Lunatics Radio Hour
Lunatics Library 35: Exorcism Horror Stories
This week Abby and Alan present horror stories about exorcisms.
lunaticsproject.com
Get Lunatics Merch here. Join the discussion on Discord. Listen to the paranormal playlist I curate for Vurbl, updated weekly! Check out Abby's book Horror Stories. Available in eBook and paperback. Music by Michaela Papa, Alan Kudan & Jordan Moser. Poster Art by Pilar Keprta @pilar.kep.
Support the talent featured in this episode! Read Brittany's book here, and follow her on Instagram at noctiscriptor. Listen to Adam and Mike’s band Beach Therapy here. And watch Long Beach Island here. You can purchase JR’s book, We Living Failures on Amazon. Pre-order his next project here. Follow Lissa @lissasweeney on Instagram. Support Michael Crosa and check out Chattanooga Podcast Studios here.
What's it like to be a Cattle Rancher? FBI Special Agent? Professional Santa? Find out!
Listen on: Apple Podcasts Spotify
This week Abby and Alan present horror stories about exorcisms.
lunaticsproject.com
Get Lunatics Merch here. Join the discussion on Discord. Listen to the paranormal playlist I curate for Vurbl, updated weekly! Check out Abby's book Horror Stories. Available in eBook and paperback. Music by Michaela Papa, Alan Kudan & Jordan Moser. Poster Art by Pilar Keprta @pilar.kep.
Support the talent featured in this episode! Read Brittany's book here, and follow her on Instagram at noctiscriptor. Listen to Adam and Mike’s band Beach Therapy here. And watch Long Beach Island here. You can purchase JR’s book, We Living Failures on Amazon. Pre-order his next project here. Follow Lissa @lissasweeney on Instagram. Support Michael Crosa and check out Chattanooga Podcast Studios here.
What's it like to be a Cattle Rancher? FBI Special Agent? Professional Santa? Find out!
Listen on: Apple Podcasts Spotify
Hello everybody, welcome to another episode of the Lunatics Radio Hour podcast. I'm Abby Branker sitting here with Alan Kudin.
Speaker 2:Hello.
Speaker 1:And today we have Exorcism Stories to discuss with you.
Speaker 2:So to be clear, this is not Exorcism. The film fan fiction.
Speaker 1:Correct, correct. It's a broad net Any Exorcism story will do and we have some very different takes on Exorcism to talk through today.
Speaker 2:Oh, yeah, like what.
Speaker 1:We have a very modern version, we have a Middle Eastern folklore tale, and then we have something that is hard to define and we will get to it when we get to it.
Speaker 2:Interesting. I'm intrigued. Good, I like it when you're intrigued.
Speaker 1:So I don't want to give too much away.
Speaker 2:You've given very little.
Speaker 1:But I'm very excited about the first story. It is a very, very good, very well written, scary story which I live for. So I think I want to start there because it feels like it handles Exorcisms in a very classic horror way, but with a few twists.
Speaker 2:Is there any preface? You want to go or is this? You just wanted to jump in?
Speaker 1:Let's just jump in. Let's let the story speak for itself.
Speaker 2:It literally will speak for itself as soon as we hit play.
Speaker 1:Well, somebody else will speak it to us, but yes, well, yeah, the story isn't reading itself, it's recorded. It's recorded. Yeah, all right, let's hit play.
Speaker 3:The Teller Exorcist, written by Brittany Johnson, read by Adam McElwany.
Speaker 4:Sadie Jones sat at the foot of her bed, placed the laptop upon its stand and accepted the video chat request. It was 8.01 PM, saturday, may 14, 2022. Hello, ms Jones, are you ready to begin? The bespectacled man on the screen asked yes. Dr Copeland, do you accept the terms and conditions of this remote exorcism? Yes, I do. Good, allow Procertia to restrain you. Sadie gulped and nodded at Procertia in the corner. Procertia nodded back. Sadie positioned herself in the middle of the bed, propped her head against the lump of pillows behind her and spread her thin arms and legs out wide. Procertia fastened the cuffs securely around Sadie's wrists and ankles. Now, procertia, you are not to intervene under any circumstances. The demon that resides within Ms Jones is a powerful one. Do you accept these demands? Dr Copeland asked yes. Procertia's voice was slack, monotone. She returned herself to the corner, folding her arms across the waist of her pale pink sweater. Dr Copeland shifted his gaze to Sadie. Ms Jones, have you taken the correct dosage of the psychoactive drug I prescribed you? Yes, dr Copeland. Good, then we shall proceed.
