The wisteria had grown enormously. Its trunks were not wooden and now quite thick. And the great stretch of lawn was plush and emerald green, the old boxwood hedges were growing tall. I loved it. I loved the old trellis in the back, leaning under the burden of tangled vines. And that is where the shadow always stood. The figure appeared frozen, wide-eyed, violently alert, and focused on my home. The emptiness was terrifying. This darkness troubled me. The silence was so deep. I was so alone in this dark abyss. My heart was knocking against my ribs threatening to break inside of me. A hand reached out, no more than a streak of white in the shadows. I opened my eyes and closed them. Only to find myself gazing into the darkness that extended to infinity in all directions, yet it was confining as a prison. I had long kept my spiritual hungers and physical hungers completely separated. I had been buried alive by demonic energy in my own mansion, yet I was free to move around as I pleased. It is ominous. Its very perfection is unnatural, the silence not of deserted places, but of an ancient, hidden evil. Nothing could efface the shame and guilt I felt for having burdened my soul with these mysterious problems that were just about more than I could handle. The antiques, the art, numerous collections, china, stained glass windows, sliver, solid gold dinner service, were tempting to larcenous souls. But the various shades of darkness frightened away humanity. These phantoms were not in my imagination. #RandolphHarris 1 of 7
In the morning when I awoke, I could not stay alone in this house. William had left his warm imprint on everything. I could hear the timbre of his voice, his laughter, see his enormous blue eyes looking at me lovingly, and feel his hands upon my shoulders. I could hear the cry of our daughter, and smell the sweet scent of lilac on her skin, but they were long gone. I was not dreaming. I could find no explanation for what I felt. A delicious thrill passed through my body. Something moved in the corner of my eye. I did not turn to stare at it. I could not move at all, but was unable to suppress my cry of horror. It sounded loud and terrible in this empty house. The immense panes of glass rattled. My stomach muscles were fluttering and skin clammy with cold sweat. I felt dizzy. It seemed as if I was actually two beings—one, the main part of me, was concealed somewhere deep within; the other, my physical body, was external and less significant. I was being drawn somewhere by an irresistible force. Very slowly I turned my head and looked behind. I could see my physical body lying there on the floor in the dark parlor. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a throng of hideous beings, evil spirits who looked at me with iron-cold fury. My shattered spirit was beseeched with sadness. This was some form of illusion I thought. But their dark eyes looked at me with suspicion. Furious at my defenselessness against these demons, I drifted down into a profound slumber. What must have been several hours later, as I sat down at the dinner table, I saw, sitting opposite of me, an exact replica of myself. #RandolphHarris 2 of 7
This astonishing doppelganger repeated every move I made during the course of the meal. I reached out to touch the double and the image reached out to touch me. I could actually it touching me. This spectral woman then got up and moved against the lace curtains. Unprepared and quite enthralled, I was quite enchanted by her face. Her glittering eyes had an uncommon depth. They were almost as haunting as mine with a childlike vulnerability, a winsomeness. She was wearing a sapphire-blue silk dress and a pair of supple elbow-length gloves. The sweet scent of fine perfume came wafting ethereally toward me. It was one of my favorite scents. She was quite a vision. Her hair black was brought up and back from her forehead to descend in deep waves on either side of her temples before being swept to the wreath of braids behind her head. These brains were exquisitely threaded with pearls, and diamonds dangled from the pendants in the lobes of hear ears. She was an ornament that only a goddess possess. Then that gorgeous aura went transparent and dissipated. I was scared. I went into the crystal bedroom, locked the door behind me, locked the door of the closet, and closed the door of the bathroom. After fluffing the pillows on my bed, I placed a revolver under than. A ghost, I thought. I lay there snuggling into the warm pillows, in my dimly lit bedroom, I pulled the quilt over my head until I fell into an exhausted sleep. Many often wondered how I could have changed so little over the years? How could I be there one moment and gone the next? #RandolphHarris 3 of 7
As I have said, my home is a center for a lot of ghostly phenomena, such as doors opening and closing, the footsteps of unseen guests, and the manifestation of spectral beings. When the first light came in the morning, on the eastern horizon, tendrils of gold would creep across the gray Heavens. The rattle of wagons could be heard for a great distance in the early morning air. One morning, I got an odd story from a carpenter, who assured me he did not believe in ghosts. The carpenter, Jones, explained that he had been outside on the porch, cutting interior trim. Jones said that he approached the door and started adjusting the load. Suddenly, the door swung open on its own. Jones stepped into the kitchen and turned to close the door, but instead, the door closed on it own. Jones had such a stimulating and delightful day, and he felt he could work through the night. About seven o’clock, he was working in the basement when he glimpsed something white on the table in front of him. Upon closer examination, the object proved to be a large, extremely pale hand with dark blue veins across its back. Putting his saw and wood down, Jones turned around and was surprised to see a tall, solidly built man, who seemed to be studying his tools. The man seemed completely unaware of his presence. Jones never imagined than man to be anything than another carpenter, but he thought it was most peculiar that he had not met this carpenter before. How had the man entered the basement and be working at the same table so silently? It was not until then man vanished before his eyes that Jones realized he had been visited by a ghost. #RandolphHarris 4 of 7
