The Gatekeeper

Part III Love Child Chapter 22

22

IN RUTH’S CASE, INTEGRATION was not just a goal for therapy, it was an absolute necessity for survival. As she continued her tale of woe I could see distinct changes taking place. 

Her posture became more upright and forward in the chair. Her voice began to deepen. Her formerly squinting eyes turned round and wide open, her manner more aggressive with thrusting arm gestures accenting choice vulgar invectives. 

One of her dark demonic alters was emerging. This was sensed by my psychically-attuned companion well before I was aware of it. 

Feeling frightened and threatened by the menacing presence which seemed to be probing Lauren's mind, she ran out of the room and in a panic tripped and fell down the stairs in an attempt to escape from some hellish harms way. 

One of the group leaders ran to assist Lauren while the other stayed to deal with the destructive alter that had emerged. Now, hardly human, an unholy look glared from her penetrating eyes and strongly-positioned lips. It would take an exorcism to subdue this demon.

LAUREN WAS REELING FROM the physical effects of falling down the stairs. Hearing stories of satanic abuse triggered a flashback of a possibly similar period and kind of torture in Lauren's past. 

As one therapist worked to extinguish Lauren's flashback, the other began to assail Ruth’s demonic alter with words of righteous indignation. 

"Be gone you spawn of the devil," Dr. Peterson expounded holding a crucifix over the head of the seething alter while dousing the entity with holy water. "You can not remain in plain view of the image of God's Son, Jesus Christ crucified," she fearlessly challenged, her actions and acting worthy of a scene in The Exorcist.

The demonic presence imparted extraordinary strength to the vexed vixen. Several staff members struggled to restrain her. The secular therapist actually used traditional Christian words to rebuke the evil alter. God's name and the name of God's Son, Jesus Christ, were invoked to powerfully diffuse the demon's venting. 

I HURRIED LAUREN HOME after the crisis was over. Visibly shaken, she shuddered to imagine that the kind of sacrilegious torture she was just heard about might have happened to her. She tried to remember, but the lines of internal communication leading to that bottomless psychological pit were blocked. 

"I have to know if I was actually subjected to satanic ritual abuse. Where did that flashback come from if such things didn't really happen to me? Erik . . . not my family, please God, not my family." 

Tears flowed after those last few desperate words left her mouth.

"We have to be sure of this. You need a professional opinion to resolve such a horrible possibility," I cautioned and advised. 

Yes, the things Lauren knew her uncle did to her were reprehensible, yet still somehow forgivable. If he was part of a satanic cult and subjected her to even more heinous levels of abuse, then she would have to cut herself off from her family forever, without any hope of the repentant reconciliation she’d always prayed for. It would also explain why she was so seriously ill. 

IMMEDIATE PLANS WERE made to have Dr. Peterson sort out that plaguing question. Body broken, mind still shattered from the previous night's drama of horrors, Lauren boldly prepared to meet her darkest fear head on. 

This time I was not asked to accompany Lauren to her therapy session. I reluctantly agreed to stay behind as Lauren drove off in her battered Grand Am, a reflection of the broken person behind the wheel.