Speaker 4:Sadie took a deep breath in and expelled in one shuddering blow Sweat due to her youthful hollow chest. She could feel her brain unwind, sagging as the drugs worked through her. It would allow her to open up in ways that would otherwise be extremely difficult. Dr Copeland had assured her that way they could expose the evil head on. Demon, come forth to me, show yourself once and for all and let us be done with it. A great force rung Sadie's bow, as if a knife had been stuck there, and was slowly twisting back and forth. She trembled eyes, glossy head pounding. Vomit climbed from her esophagus, but all that poured from her lips was bile. Yes, yes, come to me, demon, reveal yourself in the presence of the Lord, in his light. You cannot escape it. Let me see thy face, let me know thy name.
Speaker 4:Pain seared through Sadie, her mind heavy Same as her eyes. Reality began to split like twine. A swirling phantasmic vision came to her Dark apparition, scrambling all over the ceiling with their gnashing maws and soulless milky eyes. No, she cried, her voice so detached from her own body that she could not feel the sensation of her screams. They're coming for me, dr Copeland, they're c-. Her speech sputtered and the pain ripped through her again, contorting every muscle behind her sickly goose-pimpled flesh.
Speaker 4:Demon, I command you, under God, to release this woman from your grip. Free her from the shackles of your bondage. Be gone from her, be gone. Sadie burst into desperate, ear-shattering wails. She was fighting harder than Dr Copeland had expected. This woman was not as weak-willed as he first perceived.
Speaker 4:Proc-sh-a, dr Copeland said impatiently, sounding so distant to Sadie. Proc-sh-a moved at once to the laptop, blocking the doctor from view. Sadie's head wobbled, tears spilling down her cheeks as she tried to divine the meaning of the hushed whispers passing between the doctor and her caretaker. I need to give her more, more of the psychoactive. She's not opening up the way I require. Proc-sh-a said no more. Only getting to work at once, grabbing the tincture from the tribe at the bedside table, swirling it a few times with a stir stick and then bringing it over to Sadie, whose eyes opened wide at the sight of her. No, no, no more of that. It's hurting me. I-i can't, I can't think, I can't see straight. I-i'm hallucinating. Don't listen to her. Proc-sh-a, dr Copeland growled. That's the demon speaking, not Ms Jones. Give her the medicine.
Speaker 4:Proc-sh-a poured the tincture into the girl's mouth. Sadie choked and spat as much of it as she could. Up or? Dr Copeland yelled, blaring through the laptop speakers All of it? Proc-sh-a questioned yes, all of it and quickly Proc-sh-a, grabbed Sadie's jaw and forced the bitter liquid down her throat, slipping into a vast dark realm of delusions, her thoughts moving through molasses.
Speaker 4:Sadie's eyes rolled into her skull. Speech was unavailable. Through blurred eyes she appeared at the laptop screen where Dr Copeland was now changing. She could not hear exactly the words coming from him. Her ears felt swollen like she'd put shells from the beach over them. But she knew in her heart they were not of the Bible, no, not of any holy script known to man. They did not belong to the Lord above for the Lord below.
Speaker 4:Vow's speech oozed from his slowly darkening, cracked lips, hideous sounds in Gulf, sadie Jones, worming into her ears like parasites. There you are, come to me, my child, do not be afraid of the darkness. The black smudging on his lips now spread in splotches across his ragged cheeks, up to his forehead, down his neck, coating his entire body in shiny, urdescent darkness. A new layer of thick, brutal skin Retreating from his forehead was a set of identical bumps that expanded with each word he encant until finally due horns, black as night, burst forth, climbing upwards in a twisted fashion. His tongue split down the middle and his glasses fell off. And his eyes, oh God. His eyes swelled with a crimson fluid that could only have belonged to the depths of hell. Sadie tried to scream, but it struggled in her throat.
Speaker 4:The sedation had taken hold and every action slowed to a point of uselessness. God, please help me. She thought. This is wrong, this is all wrong. Oh no, my dear God cannot help you now. Dr Copeland replied as his forked tongue slipped out like a snake.
Speaker 4:Sadie's breath caught as she gazed into his bloody pools, and then Dr Copeland did something that could not be explained. He began to crawl from the laptop. It started with his right hand, which had become a sleek, long claw, easing through the screen and into Sadie's room. It grabbed around her calf and Sadie tried to jolt backwards, now barely able to control her bodily functions. This came Copeland's left clawed hand, attaching itself firmly to her opposite calf. From there he pulled himself forward into Sadie's room, departing from his world entirely. He was atop her now.
Speaker 4:Sadie wrenched her eyes shut. Keep your eyes open, my dear Sadie refused Open them. The demon bellowed. Sadie cannot resist the command. You, stupid, helpless fawn. You thought you were possessed. No, no, my dear, just a sad little girl with sad little thoughts. So gullible these young ones are now, aren't they? Patricia Copeland spun his head around to wink at his aid, who remained in the corner resigned. He spun back, grinning wide with a dominable triumph, as he caressed Sadie's cheek with one long claw. You have no idea what it feels like to be truly one with something like me, but you will.
