Are some of us magnets for the paranormal? Are some of us magnets for satanic forces? Do some of us have attachments, dark spirits, that come and go from our lives, depending upon how centered we are with God, at any point in our lives? Is it that some of us, at some point in our lives invite dark spirits into our life, intentionally or unintentionally, and once present, we cannot shed them? Sometimes we are curious about dark things and they attach to us, staying with us, steering us towards darkness, in our actions and deeds and we go further into darkness, not knowing we have forces guiding us. I propose to you, that for decades, when I said, “Be as evil as you can be” and people thought I was joking, it was a darkness upon my soul, that had attached itself to me as a child, a darkness that drove my violent, sociopathic, psychopathic behavior, that caused my parents to have me tested as a child.
The Iceman, Richard Kuklinski, a true psychopath, is indicative of one half of one percent of the world’s population, in the personality type that he is. Half of the people with his personality disorder become serial killers, the other half go into law enforcement and then sales. I excelled in both law enforcement and sales and as a child I tested with the same disorder as the Iceman. I grew up running the streets, involved in gang behavior, stealing cars, extorting businesses, offering them insurance and subscribing to the motto, “Be as evil as you can be”. But I adopted that motto after a night playing Ouija with a kid from Louisiana, his Hells Angel Uncle and voodoo assisted Grandmother. It was a night of vodka, pills and shadow figures rising out of nothing, of strange things and odd memories for the kid from East LA. I went from street thug to violent street thug and fearless, violent thug, who had no problem exhibiting violent, thuggish behavior, cutting people, striking them with chains or worse. Growing older, it only got worse, for me, the Godfather was a training film. The shadow figures were always present, always at the corner of my eye, always present in my room, in the darkened streets and alley ways…why?
My Catholic parents moved from California to rural Washington to get me away from the gun running, the violence, the network of criminals I had. They thought they were saving me. I went from being a fish in the pond to be the big fish in the pond. I was the only criminal minded person in a rural high school. Somehow, I’d find myself swinging a machete in town, in street fights, on a Friday night, with my buddies, scaring the hell out of everyone else. These people did not know what hit them, they were not prepared for this level of violence. My friends were glad to be my friends and attributed my actions to my being from California, they could not hear the voice on my shoulder driving me forward. I could. The ever-present shadow figures whisper. The question remains, was it the personality disorder or an attachment from that night with the voodoo lady and the spirit board? My behavior escalated ten-fold after that night. I shall always wonder.
Living in the Peoples Republic of Washington as a teenager brought me face to face with myself. Drugs, alcohol, cruising, fighting, knives, chains, machetes, and more…nothing was off limits, nothing was out of bounds there was no limit to the excess to which I would delve, visiting the Ouija Board again, playing the punch bowel game (where my knucklehead friends and I would dump our parents pills into a punch bowel, mix them around and take a handful and wash them down with a swig of vodka)…this behavior led us to the Ouija Board, which was never enough, so, while listening to Nativity in Black we would seek out ZoZo and others. Why? Because when you are sixteen, seventeen, pumped full of cheap alcohol and pills, you are invincible…which led me to purchase a book by Abdul Alhazred, written in the sixth century AD, The Necronomicon. This book, a piece of writing so evil that I had to keep it in check by holding it on the book case between two blessed Bibles, surrounded by salt, scared my buddies, who would not open the doors, the gates with me, for the things we unlocked were so frightening that after the first gate, they abandoned me in my endeavors and declared me insane. I didn’t feel the same way until I got to the fifth gate. It was when I opened that doorway that I saw something so frightening that I didn’t think I could close the door, put the entity back and frightened me so badly that I was scared for life. I put the Necromicon back between the Bibles and hauled it with me wherever I moved for over twenty years, afraid to dispose of it improperly, not wanting it to fall into the wrong hands, into the hands of someone who would open all seven gates of hell and not seal them shut, unlocking a portal that would lead to never ending evil. So, wherever I moved it moved with me, sealed in salt, held in check between two blessed Bibles, to keep the evil inside of it held in check, until I could find a home for it, where it could be disposed of safely.
College: More drugs and alcohol. But I can run with the big dogs. I got my degrees in English and Psychology, with a minor in Education and Alcohol Studies. Upon leaving college I went to work driving truck for a period, then entered the world of Law Enforcement and Corrections. What is an Irish kid who likes to fight going to do? He’s going to make a ton of money getting paid to beat up bad guys, because when I did my student teaching, I discovered that public schools really don’t like you disciplining kids who need it. Who knew? Working in some of the oldest, darkest, prisons around, places that used to be old mental hospitals, I saw things that scared me and my co-workers. In the tunnels, the rooms under the prisons, the no longer used cell houses, seeing and hearing shadow figures was common, as was being touched, scratched and when leading a prisoner to the hole we would sometimes be punched, in the steam tunnels under the old mental hospital of Eastern State Hospital, we would be touched. Creepy was a mainstay.
Career: Be it standing on Big Red (the gallows) or holding Mini 14, AR-15, Remington 870 or less than lethal weapon, the power was immeasurable. I’d always been a heartbreaker but was now a lifetaker too. The spirits could feel it and pushed back, putting their mark upon me every chance they got. Disturbance in E3, carrying the shotguns through the steam tunnels from the armory, to the elevators to come up in either end of a 120-man dormitory, to retake this old mental health facility, scratches appeared on my arm, under my coat, in groups of three, to mock the Trinity. While performing a cell extraction on a Satanist, who had hexed us, covered himself in feces and commanded us not to touch him lest we face the wrath of the devil, I pepper sprayed the shit covered minion of hell, laughed demonically myself at his misfortune and once the cell door was opened, sprayed him again, while my partner hit him with the stun shield. Despite his never putting shit covered mitts on me, I somehow got three scratches under my coat, once again mocking the Trinity. I’ll take the scratches…beats being a shit covered, pepper sprayed, demon minion. I’d like to say that these happened to be my only experiences with this type of thing working in that environment, but they weren’t. I ran into way more of Satan’s minions with Ouija Boards, practicing the dark arts, and shadow people lurking in the steam tunnels, hiding by the gallows or in burned out cells during riots, than I ever cared to. Evil people doing evil things, bring about evil entities. I also tend to be a magnet for evil people, like the Gypsy woman who shapeshifted into Medusa, but that is for another time.
More to come…(including hangings, mercenary work, waterboarding and contact with the Angel of Death)
Bill Turner, Pastor – Leader, The
Apparition Mission