There was more to it than that. Jones still had to tend to the mules, and fill the water kegs, so they could take them to other workers who were miles away on the estate. He walked over to the stables where he met with Hicks. “They’re stubborn varmints,” said Jones, “but they’re smart enough not to drink until they’ve cooled off enough not to founder. A damn shame horses don’t have that kind of smarts.” “Yeah,” Hicks replied. “You’d better tie that jug-head of mine to a wagon bow, or he’ll slide into a ditch. By the time we get the teams unharnessed, they should be ready to drink.” Swiftly they unharnessed the mules, and by the time the animals had drunk their fill, Hick’s horse had rested enough to drink safely. “Now”, said Jones, “Let’s hitch up the mules, back this wagon as near the water as we can, and fill those water kegs.” They were soon sweating, wrestling the filled kegs into the wagon. Finally, there were only the empty kegs mounted on either side of the wagon box. “Some of the best water I ever tasted come out of Mrs. Winchester’s well,” said Hicks. Despite it being late September, the sun was hot, and they were forced to rest. “I believe we’ll meet our outfit before sundown,” said Jones. “Maybe,” said Hicks, “but if we don’t, we’ll have to keep goin’ until we do, because they’ll be hurtin’ for water. Slowly the sun slipped toward the western horizon, and when it was but an echo of dusty rose, Jones and Hicks stopped to rest the teams. Quickly the Earth cooled, as a breeze crept in from the northwest, caressing their sweaty faces. #RandolphHarris 5 of 7
They listened, for the wind could also bring the welcome rattle of approaching wagons. However, they heard nothing. Wearily they resumed their journey, as the first twinkling stars became distant point of silver in the purple vastness of the Heavens. Down came a shower of black dust, as if the sky had commenced raining gunpowder! The atmosphere was as hot as the inside of an oven. The wagons rumbled to a halt. The sweating mules stood there in their harness, too scared to move. Their sweating hides trembled. Hicks got down from the wagon, and seized his Winchester, when something unnatural seeming—holds him in spot. It was then the strange apparition was most closely scrutinized; Jones was shivering in his stirrups—through sheer terror, incapable even of though! And after gazing a moment with wildered eyes—wondering what abnormal monster thus mocks his intelligence. “Great God! What could it be?” Shouted Hicks. There was but little time to philosophize—not enough to complete a careful scrutiny of the unearthly apparition, which both men present, with hand spread over his eyes to shade them from the dazzling glare, was endeavoring to make. “Is it a phantom? Surely it cannot be human?” said Jones. Wheeling suddenly round—his horse at the same time sending forth a scream that caused the Earth to tremble—the monk galloped away. They could only see it was a black monk and a spectral horseman that startled them. Nobody said anything, but strong on their minds was the possibility that their companions had met with foul play and lay dead on the barren portion of the estate. There was no conversation, for as long as they did not speak their fears aloud, there was always hope that they would not become cold, hard reality. #RandolphHarris 6 of 7
Spirits of the Winchester, I awaken the powers of darkness which dwell within you by the power of the three headed Dragon Zohak that you may serve to empower the great work of this estate. Through serving the greater cause of dark magick which break the shackles that bind the Blacked spirit, may you be uplifted and liberated! Awaken and empower the forbidden rites of Angra Mainyu! Awaken to empower the great work of counter creation as an Apostle of the Lord of Darkness enteral and as a warrior of the Path of the Underworld. I command and I adjure thee, Emperor Lucifer, as the representative of the mighty living God, and by the power of Emanuel, his holy Son, who is thy master and mine, and by the virtue of His precious blood, which He sehd to redeem mankind from thy chains, I command thee to quite thine abode, wheresoever it may be, swearing that I will give thee one quarter of an hour alone, if thou dost not straightway come hither and communicate with me in an audible and intelligible voice, or, if thy personal presence be impossible, please dispatch me thy Messenger Astarot in a human form by ADONAY, ELOIM, ARIEL, JEHOVAM, TAGLA, MATHON, ALMOUZIN, ARIOS, PITHONA, MAGOTS, SYLPHAE, TABOTS, SALAMANDRAE, GNOMUS, TERRE, COELIS, GODENS, AQUA. Your power now flows through this Nexion of Infernal Power, the very gateway to counter creation! Infernal power Incarnate! Awaken all creation to reveal that which is unknown so that this age of enslavement shall come to an end! I stir the power of the Divs within to unlock the doors, empower this work, and manifest glory of unlimited possibility! #RandolphHarris 7 of 7
This is a World in which ghosts and goblins exist. Many men and women who were granted the blessing of seeing the ghostly image of their loved ones pass to the “other side,” or who received messages of comfort from recently deceased individuals, have often told us that those souls were met by angelic beings or more advanced spirits who assisted them in evolving to higher planes of awareness. As these souls progressed, all of their ties to their prior physical existence faded into irrelevance. Some memories of their previous material life were forgotten.
However, on occasion, it seems that something goes wrong on a soul’s evolution into the light. Spirits of the dead can take over the minds and bodies of people who are emotionally or physically weak, there also appear to be discarnate entities that have never been human but who strongly desire to occupy a body of a man or woman. Nonhuman entities want to feel the emotion and sensual expressions that are unique to human experience. These beings very often identify themselves as agents of evil. Traditionally, they have been called demons, and they have the ability to seize the controlling mechanism of a host body, undermine the victim’s will, and direct the enslaved human. https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/
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Randolph Harris II International 