Speaker 4:Dr Copeland reached his black claws into Sadie's mouth and began wrenching it past human bounds, forcing himself in horns first, like a sausage fitting through tubing, and he crawled through the girl, scaly black skin, slouching off his spindly body, tunneling further and further into her until his last two elongated, malformed hooves disappeared. Now he was everywhere, felt everything, knew everything, and the last bit of Seedy Jones receded away, away, away, where even God could not touch. Seedy's jaw snapped, shut her eyes, going cold as a snake. He had her now, and this was just the beginning. Patricia smiled at the girl and walked to the foot of the bed. Good to have you back in our world, doctor. She shut the laptop, closed.
Speaker 1:It's so good, isn't it?
Speaker 2:This was something else.
Speaker 1:Written really well Horror so horror in.
Speaker 2:You know, is a very visual format, right, it's really where it thrives. Sure, even the books that are supposed to be the scariest books of all time, they usually they fall flat. When you're writing a horror story and you're doing it in a short format, you really just got to cut to the cut to the chase and it all comes down to just like your word choice to really get the imagery, the idea of this entity going in through her mouth and its skin slouching off as it goes. That got me, that got me. Good, yeah, it was. It's a great story. Also, dr Copeland. I think I know a Dr Copeland and that's why.
Speaker 1:Struck a nerve eh.
Speaker 2:I guess, so he was the bad guy.
Speaker 1:He was the bad guy. It was a plot twist.
Speaker 2:What a plot twist Never trust an exorcist. I mean we should get that on a t-shirt.
Speaker 1:Especially an online exorcist.
Speaker 2:Yeah, I mean a Craigslist exorcist is just a bad, bad call. A great call, however, of using Adam for this one.
Speaker 1:Yeah.
Speaker 2:So I've been going through a lot of horror audiobooks recently. Just it's that time of year.
Speaker 1:It's a Christmas spirit.
Speaker 2:Yeah Well, it's a holdover from Halloween and books take a long time to read and I cued up a bunch and I'm just really enjoying them. But even the most amazing voice actors often struggle when you're trying to do like strong emotions, like yelling or panic or whatnot, because there's the limitation of recording a microphone. You can't just scream in a booth. You have to convey powerful emotions without a lot of volume, and that's something that's actually pretty hard to do. And Adam did a killer job Also. I love his demon voice Very nuanced, subtle, not overdone, but powerful.
Speaker 1:Well, you had requested the last time we had Adam on that you wanted to see more of his dark side, so I think we established that with this story.
Speaker 2:Now I'm just trying to think of what I want next for Adam.
Speaker 1:But we still have to get the Teen Wolf story for him.
Speaker 2:He has a Teen Wolf story.
Speaker 1:You in the last episode. You wanted a Teen Wolf story for Adam.
Speaker 2:Is it news to me?
Speaker 1:Well, so what do you see in Adam's future now?
Speaker 2:I think he'd do great in a Teen Wolf story.
Speaker 1:Perfect, great, I'll keep working on that, cool, cool. So I want to talk a little bit about Brittany because she, as you might expect, has a lot of other very good work that you should check out. So first of all, she has a Southern horror novel called Mississippi Blue, which is available on Amazon for Kindle and Paperback, and I'm going to read a little bit about it because it's it's really interesting and I am definitely going to be reading it. If anyone wants to book, club it with me. Set in the fictional town of Orson, mississippi, mississippi Blue follows the investigation of Mary Lee Hastings, the six year old daughter of upstanding citizen and preacher Mark Hastings, who disappears without a trace one hot summer night in June 1969. Detective Dubois and newly appointed Detective Caroline A Waterson answer the call. As the town's secrets start coming out, the decades of fear, hatred, racism and violence are revealed. All the while the thing an unspeakable beast, not of this world waits and watches.
Speaker 1:You can also follow Brittany on Instagram at Noctiscriptor. So N? O C T I S C R I P T? O? R, and of course I will link that below. But definitely follow Brittany because she has yet another book coming out at the end of the year, and so you'll want to be up to date when that one hits the shelves. And anyone who didn't last time should check out Adam's band, beach Therapy, which we will link in the description below, and we also have the other half of Beach Therapy, who's also on this episode as well, so check out Beach Therapy. Anywhere you listen to music definitely on Spotify and Adam and Mike also have a film called LBI that's out. I will link all of their things in the description, so please check it out. They're very, very talented and we love to support the people who lend their talents for this show.
Speaker 1:Heck yeah, heck, yeah. So, alan, I'm going to ask you to think back to the last stories episode and I know that might be kind of difficult for you because you just forgot a whole segment about Adam, but I'm going to hope that you remember when you requested more international folklore.
Speaker 2:I make that request daily, so you remember. Oh yeah, absolutely Crystal clear. So let's roll the tape.
Speaker 3:The Mephrevens cast out a gym. Written by JR Santos. Written by Alyssa Sweeney.
