"The cruise company had prepared a special treat for that evening. As dusk settled over the Nile, the Gants and the other guests were escorted by uniformed guides down the long Avenue of the Sphinxes that connects Karnak and the temple of the old gods. There they were, those gods, scores of them: ram-headed, floodlit, and magnificent, crouching stark against a background of palms and a sky the color of cobalt. Costumed light bearers had been stationed at intervals, each holding aloft a flambeau. It was kitsch but it was breathtaking. It was calculated to set the mood for the remainder of the evening.
Aperitifs were served in the colonnaded temple. Thereupon the guests entered the magnificent open-air dining area and were seated at tables laid with white and gold linen. Candlelight bathed the scene, and the floodlit, ancient columns formed a stunning backdrop on three sides. The air was laden with rich spices and the aromas of the East. Waiters in traditional costume glided from one table to another, serving a four-course dinner as music emanated from a classical quartet.
'This is the life, eh?' someone said. 'Sure beats an all-you-can-eat shrimp supper down at Al's Seafood Diner.' His friends chuckled. The food was excellent, the company convivial. The wines, too, were fine and copious.
Halfway through the meal, however, just as the musicians had ended one piece and were about to embark on another, the tranquil atmosphere of the evening was shattered. A terrifying scream rent the air, sending a chill through the assembled diners.
'It was like a wounded animal, not human at all,' Malachi recalls, 'and it frightened the life out of everybody, because everybody stopped eating at once. You could've heard a pin drop, as they say.' All eyes were fixed on a solitary man at one of the tables. He seemed oblivious to what he had just done and sat staring into the middle distance, at something it appeared only he could see. Moments later he got to his feet, letting the chair fall back with a clatter. Malachi recognized him; he had spoken with him earlier - the usual friendly chitchat. His name was Walter Ehrlich and he seemed an amiable sort. He had been to Egypt on a previous occasion, he said, many years before. His wife had been with him then but she had died in 1978. This year he had come alone.
Perhaps that brief conversation had endeared Malachi to Ehrlich, because he now appeared to single him out. Slowly but deliberately, he approached the Gants' table, a glass of wine in his hand. The other guests could only stare; some were frightened, others uneasy. Their hosts seemed unsure of what to do.
'Where did you say you were from?' Ehrlich asked, fixing Malachi with a look of mild aggression.
'Ireland.'
'Catholic, right?' He emptied his wine glass and replenished it at once from a decanter. In a loud voice he said: 'All you Irish are Catholics, that right?'
Somebody tut-tutted. Mr Ehrlich was introducing a very sour note into what should have been a perfect evening.
He pointed directly at Malachi and lowered his face to meet the Irishman's eyes. For a fleeting moment, Malachi could not believe what he was seeing. Even now, years later, his voice quavers as he recalls the incident.
'God Almighty, I'll never forget that face,' he says. 'Blenny saw it too and she was very upset.'
The face before him was no longer that of Walter Ehrlich. The features had transmogrified into something thoroughly freakish, a mask of utter malevolence. The lips were pulled back in a terrible grimace. And the eyes - they were no longer the eyes of a human but hooded, like those of a cold-blooded creature predating mankind.
'Let's go, Malachi,' Blenny urged.
He felt her hand on his wrist. She was trembling. But he was already recoiling from that awful face. He felt that he could not get far enough away from it.
Walter Ehrlich was not through with him just yet, though. As quickly as the dreadful, reptilian aspect had taken hold of his features, so did it seem to leave. The face returned to normal. Walter straightened and stepped back from the table.
'F*** you!' he roared. He looked fiercely about him, and Malachi will never forget the shocked expressions of the other diners. 'F*** you all! We f*** you all, and to hell with the lot of you. There's no God here. Your God is dead!'
To everyone's astonishment, the troubled guest emitted a loud squeal, ran in the direction of the pillars to one side of the temple, and vanished into the darkness beyond. All present - dinner guests, organizers, waiters, musicians - were appalled.
'Alcohol,' muttered the Egyptian maitre d', shaking his head, his Islamic sensibilities repelled by the display. 'To drink so much, not good.'
'I don't think so,' said a white-haired man, turning to Malachi. 'No, I don't think it's alcohol. There are demons at work there.'
'You're joking,' said Malachi.
'No joke'....When a man starts using that kind of language - and referring to himself in the plural - it's pretty clear that there are demons at work.'" (The Dark Sacrament: True Stories of Modern-Day Demon Possession and Exorcism, pp. 198-200).
Aperitifs were served in the colonnaded temple. Thereupon the guests entered the magnificent open-air dining area and were seated at tables laid with white and gold linen. Candlelight bathed the scene, and the floodlit, ancient columns formed a stunning backdrop on three sides. The air was laden with rich spices and the aromas of the East. Waiters in traditional costume glided from one table to another, serving a four-course dinner as music emanated from a classical quartet.
'This is the life, eh?' someone said. 'Sure beats an all-you-can-eat shrimp supper down at Al's Seafood Diner.' His friends chuckled. The food was excellent, the company convivial. The wines, too, were fine and copious.
Halfway through the meal, however, just as the musicians had ended one piece and were about to embark on another, the tranquil atmosphere of the evening was shattered. A terrifying scream rent the air, sending a chill through the assembled diners.
