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There's a new Sheriff in town

Terrie M. ScottThere's a new Sheriff in town... by Terrie M. Scott, April 28, 2014

Hey guys, hope you are well. What brought you to studying paranormal? A personal experience? The loss of a loved one? Some people just flat out don't believe. Others believe blindly. Most are somewhere in the middle, with a healthy, “I have to see it for myself to believe it...” attitude.

 

I was born in 1964, so during my day we'd watch films like “The Werewolf” or “Dracula's Castle” while lying on our living room floor, our faces just a mere inches from the screen. We all loved ghost stories. My parents had a couple of books about ghost and the supernatural that they got from a book club and I remember looking at the black & white photographs of the ghostly images and wondering if it could possibly be real.

My first trip overseas was when I was 15 to attend an International Christian Youth Conference in Cornwall, England. Nothing was more thrilling than sneaking out at night, as the thick billowing fog bank came off the ocean and rolled across the old cemetery.  We were scared out of our minds, but it was exhilarating. Did we really think something was going to walk out through the mist? No, but it was still fun thinking about it.

And, I was a science geek. Loved everything to do with science and not prone to just leaping on the band wagon of spooks and spectrum. Show me something tangible. Something I can see for myself, even if I can't explain what I am seeing. And, then let me debunk what I just saw and find a logical explanation for it, if that is possible.

I've said this time and time again. We did not seek out a “haunted” location. It was by chance that it found us. It didn't take long for my dreams of a safe haven, art center or community outreach program for domestic violence went by the wayside. You brain really does have problems processing things that should not be happening yet are happening right before your eyes.

Why of all places should a rectory have ghosts or paranormal activity? Ultimately, it was a priest who led us to the answer and the evidence of animal abuse was scattered all over the building, unfortunately.

Bad things happened there, which is not to tarnish the good that was done. But still, things happened there that should not have happened – to children, animals. Why in this place? Native Americans lived in that area long before the settlers arrived and then they were driven out, too often brutally. What blood had been shed there already before Sedamsville was even born? And, what a tragedy that Father MacLeod was struck by a train right at the end of the street. Couldn't he hear the roar of the engines?

So this wicked place ended up in our care. We poured our hearts into bringing it back to its original beauty, but we did not know that renovations often stir things up. Everything went downhill from there. We actually asked a paranormal group to come in and help us when we just need answers.

That's what you guys want, isn't it? Answers. To see if it's real or to make contact. To change a skeptic into a believer. Started innocently enough, but we had no idea just how far down the rabbit hole that place would drag us.

And, sure as scary as it was... it was also a bit exhilarating at first. A haunted place? Really? It was like being a kid again, waiting to see what might happen next.

However, from the outside looking in that innocent curiosity quickly becomes something terrifying and also something that through lack of experience and knowledge . . . follows you home. It burrows into your life and destroys it from the inside out.

You can read my past blogs for greater detail. The point I am trying to make in this blog is what's next?

What do you do with a place like this? All we wanted to do was restore it. But, it won't behave.

To all the investigators that say they have spent a decade or more and never found a place like the rectory, that must be exciting. But, with that excitement comes responsibility. You don't wield this activity recklessly or invite it into your life.

And, what is our responsibility? We obviously want to preserve this building. But, even now... I just want to contain it. Does that make sense?

I get it now. It took me a very long time to see its roots and just how deep they go. I can take a step back and look at it with a different perspective. Even now when I watch scary movies, I often see things I can relate to and they rarely scare me... after all the real thing is much more terrifying.

I'm a lot wiser now than when we began renovating the rectory. These blogs are meant to give you a peek into what's going on since we began work there, but it only scratches the surface. I'm not big on sensationalism and I'm not one to “pimp” out the rectory for picnics and what not.

What happened there was a tragedy... The imprint is has left on that place I believe is permanent. The way if affects those that spend time there is real, dangerous and often devastating. It turns love into hate. Joy into tears. Friendships into enemies. It turns a healthy mind and body into a sickness and darkness that can easily consume you.