Speaker 5:If he is pure, he is an angel. If he is faithless, he is a devil. If he succeeds in supporting an edifice, he is a marid, and if he is more than this, he is an eifrid. Abrivided from Al-Yahebus Kitab le Chaywani. It is November of 1911, and the whole of the Ottoman Empire is at war with the Kingdom of Italy. Italian soldiers keep gaining more territory, then patrol every inch of it, day and night.
Speaker 5:In a village, far enough from great cities to be overlooked, but close enough that one wouldn't want to be overheard, stood a humble home. Velikrat was an old woman then, older than her mother had been in life. Her sons were gone, hopefully far enough not to be called for war, and her husband died to fight in a different battle, that one with the Greeks. There seemed to be no end to the folly of men. Velikrat's old bones creaked like wooden boards as she kneeled on her praying rug. Prayer, day or night, was the last comfort left to her in her loneliness, and so she prayed, and she committed her thoughts and memories to Al-Ah and thanked him for lending her his ear. She had finished her prayers and rose to roll her rug and ready herself for another long night with little sleep. But such plans were thwarted. A knock at her door. Heavy-fisted and panicked, she froze in place. Quiet, but the knocking on her door persisted, sheking. Velikrat opened her door and found her face-to-face with a man in a strange uniform and a five o'clock shadow. He had brown eyes and black hair, his skin tanned by the sun. Help, he begs his accent. Alien to her. My friend is sick. She looks down and sees another such man laid out on a cartwheel, drenched in sweat, shaking and speaking in tongues. I cannot help. She points out beyond the darkness around her hoffle, go to the Mavlifis, it is their holy work you need. The man cannot comprehend her. His face tells her so, derefish. She announces, pointing in the distance. Go that way. For a moment, the man's heavy breathing and his friend's mad rants were the only thing filling the night's air. But comprehension dawned on the man with brown eyes. He carted his friend away. Velikrat closed her door and redoubled her prayers.
Speaker 5:Houdino, heavy-set and hand-by-his-time, slaving under the sun, carried his compatriot on. They had been separated from their comrades for too long. Any attempt to return would result in them being declared deserters and put to death. Given their allegiance, it was no surprise the locals did not care to give them room and board, even if they had any other clothes besides their uniforms. The language barrier was enough to separate them from others.
Speaker 5:He'd come across a church. He could not tell if it was Catholic or Christian, but they were shunned by the few remaining people of the community. The priest offered a blessing, some bread and water with directions out of the more active conflict zones, or so he had hoped. Tensions were high. The Pasha was a terrible man with too much blood on his hands. What he had done to the Armenians he easily did to his own countrymen. Between the Pasha's own forces, the Italians and the Russians, people had retreated into their communities and themselves. The old woman had given him a word he understood in directions, so he took them.
Speaker 5:Luca's fever was growing worse and Udino could not stand the thought of having to brave the land on his own. Luca spoke again in some incomprehensible tongue, driven ever deeper into the terrors of the nightmare. Before Luca became unable to move, there had been a night. Udino had woken to his friends standing over him, eyes glazed over. He had feared for his life, yet remained still in terror until Luca simply went back to sleep in his corner of the makeshift camp they had put together.
Speaker 5:As for the wheel cart, udino had to steal it as otherwise he would not have been able to carry his friend. He rums cobbled streets and the do-so is a miracle. He can hear the sound of the sea, and is both a blessing and a curse. How can he expect to jump on a boat back home? As he was, udino wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, unable to tell how long he walked since the last old woman pointed him in some direction, and he kept going on, with no other path made apparent to him. He's lost in a night's dream and simply goes. He hears the echoes of music before he sees it a small building with the lights still on a humble temple, but crafted with care. He hesitated but again could not choose any other thing. Only one path is present that offered hope, and that was to knock at the door.
Speaker 5:Udino had heard of the whirling dervish, but had been ignorant of them being mystics of Islam or any of their religious beliefs. At the moment he was allowed within, he only hoped he had been rescued at last. His own father had sought refuge in the halls of a confin after escaping a battle with his life. This was not so different. Perhaps my friend is sick. He needs a doctor. He spoke to the kindly old man with long white hair and beard, the golden ponce. Ne Atop his head sat a great hat made of camel fur.
Speaker 5:This was Sheik Sevilin, who calmly sipped his tea and listened to Udino's tale in silence, nodding his comprehension. Do you have a doctor? The soldier asked. He kept on mashing his Italian with his poor knowledge of Greek and Arabic. A few dozen words at best, which he mispronounced. But the Sheik calmly replied in a heavily accented but competent Italian we are men of God and will not turn from our door the infirm. Drink your tea and trust us to do our best for your friend. When you are healed you will be dressed and helped to depart by boat. Sheik Sevilin waved to Udino's cup, inviting him to drink from it. His tea was hot, too hot, but sweet. The soldier drank deeply from his cup and was served more Thank you. He said his words, escaping him as a rough whisper. There was a knock at the door.
