she possibly have fallen asleep when her heart was breaking? She said what a fool she was. She should have been out in the streets looking for her child. “Ma-ma!” The longing, wailing, pitiful little wooden cry rang from the secret passage behind the wall, which was being a wall, and behind another wall. Mrs. Winchester stood for a moment later her hand was on the handle. Then she was in the secret room, with the light streaming from the open door behind her. Quite at the other end she saw the little phantom shining clearly in the shadow, and the right hand seemed to beckon to her as the arm rose and fell once more. She knew all at once that it had not come to fright her, but lead her, and when it disappeared, an she walked boldly towards the door, she knew that it was in the safe, waiting for her. Mrs. Winchester forgot she was tired and had eaten no supper, and had walked many miles, for a sudden hope ran through and through her, like a golden stream of life. And sure enough, it led her to the door-to-nowhere. She saw the small ghost flitting before her. Sometimes it was only a shadow, where there was other light, but then the glare of the gasoliers made a pale green sheen on the wall. The entire figure shone out brightly, with its light brown hair with blonde highlights. #RandolphHarris 6 of 12

Baby Annie seemed to trot like a tiny child, and Mrs. Winchester could almost hear the pattering of the golden slippers on the hardwood floors as it ran. However, it went so very fast, and she could only just keep up with it, tearing along with her thick brown hair blown by the night breeze. Then the little angel was gone. Mrs. Winchester was suddenly troubled and disturbed. She heard noises as if chains were being rattled, together with crashes and sounds of knocking. Her bed began to move up and down repeatedly. At first she did not know whether it was a sign of mental illness or a result of her magi practices. She tried to read her Bible and pray but this was almost impossible. She was convinced that the source of the trouble lay in some evil power. Mrs. Winchester went to one of her friends, a Christian woman in Oakland, and subsequently a group was formed to pray for her. At first she wavered between faith and doubt. She was in a turmoil. She longed to be at peace with God but could not rid herself of a terrible feeling of fear. The battled lasted for decades. In the end she saw a vision of a golden cup being handed down from Heaven It was full of blood and the words came to her, “This is the blood of Christ which has been shed for you.” From that moment her attacks ceased as she believed in her Saviour. Faith in Christ had delivered her. However, there was still two kinds of spirits in the Winchester mansion. The ones that smiles like a dame of Heaven before she is married, and the ones that gets to be tearing devils after her market’s made and she has got a husband. In the summer of 1898, a demon-possessed farmer at the Winchester mansion heard of the Christian gospel through Mrs. Winchester. He then tore down his Victorian cottage Mrs. Winchester provided for, which had been his shrine and ceased worshipping the demon. The death of his sick child occurred a few days later. In great distress his wife urged him to restore the shrine and resume the worship, believing her daughter’s death was caused by the offended demon. #RandolphHarris 7 of 12

However, the new Christian remained adamant and refused to break his vow to worship and trust in Jesus. A few days later, the demon Bifrons returned and spoke through his victim to the wife: “I have returned but for one visit. If your husband is determined to be a Christian, this is no place for me. But I wish to tell you I have nothing to do with the death of your child.” Demons not only know of Christ, who had delivered people from the power of demons, they are experts in their own bailiwick. They share in the cunning subtlety and deception of Satan and carry on his work with great skill in an effort to blind the minds of unbelievers (2 Corinthians 4.4). The possession of extraordinary knowledge always characterizes the demon as he speaks through the body of his victim. Powers of oratory and poetic expression and the gift of ventriloquism are often evidenced. Perhaps the most striking character is the demon’s ability to speak languages unknow by the subject. This is a widespread phenomenon frequently referred to by Chinese witnessed. In Germany under the ministry of Pastor John Christopher Blumhardt (1805-1880), demons encountered in his prayer cures “spoke in all the different European languages, and in some which Blumhardt and others present did not recognize. The victim’s new personality often displays not only supernatural knowledge but supernatural physical strength and other physical alterations as well. Rapid change of facial expression quickly turns friendliness into dreadful grimace. A sudden shift of voice, perhaps from a high soprano to a resounding bass, introduced the new personality. These psychic transformations are commonly accompanied by a display of tremendous physical strength, often expressed in delirium, wild flailing of hands and feet, and destructive mania endangering those near at hand. Frail women or even children under demon possession can resist three or four strong men. #RandolphHarris 8 of 12

Children who have visited the Winchester mansion report bursting forth with unified voices. They say that witch’s specters come to torment them. In 1888, one child was demon possessed for more than ten days, while visiting the Winchester mansion. He has such show of physical strength that the people had leashed him to a tree like an animal. As soon as the farmers prayed for him, the chained boy gave several mighty leaps in the air and said, “Take off the chains!” The people were afraid to obey, but the took the chains off the boy and led him quietly into the house, where the victim fell into a peaceful sleep. Satanism that had emerged in the New World was very different from its European counterpart. According to the confessions, the witches met in a pasture outside the Winchester mansion at night. A trumpet was sounded, audible to all witches in Santa Clara County, but never heard by those who were not in tuned to the supernatural. The witches, thus signaled, mounted, their broomsticks and flew to the meeting. Once there, they all sat in an orderly congregation, partaking of the sacrament in the usual manner, except for the fact that both blood and wafers. Then they heard a sermon delivered by the Devil. The sermon usually dealt with the overthrow of the theocratic system then in existence and the abolition of strict social laws; the new system that would follow would bring with it greater abundance and more pleasurable life. The singing of the Devil’s book was present, but the initiates differed as to the method of signing. Few of the confessors said they had signed the book in the traditional manner, with their own blood, but most of them had signed with plain pen and ink. Epidemics of possession tend to occur most frequently in times of social tension. Since a possessed person is no longer responsible for one’s behavior, such outbreaks function psychologically as a release, as a means of casting off authority with impunity, as well as a method of casting off authority with impunity, as well as a method of projecting repressed doubts or guilt. “The Devil made me do it.” #RandolphHarris 9 of 12