All the while, you can hear it softly laughing... Just like the EVP the GHOST ADVENTURES caught in the basement when Tim said he felt sick... That hideous little laughter. That's what is does. I know it's real and tangible. It's not a figment of my imagination. I often wish it was. It was a safer, childlike wondrous place to never know the real truth behind those ghost stories from my past.

Where are we at now? Tim isn't going back. And, he shouldn't. The loss of his brother last August only served as a vessel for whatever lies there to sink its hooks in further. I'm going to try and help him rebuild his life, take back what was lost because of that place. Turn the tables on that place and stop letting it win. It can laugh all it wants, but we do have choices. It's not an easy force to overcome when something does follow you home, but you can sure fight it with everything you have.

Tim and I used to be the best of friends. Well, that's been shot to hell. No one's to blame. It's just what that place does. It changes people. And, not in a tiptoe through the tulips kinda way. I just can't believe how fractured our friendship has become.

Onward Christian soldiers... may sound corny to some of you, but boy is it ever true.

As to the investigators that we have let experience - I realize that although I may use caution, I have no way of knowing if you do the same. Are you there for scientific purposes or to simply make matters worse for us? I have turned so many away that had the audacity to tell me they want to provoke in hopes of getting oppressed... Um, really? Yeah, not gonna happen. That's so ridiculously irresponsible.

Why admit that you intentionally want something to walk in, oppress you and potentially systemically destroy your life one layer at a time? I don't even reply to those emails. Now, I'm at the point that I don't know if I can trust seasoned investigators in there. Yes, it's active. Yes, it's what you search for. But... the dangers far out weigh your need for answers and evidence.

Tim's out of the picture and that leaves me, all by myself. I would love to turn that place into a domestic violence outreach center. But, can you imagine? It's such a shame. I fear whatever is there would only prey on the desperate situations and victims that would walk through the door.

It, whatever it is... wants us. Feeds off of us. Devours us. Why give it toys to play with, you see?

Who am I to deny investigators such a golden opportunity in a place that may hold the answers they seek?

Who am I? Well, I'm the new Sheriff in town.

I'm not going to let it play or feed. I've seen what it does. I've seen the marks on my father and others. This isn't Hollywood. This is real. I've seen the image Zak and Billy caught on their full spectrum camera. Yeah, no thanks. I've heard the threats it's made on our lives through EVPs.

It needs to go back to being a secret little Hell. I'd love to have cameras set up just to watch what it does when no one is around. That would be fascinating, like our Facetime sessions. But, doesn't mean you need to put yourself in the thick of it. Watch from a safe distance.

I'm so over the rectory, you just have no idea. If I could bury it deep into the ground? I would.

But what about the renovations??? I don't know. And, I'm at the point where I really don't care anymore.

I was over there to feed the homeless kitties last week. My son-in-law went with me. We heard what was clearly footsteps walking up the kitchen stairs... one step at a time. LOUDLY. Sounded like a burglar was in there. You just scream, “ENOUGH ALREADY!!! STOP!” Jay was a bit spooked by it. I'm like, “Yeah, we hear it all the time.” There are rooms, like the servant's quarters than give off such a static charge... no clue what that is, but it's consistently like that.

They say people come with baggage. Well, so do buildings. And, the rectory needs some serious therapy.

Will I let people keep investigating? I highly doubt that. Kings Island Amusement Park offers safe thrills and the only thing that may follow you home is a stuffed animal you won at the arcade.

I just don't want the rectory to keep hurting people. Put the Genie back in its bottle, good riddance. And, no I'm not giving it away so someone else can exploit it. I'm keeping it, safe. I'm not going to give it what it wants.

Yeah, the place scares me. But, it doesn't own me.  Not anymore...

 

 

Terrie M. Scott