Speaker 5:A brother dervish was allowed entrance into the Sheik's office. He was spurt in the holy man's ear and left, once quietly dismissed by Sheik Sevilin. His face was serious when facing the soldier. Your friend is taken by some spirit. We must cast it out tonight. Udino blinked humbly. What could he do? Or say he's weak? I don't know. Worry not, a brother will guide you so you may bathe and rest. When all is ready, you will be called to sea Two weeks to protest. Udino bowed again to the Sheik and did as he was told.
Speaker 5:Udino was pulled out of a blessed, dreamless sleep. An old man older than the Sheik himself, slowly and quietly guided Udino until they reached the wide room where the prayers would be performed. Some of the dervish sat aside to play their instruments and Luka was laid on the center of the floor. Bound Around him was a wide circular space from which Udino, his chaperone and the musicians stood clear from. Two dervishes stood wearing black mantles over their white robes. Their camel hair hats discerned from the others by a blue fabric at the base. More dervish made their way into the room, receiving blessings from the first man. Then, as they passed, luka received blessings from the second man. They eventually walked in a circle to their positions and took off their own black mantles to reveal their white robes with long skirts. These represented the veil which they would aim to lift from their eyes as they exalted the name of God and reached to greater heights of the spirit.
Speaker 5:The music began and, one by one, they recited their prayers in the palms of their movement's founder, kneeled on their praying mats and began slapping the floor with both hands. Udino could only watch, baffled, as these men spun in place, arms outstretched, their skirts rising to become perfect circles. Round and round, they went, each stuck in their place, lost in the music and the spinning, some with their eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Words came in a stream, each man dissociated from himself, entering the secret realm of the spirit to touch the face of God. Udino felt dizzy, a part of himself becoming distant from his body, as he watched when a black fog exploded from Luka. It spread and turned and twisted, beaten, weakened by the spinning of the dervish. At the heart of the dark storm cloud, that billowing black mist, came fire, and at the center a body of fire took form, almost man-like but without distinct features. Efrit whispered in awe, the old man next to Udino. The dancers continued to spin as if this was nothing to them, but the musicians nearly halted. They were ordered to continue by one of the men in the dancing ring who had blessed the dancers, and only then did Udino realize it was Sheik Sevalin, himself leading the ceremony. The other fellow at the entrance of the dancing ring must have been a Sheik as well.
Speaker 5:As the music resumed, the spinning intensified. The storm, which now came with its own thunder, succeeded until Efrit was turning also. It had no face that Dino could see, but what passed for its body? Jerked in apparent stress like a cornered animal. It turned left and right only to find dervish spinning, reseting prayers and poems, all of them with their eyes unfocused. Sheiks have been lint, drastic directly then, and the answer he got was more thunder as the fruits welled up. The dancers spun then out of where they had rooted themselves, moving in circles so precise one could not help but notice dancing, whirling, spinning, trapping the gin in a vortex.
Speaker 5:Sheiks'. Sevelin made his own recitations. Udino was unable to follow if he was addressing the effrite, the assembly or God himself. He felt breathless and about to faint when the spirit of flame gave in raising its hands high. It became a spiral fire, raising itself to the roof and exploding in every direction, splitting into tendrils of flame, a dozen, dozens of shooting stars that departed into the night through the open windows.
Speaker 5:The music and the dancers went on Until, at last, the ceremony slowly and methodically came to a halt. All ended with prayers and the recitations of the words which the old man had never left Udino's side, later repeated to him in Greek God is in the east and west, and whoever you turn, there is the face of God. They took three days to recover from the experience, pensions eased and both Luca and Udino prepared to leave the dervish and find a boat that would take them home. Likely, they would have to content themselves to finding a way to Greece and from there find another boat. They wouldn't want to be found out after all.
Speaker 5:Sheik, I'm not sure I understand what happened. Did we dream it, sheiks'? Sevelin stroked his beard and pondered before answering yes. All was but a dream until the veil was lifted at last from our eyes. Now we dream again. The veil descended anew upon our weary eyes. Luca, who could not remember much, but had been told all that Udino could recall, thanks to the Sheik, you saved my life. I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you. The Sheik waved off Luca's concerns, blessed them and sent them on their way Far, far away, yet so close to the Empire's heart, familiar winds returned to the heart of a certain desert. Upon that spot, a Bedouin caravan witnessed a storm like no other, for at the heart of that storm burned a bright blue flame.
Speaker 2:We just checked a whole lot of boxes right there.
Speaker 1:You loved the folklore.
Speaker 2:Yes, we loved the folklore. We had the gin, we had the effrite, we had the whirling dervish. This is my very pieced together knowledge of Middle Eastern folklore, sure, and it comes almost exclusively from two novels.
Speaker 1:Okay.