It is not surprising, then, that outbreaks of mysterical contagion have historically taken place in areas where authority, manifested in an overpowering social structure or system of values, was the greatest, and where emotional safety of values, was the greatest, and where emotional safety valves for bleeding off social tensions were the least. Ironically, though the criminal antics of the Black Metal Circle attracted the international attention that led to the genre’s global renaissance, most current black metal bands distance themselves of the early 1990s—while conceding that they lent the genre a pathological allure. There is an ambivalence at work that is almost classically Satanic. The sheer number and diversity of bands involved in the black metal scene today is breathtaking: “black metal” is defined not so much by a musical style as by a lyrical fixation with the Satanic (though not necessarily Satanism itself), evoking dark passions and gothic moods. Within these boundaries, black metal is arguably the most vital and creative force in contemporary music. Black metal musicians plunder almost every aspect of the Western musical canon, from folk and techno to orchestral and jazz influences. They are also becoming increasingly literate and well-informed. Whereas, three decades before, Black Sabbath were inspired by a Dennis Wheatly novel, the new generation of demonic rockers are exploring writers like Dante and Milton, with Norwegian act Ulver releasing an album based upon Willian Blake’s Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Black Metal is the state-of-the-art pinnacle in extreme music and the most alternative, most underground form of demi-monde culture this side of hades! BLACK METAL, blackmetal, BM, Norwegian, Northern, true, elite, modern black, dark-metal, Greek, blackened death, gothic-metal, Pagan metal, vampiric, death-industrial, black-noise, dark-ambient/black-ambient, etcetera—these are the nomenclature that sets our music apart from the mediocrity of conventional culture and brings us all together in the most cutting-edge community!…Hail Satan! #RandolphHarris 10 of 12

If you get down to the magic of the Winchester Mystery House, you will discover the spirits come straight from the heart. One does not have to do it very often, but if your music is emotional and affects you, it is Satanic. It can be classical, death metal, whatever. It is a manner of how you write it and why you write it. People are becoming more aware. A lot of things are getting exposed and people are getting sick of the corruption. Certain people get a lot of balderdash. Death threats in person. People vandalize cars and gardens, and attack others. It is ridiculous. They call those who express their nature bad guys, but they are the ones who behave in a bad fashion. Rituals are quite important as they impress one’s mind—you know you are dealing with serious stuff—and that is how magic works. It comes from within: you release certain energies and draw certain energies; therefore it is important that people can control their own minds This takes a lot of effort to master. For examples, novices should not throw themselves into situations they cannot normally cope with, learn to cope with them first. A Satanist should suffer from no paranoias and master their fears. The Decadent movement of Mrs. Winchester’s time is why the nineteenth century was known as the Satanic century, and the concept of Decadent lifestyle is quite appealing. I am a great fan of Decadent writers, such as Edgar Allan Poe, and enjoy stories about the macabre and unknown in general, like the work of H.P. Lovecraft. I agree with a lot of Nietzsche’s philosophy on the will to power, morals, and the superman. I read the Marquis de Sade, who I find fascinating—Gilles de Rais was also a very interesting character. Satanism is a way of living. It is a philosophy and a magical path. I think to be a Satanist you have to have a dark, sinister side to you—you have to be born that way. You must be an extreme person, a strong-willed person—emotional but not controlled by your emotions. #RandolphHarris 11 of 12

You have to understand the darker aspects of human psychology and behaviour. You must be your own master, be responsible for your own actions. A Satanist is an individual. A Satanists is usually also a misanthrope. One appreciates that most people are weak and foolish and follow the crowd, like sheep. Satanism is quite masculine. It required logical, cold thinking. Most white magicians are too scared to step into the dark side because they know they cannot handle it. If they cannot handle “demons,” how can they call themselves magicians? It is pathetic. The real demon is their own fear. Another characteristic of demonomania is the complete change of moral character and spiritual disposition of the victim when the new personality is in control. This transformation is due to the nature of the inhabiting demon who completely controls one’s victim during the demonized state (the attack), and thus manifests one’s own character. Just like human beings, demons have different intellectual, moral, and spiritual traits. These traits will manifest themselves accordingly through the possessed person. Some demons are refined, educated, cultured, and ever appear to be “good” and benevolent, parading as elect unfallen angels, even as the Holy Spirit himself. Others are unrefined, uneducated, coarse, vile, and morally filthy. Demons are not always viciously immoral and unclean. However, all spirits who are not of God always display their essential God-defying and Christ-resisting trait. They always abhor the triune God and the Christian faith. If you ever hear ghostly music wafting from the dark mansion, the bell in the belfry high in the gables tolling, maybe the Winchester Mystery House is summoning you. #RandolphHarris 12 of 12