'It was like a wounded animal, not human at all,' Malachi recalls, 'and it frightened the life out of everybody, because everybody stopped eating at once. You could've heard a pin drop, as they say.' All eyes were fixed on a solitary man at one of the tables. He seemed oblivious to what he had just done and sat staring into the middle distance, at something it appeared only he could see. Moments later he got to his feet, letting the chair fall back with a clatter. Malachi recognized him; he had spoken with him earlier - the usual friendly chitchat. His name was Walter Ehrlich and he seemed an amiable sort. He had been to Egypt on a previous occasion, he said, many years before. His wife had been with him then but she had died in 1978. This year he had come alone.
Perhaps that brief conversation had endeared Malachi to Ehrlich, because he now appeared to single him out. Slowly but deliberately, he approached the Gants' table, a glass of wine in his hand. The other guests could only stare; some were frightened, others uneasy. Their hosts seemed unsure of what to do.
'Where did you say you were from?' Ehrlich asked, fixing Malachi with a look of mild aggression.
'Ireland.'
'Catholic, right?' He emptied his wine glass and replenished it at once from a decanter. In a loud voice he said: 'All you Irish are Catholics, that right?'
Somebody tut-tutted. Mr Ehrlich was introducing a very sour note into what should have been a perfect evening.
He pointed directly at Malachi and lowered his face to meet the Irishman's eyes. For a fleeting moment, Malachi could not believe what he was seeing. Even now, years later, his voice quavers as he recalls the incident.
'God Almighty, I'll never forget that face,' he says. 'Blenny saw it too and she was very upset.'
The face before him was no longer that of Walter Ehrlich. The features had transmogrified into something thoroughly freakish, a mask of utter malevolence. The lips were pulled back in a terrible grimace. And the eyes - they were no longer the eyes of a human but hooded, like those of a cold-blooded creature predating mankind.
'Let's go, Malachi,' Blenny urged.
He felt her hand on his wrist. She was trembling. But he was already recoiling from that awful face. He felt that he could not get far enough away from it.
Walter Ehrlich was not through with him just yet, though. As quickly as the dreadful, reptilian aspect had taken hold of his features, so did it seem to leave. The face returned to normal. Walter straightened and stepped back from the table.
'F*** you!' he roared. He looked fiercely about him, and Malachi will never forget the shocked expressions of the other diners. 'F*** you all! We f*** you all, and to hell with the lot of you. There's no God here. Your God is dead!'
To everyone's astonishment, the troubled guest emitted a loud squeal, ran in the direction of the pillars to one side of the temple, and vanished into the darkness beyond. All present - dinner guests, organizers, waiters, musicians - were appalled.
'Alcohol,' muttered the Egyptian maitre d', shaking his head, his Islamic sensibilities repelled by the display. 'To drink so much, not good.'
'I don't think so,' said a white-haired man, turning to Malachi. 'No, I don't think it's alcohol. There are demons at work there.'
'You're joking,' said Malachi.
'No joke'....When a man starts using that kind of language - and referring to himself in the plural - it's pretty clear that there are demons at work.'" (The Dark Sacrament: True Stories of Modern-Day Demon Possession and Exorcism, pp. 198-200).
Even in the Vatican according to Fr. Amroth:
ReplyDeleteSpanish exorcist addresses claims of Satanic influence in Vatican
Rome, Italy, Mar 3, 2010 / (CNA).- A renowned exorcist in Rome recently released a book of memoirs in which he declares to know of the existence of Satanic sects in the Vatican where participation reaches all the way to the College of Cardinals. A second demonologist, also residing in Rome, entered the debate this week, clarifying the origins of the information and defending the Vatican's clergy as an "edifying and virtuous" collection of prelates.
In a book of memoirs released in February, the noted Italian exorcist Fr. Gabriele Amorth affirmed that "Yes, also in the Vatican there are members of Satanic sects." When asked if members of the clergy are involved or if this is within the lay community, he responded, "There are priests, monsignors and also cardinals!"
The book, "Father Amorth. Memoirs of an Exorcist. My life fighting against Satan." was written by Marco Tosatti, who compiled it from interviews with the priest.
Fr. Amorth was asked by Tosatti how he knows Vatican clergy are involved. He answered, "I know from those who have been able to relate it to me because they had a way of knowing directly. And it's something 'confessed' most times by the very demon under obedience during the exorcisms."
The famous Italian exorcist was also asked if the Pope was aware of Satanic sects in the Vatican, to which Fr. Amorth replied, "Of course, he was informed. But he does what he can. It's a horrifying thing."
Benedict XVI, being German, comes from a place "decidedly averse to these things," argued Fr. Amorth, saying that in Germany "there practically aren't any exorcists." However, he clarified, "the Pope believes (in them)."
The Italian priest also warned of the existence of bishops and priests who do not believe in Satan in the interview. "And yet, in the Gospel, Jesus speaks extensively about it, so it should be said, either they've never read the Gospel or they just don't believe it!"
And is this evidence of satanic influence in the Vatican?
ReplyDeleteUsher at Vatican suspected of running homosexual prostitution ring
Catholic World News
March 04, 2010
An Italian man who serves as an usher at the Vatican, already facing criminal charges for graft, now may face additional charges that he directed a homosexual prostitution ring. Angelo Balducci, a former director of Rome's public-works department, was originally arrested on corruption charges. But police now reportedly have evidence that he arranged "escort" services for young men, including some seminarians in Rome. He allegedly used his connections as a "Gentleman of His Holiness"-- a member of the group that provides ushers for papal ceremonies.
Wherever there is confusion, you can bet that the demonic is near. Worcester has been plagued over the years by dissent, sexual abuse of minors, homosexuality, occultism and a variety of other evils. I really believe we will witness much more demonic possession in the future as society crumbles.
ReplyDelete