Speaker 2:That being the Golem and the Genie and its sequel, the Hidden Palace. These are novels by Helen Weckler.
Speaker 1:Very, very cool.
Speaker 2:Great novels. They are full of mythology. It takes, but it also takes place in not quite present day. But it's like a modern story. It takes place in like 1900s. New York Got it. Like the first one does. But you know very ancient mythology and it's a. It's a romance novel, it's not scary at all, but still you get some heavy mythology in there and just like I don't know, I never encountered the myths of the effrite and it's I don't know, it's just really cool.
Speaker 1:Yeah, and I will say so. This was written, of course, by our friend JR Santos, and he sent me some information, a lot of information, in his emails to me, so I'm going to link some sources of folks are interested in learning more, but I do want to read a little bit from his email just to to add a little context, because this is again subject matter that we're not incredibly familiar with and we can't speak on like super eloquently, but so I'm quoting here from JR. I found no mention of the dervish performing exorcisms. They were of great relevance, however, through many generations, and there's just a beautiful culture of worship through the arts music, dance and poetry and their founder was a well known mystic. Also, the jinn are not devils, but some of these spirits of the air and of the flame can be particular about what they feel like. Getting up to the effrite is exercised.
Speaker 1:In this story, this practice is called al-Azam or rukya, and exorcists are called raki. In Islam there's a belief in angels and devils or satanic beings, and for this I found it more interesting to use a being that wasn't a devil nor necessarily evil, so he took a few liberties here. So I just wanted to call that out because I think it's important.
Speaker 2:I also want to say that there is precedent again quoting my two fiction novels as historical texts, because in that there is an effrite exorcism.
Speaker 1:Oh, interesting.
Speaker 2:Well, yeah, so a woman gets possessed by an effrite and it causes all sorts of health problems for her. Not that dissimilar that you'd think from just like a Christian type possession.
Speaker 1:Right. Well, that's actually a good point, because JR sent me a little bit on that as well. Quoting again from our friend JR Much like in the real world Vatican exorcisms in the 21st century, people who claim to be possessed are generally told to seek psychiatric help. At the same time, popular belief tells of cases such as possession in which, allegedly, the gin in the form of a black dog jumped out of a boy's mouth. There's also a belief that gin fall in love with humans and may possess them Inadvertently. The latter brings to mind the movie 3000 years of longing, featuring Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton, which is a great movie. He says so again. I know this is a subject matter that we need to learn more about, but I wanted to kind of just provide that context.
Speaker 2:I think that's great, it's just really cool. You get these. It kind of strikes the same cord for me that you'd get out of Norse mythology, where you have these beings that are clearly supernatural, have all these abilities. They're very powerful, but I also have their limitations. But they're also very anthropomorphized, where they have their character flaws. They have their wants and their desires and they give into these cravings while also having a sense of right and wrong. But localized. They don't have the same moral compass as humans who, again, very limited sample set. But these, the human ideologies, are almost viewed as evil because they're so limited in scope. Any freet can change into anything. That's. One of the defining supernatural characteristics is that they're shape shifters because they're living flame. Flame is in constant motion. So to become too attached to worldly possessions or to the one's own aesthetics is almost like a taboo. It's like, oh, you're getting too human. Time to go back in the desert and learn, you know.
Speaker 1:Yeah.
Speaker 2:It's a desert-based mythology, which is kind of cool. You think okay, so you have the desert. What do you got? You got sun and you got sand. And what do you get from that? You get beings of pure fire that build temples of glass.
Speaker 1:So cool.
Speaker 2:It is cool and that's the idea of the mirage. In the distance is the palace of a jinn that you just are catching out of the corner of your eye and it's going to disappear and move and change constantly and that's why, when you get there, you can't find it, because it was a mirage. Right, so cool, or it was the palace of a jinn, and now it's just somewhere else.
Speaker 1:Right.
Speaker 2:Because they go with the wind.
Speaker 1:They have smarted you, yeah. So I also have to just pause for a moment, because not only was the story incredible, super well-written, fascinating, but our narrator, lisa Sweeney, did such an amazing job with the pronunciations here. She did a lot of work researching the pronunciations and I just want to give her a major shout out for that, because this was not an easy story for someone that isn't fluent in Arabic, and she did an incredible job head on, 10 out of 10.
Speaker 2:Lisa did a gosh darn slam. Dunk on that one Gosh darn slam dunk. Big, big fan of Lisa. That's high praise I really look forward to more from Lisa.
Speaker 1:Yes, same, absolutely so, of course. Please follow Lisa Sweeney on Instagram. Not only is she an incredible voice actor, but she's also an incredible actor, so follow her to see what she's up to. Follow her on Instagram at Lisa Sweeney L-I-S-S-A-S-W-E-E-N-E-Y, and, of course, I will link her Instagram below. And if you haven't already, please check out JR's book we Living Failures, which I will link the Amazon link in the description below. Also, he's part of an upcoming anthology which is available for pre-order called the Escalators from Hell, and I will also link that below. Heck yeah, heck yeah. Everybody's doing cool things. Go follow them, support them. They're all great.
