More Than a Bump in the Night…Rescue

More Than a Bump in the Night
More Than a Bump in the Night

It was as if our feet were cement, and climbing stairs a task of arduous strain. Physically I felt sick, bilious and light-headed, as each step brought us closer to the landing. Not a word was spoken, the three of us under enormous weight, or at least that’s how it felt.

The call for help had alerted us three days prior. A single mum with a seven year old child was having such alarming nightmares, the mother became frantic and a friend of a friend had given her our number. The mother knew something was wrong and had tried to placate the problem in her own mind until the evening of two days prior to our visit.

She was just nodding of to sleep when she felt a presence in her bedroom, at least a chill that woke her up to investigate. She saw nothing and put it down to nerves and an active imagination, until she felt a strong hand pressed down over her mouth. She tried to scream to thrash about in an attempt to free herself, but there was no-one there; her mind was reeling in fear and confusion.

The bed covering suddenly exploded off the bed and she now felt the weight of a full body on hers, a warm breath against her neck. The absurdity of the situation could not be addressed in such panic, her only instinct was to free herself by every means possible. Then to her horror she felt a forceful penetration and she screamed in shear terror as her body was being defiled by seemingly nothing. Not a sound emanated from her mouth and soon the rhythmic affront was gaining momentum until with one final thrust, it stopped. The weight left her body and she hunched up into a ball, tears streaming down her face in shock and completely confusion.

We stood on the landing, a loud voice screaming at us to leave, and it had such rage in it, we knew this wouldn’t be easy. The woman’s name was Clara and she opened the door to us with a grim expression. The child was with a grandparent and we were alone to deal with this dark entity. As was our process, we split up to explore each room, looking for cold-spots and further evidence of this intruder. Clara was Catholic, and on the walls were pictures of the Madonna and several religious porcelain figures on shelves and walls.

There were multiple cold spots, areas that felt like you were in a freezer and when I walked into the laundry/ironing room, a molded effigy of the Virgin suddenly flew off the wall and smashed onto the tiled floor, accompanied by a guttural low voice….”Get Out!” it said in no uncertain terms. Then a chair in the kitchen began to slide across the floor, and a picture in the lounge area fell to the ground breaking the glass.

Our leader Margaret signified the main bedroom as the worst point of influence and we formed a circle holding hands and praying for the light that would assist our lost friend in his rage on earth. Margaret spoke the words of comfort that enticed this lost soul to come closer, but it was so angered it struggled, groaning like some trapped animal. It wasn’t until Margaret contacted the man’s mother who within the light spoke to her son.

“I’ve been waiting for you Gerard, you need to come with me now. All that anger is not needed, you leave that all behind and come with me,” she said in a soothing voice.

Gerard, still struggling edged into the light and as soon as his ethereal body touched it, he rose up and was gone. Clara suddenly fainted and I caught her just before she hit the ground. Fifteen minutes later we were all drinking tea and for the first time for a long time, Clara was laughing, the weight of her experience slowly dissipating.

The whole rescue took somewhat longer than this written explanation, for the sake of concise expression, but the terror of the process cannot be overplayed. This was the only rape I had experienced in what we called ‘rescue’ work, but I have heard of others.

As part of this group I saw many strange and unexplained phenomena, and to this day it gives me chills just thinking about it. In those days I was brave and filled with irrepressible youth; I’m not sure I could ever do it again. Being a medium requires much training and sacrifice and it is one of those areas one cannot dabble in, as there are dangers and so much more to life that any of us can imagine.

Tony DeLorger © 2017

Tony DeLorger
Latest posts by Tony DeLorger (see all)

Tony DeLorger

Full time author, freelance writer, poet and blogger since 1999. Twenty one published works, past winner of 'Poet of the Year' on HubPages, 'Poem of the Year' on The Creative Exiles, writer for, Google+, videos on YouTube and book sales on website, Amazon and

2 thoughts on “More Than a Bump in the Night…Rescue

  • February 7, 2017 at 1:46 AM

    I agree, Tony, that one cannot dabble in such an occupation. It takes a strong, spiritually enlightened person to take on these types of experiences. I can imagine the memories you must have of those days. This is a well written memoir, tense and frightening. Glad it ended in peace.

  • February 7, 2017 at 4:34 AM

    Thanks Phyllis, never experienced anything that didn’t end in peace, but I’m glad I’m no longer involved in such things. Great experience, but not for me now. My mind is involved with a more positive and natural life. Take care.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

By continuing to use the site, you agree to the use of cookies. more information

Our cookie settings are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. By continuing to browse this website you are accepting our cookie policy.