Speaker 2:So far we're four out of four between writers and narrators. Can we go six out of six?
Speaker 1:Well, I have something a little more, a little less tangible, to round this episode out. If you remember, back all the way to episode 43.
Speaker 2:Oh, episode 43 was Killer Plants.
Speaker 1:That is incorrect.
Speaker 1:Episode 43 is where we talked about creepy kids, the history of exorcisms and TRETS syndrome, because in some cases, in a lot of cases throughout history, there was exorcisms and they were direct results of lack of medical knowledge right before we had an understanding for a condition like TRETS syndrome or an understanding of folks who are neurodivergent, right.
Speaker 1:So a lot of times those people went through exorcisms before there was knowledge about what was actually happening with them.
Speaker 1:So all the way back episode 43, we had our friend Michael Croce on the podcast and he has TRETS syndrome and he talked to us about this connection and he also told us a lot about, you know, his experiences and one of those things was sort of his parents taking him to a priest not really an exorcism, but to kind of be blessed and told like in six months this will go away now, sort of a thing. So I thought it was important to round out, because our main episode right, the real history that inspired the exorcist, that's about a real person's experience with a very, very, very long exorcism, and so I thought it was important to kind of end on a note that calls back to the people, either modern, modern day folks or in folks for the last thousands of years who have experienced these exorcisms, which may or may not have been traumatic for them, as a result of some other undiagnosed issue, right? So just kind of give us some clarity before we all sign off on this topic.
Speaker 2:I understand.
Speaker 1:So, in honor of this, the first thing I'm going to say is that I would encourage everybody to go back and listen to episode 43, because not only is Michael Shed is so much light on TRETS syndrome and it was really, really informative, it's also, you know, for being a pretty early episode of ours. I think it stands up pretty well and there's some good stories and history about exorcisms in there. So definitely go back and listen to that.
Speaker 2:That's dangerous. We say don't listen to anything before episode 50.
Speaker 1:I think we say before episode 40.
Speaker 2:What was episode 40?
Speaker 1:I don't know.
Speaker 2:We just like she, thrown out numbers here.
Speaker 1:So I have two things. I'm going to, two tapes I'm going to play for you. One is Michael, who's going to give us a little bit of context, and then the second is our friend Mike. I know Michael and Mike, but Mike is going to read us some words that Michael wrote about what it feels like to have TRETS syndrome, just to kind of give us that perspective.
Speaker 2:Okay, here we go.
Speaker 3:The privilege to remain silent. Written by Michael Grocer. Written by Mike Miserra.
Speaker 6:Hello everybody and thanks, abby, as always, for letting me be a part of lunatics radio hour, so I wanted to provide a little bit of context as to what you're about to hear. So anyway, I developed Tourette syndrome my junior year of high school. It was not just overnight, but actually quite literally over lunch when my arm shut out uncontrollably to the side and shortly thereafter, within a few minutes, my whole body became subject to involuntary movements, sounds, all that stuff. This is an unusual case, as most people have ticks from an early age and slowly come to a diagnosis rather than just sort of happen all of a sudden. My Tourette's was most severe in high school and college and though it's still with me now, it's much calmer as a 33 year old than it was back then.
Speaker 6:My sophomore year of college was particularly monumental year Just in terms of my own identity development with Tourette's and, to make it very long story short, that's when it went from being a thing that happened to me to a part of who I am. That same year I had attended an event which I think was called the Me Too monologues, which people performed their own or other people's monologues about identity. I was really inspired and I immediately went home, wrote my own monologue and then just anonymously submitted it to be performed the next year. I didn't look at the monologue again until I attended the event my junior year. I had changed and grown so much over that year which made the experience of seeing the monologue performed the closest I think I'll ever come to seeing myself in a time machine. I remembered the words and the feelings, but I could tell that I'd already grown beyond them. So anyway, now that it's a little bit over a decade past writing this, I can remember the angst and the frustration, but thankfully it no longer feels like.
Speaker 6:It represents where I am with it now which is part of the reason that I asked for it to be read by someone else, not me, so anyway, so I'm just so much more comfortable with just letting myself tick as needed and not care what anybody thinks about it, and so confronting rude comments just isn't scary anymore. So anyway, thanks for letting me ramble I hope you'll enjoy this glimpse into my personal time machine and thanks, as always, for letting me be part of the Lunatics Radio Hour.
Speaker 7:I have Tourette syndrome, a neurological condition that causes me to make involuntary movements or noises, called ticks. I've had to say that so many times. Sometimes I have to say it because something awkward happens. Sometimes because I can just see people wanting to ask but just can't. It's so relieving when you meet someone that can ask. It's unbelievable how many can't.
Speaker 7:Whenever I tell a new person about my disorder, there's always a moment, a moment of waiting. Waiting for the next tick to come, waiting for my Tourette's to bubble up again and prove its existence, waiting to see what they have to say in response. Sometimes they tell me that they would never have noticed, or that it's not that bad. Some even ask me if I've ever tried to stop. Oh, how I have.
Speaker 7:You know what really gets me, though? It gets me when people think that what they see in movies and on TV is real or, even worse, funny. People tell me all the time that I should yell things just so that I can blame it on my Tourette's and get away with it. Some even have the nerve to tell me they wish they had Tourette's, just so that they could do that. But I am stronger than that, because I know how special stillness is. Every second of silence that I get to spend in my ever-moving body is a gift, every single chosen word a blessing. I appreciate how wonderful it is to say shit or bitch when only that one word fits the situation, and to those people I mean it with every single ounce of my voluntary being. When I choose to say fuck you, it is my right to cope to my Tourette's how I choose to. It is my right to not explain why I tick or how it feels. If I choose not to, it is my right, but not my privilege, to remain silent.
Speaker 1:I've got to say that was very beautiful and powerful. I feel like I agree.
Speaker 1:It brought a little tear to my eye and I just want to also thank Michael for being so generous with us in so many ways over the years, but particularly with this topic, because I think he's providing context and a window into something that we otherwise wouldn't have. That's sort of at the expense of him having to talk about this thing over and over again. But thinking about that kid from our episode, the last episode, who went through these crazy exorcisms and then covered this up to the extent that never wanted anyone to find out his real name, there's just a lot of shame. I think in other things that people can carry with this kind of thing when it's miscategorized and whatever else. So I want to thank Michael for humanizing these tales that inspire horror stories and entertainment, because I think it's also important to pause and reflect on it in a deeper way. And again, michael's the best.
Speaker 2:Yeah, in the theme of this podcast of the history of horror, I think this was such a good way to wrap up this little exorcism series. You know, I had no idea what we were going to do for the stories episode that was based off, you know, a single movie, right, and then we ended up doing a bit of a little exploration into a bunch of beautiful tangents that have to do with exorcism. This was just such a cool idea to have Michael's words on here.
Speaker 1:To me it also feels really beautiful and full circle, because you can hear the frustration in Michael's words and the power and in the words that he'd written a while ago, and then you can hear how sort of that piece and how you know, his perception and his experience has changed with this and that's. I don't know that's.
Speaker 2:No, he's just one really nice character. Really nice character and cool cat.
Speaker 3:Yeah yeah, he is.
Speaker 1:So thank you, as always to Michael. As I've said a thousand times and I'll say again, michael is incredibly talented. Please support the Pod Nuga Network. So Michael is standing up this amazing community driven podcast network in Chattanooga, tennessee, but you don't need to live there to be interested in what he's doing. I will link their website and their Instagram below. Also, check out his podcast my Part of Town, chattanooga. He's one of those lifelong storytellers and everything that he does is worth paying attention to.
Speaker 2:And another, michael Crosso Boone.
Speaker 1:Okay.
Speaker 2:If you or a loved one are interested in starting your own podcast, he's the guy to talk to. He runs seminars on how to get started and you need. You can come in with absolutely zero experience, expertise, equipment, absolutely nothing, and he can get you off the ground.
Speaker 1:Yeah, yeah, also our friend Mike Massera, who read Michael's words. Mike, it also gave me chills a little bit when he was recording it. I thought he did a really great job. I told him sort of some of the direction that Michael had passed along and he executed it perfectly in one take. He did two for safety, but I used the first one because it was perfect. So a major thanks to Mike as well, because it brought a lot to the episode. And, as we teased earlier, mike is part of Beach Therapy. Check out Beach Therapy on Spotify. Check out their film LBI. I will link it all below. But Mike and Adam are a powerhouse duo and very, very excited to see what's coming. I think Adam has a film coming out in a few days as well, so we'll be sure to share that on Instagram.
Speaker 2:I did not expect our Exorcism Stories episode to be this feel good, wholesome wrap up that it is.
Speaker 1:Yeah Well, it took a nice turn. It took a nice turn for sure. I'm very again I don't know, maybe it's the end of the year, I don't know why I'm feeling so weepy and appreciative of everybody right now in this moment, tears are streaming down her face. I thought this was a horror podcast, but anyway, I really, truly am. Thank you all so much for listening and supporting us this year.
Speaker 2:The only thing horrific now is the state of her mascara.
Speaker 1:As always. Thank you, guys so much for being here. Stay well, stay spooky, remember to find the sentimental and the important humanism, even in the most horrific of topics, because there's enough terror going around in real life that it's important to pause, I think, and find some good things and some real, solid human connection in the midst of the state of the world. Stay well, stay spooky, and we'll talk to you soon. Bye, only Dead Plague.