More of the supernatural, scary, strange, and shocking will always be added
As far as I know, Anneliese Michel is the most popular exorcism story, besides maybe Robbie Mannheim (who the original Exorcist was based on) we’ll get to him next.
First is a video with visuals, pictures, information, and the actual audio of the exorcism. (The video where she names the ‘ones who dwell within’ is further down), There’s no actual video footage because the technology wasn’t available yet, but audio was and it is absolutely bone-chilling. She speaks multiple-languages including ancient tongues which can not be explained. This is the same unedited recording that was used in the trial.
Disclaimer: If you’re easily disturbed, listen at your own risk.
– Anneliese Michel was a controversial case, as well as the subject of many fictional accounts of her tragic story, most notably the 2005 courtroom drama The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Sixteen year-old Anneliese Michel had a history of epilepsy and mental illness, for which she had often been treated at a psychiatric hospital. However, in 1973 Michel become suicidal, spurned all religious artifacts, drank her own urine, and began to hear voices. Medicine did nothing to help the girl, who begged her family to bring in a priest because she believed that she was possessed by demons. Though her request was rejected, two local priests secretly began treating her with exorcism rites. Meanwhile, her parents stopped treating her epilepsy and mental disorders. She was dead within a year.
Michel had almost seventy exorcisms performed on her over the course of ten months. She refused to eat, and often talked of dying as a martyr. Anneliese Michel died from emaciation and starvation. Consequently, her parents and the priests responsible were charged with negligent homicide..
(Side note: when the priest asked the demon to say it’s name, supposedly there were 6 of them possessing her and one of them said it’s name was Hitler.. Hitler was a criminal that rose to unbelievable power to the point some people basically worshipped him even though he committed some of the most horrific acts in history to a certain race/RELIGION. There were almost 20 attempted assassinations on him, even by his own men, all of which failed. He “took over” about 25% of the planet, and was never technically brought to justice or killed. They say he committed suicide, but just a personal “what-if-theory” for fun, maybe demons or possession played a part?)
– Within a few days, though, the bales began to approach the boundaries of the farm. I was tired of the whole game by then, and decided to move them back. It took a tedious hour to bring them all from where they were to over near the house again, and by the time I was done I was ready to snap the neck of whatever little pissant was deciding to screw with me.
– The next morning, I found each and every one of my horses messily decapitated. The smell was what woke me up. Each one was slumped over against the side of its stall. There were no signs of the heads. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the mess and burying the remains. It was only when I was done that I noticed the bales of hay had all returned to their positions from the day before, scattered far out into the fields. This time I left them where they were.
– That night I sat on my porch with my shotgun in hand and a pot of coffee on the table beside me. I sat for hours, straining my eyes into the fields to catch a glimpse of who was moving my hay bales. Finally, I was beginning to nod off. I would have, but just as my eyes began to close I heard a clamor and a rustling of trees from the nearby woods. I leaned forward, my heart racing with excitement; I was going to catch the bastard. I fumbled with my gun and fidgeted in my seat, waiting anxiously for whoever it was to get close enough to ambush. It was only when the thing got close enough for me to make out its silhouette in the dark that I was frozen still. The thing that crept into my fields from the nearby woods didn’t seem to notice me sitting there.
– It stalked, hunched and deliberate, through the field with the posture of a tiptoeing thief. If not for the fact that it must have towered to over ten feet tall even in its crouched position, it might have seemed almost frail. The thinness of its arms and legs and the emaciated, caved-in quality of its chest reminded me of a starving animal. Still, this thing was undeniably strong, and I watched it hoist each bale up into its arms with ease, and set it down carefully a while away, taking only a few strides to cover the distance. I watched it work, moving each bale thoughtfully. Every once in a while it would straighten up to look around at the other bales’ positions in the field, before adjusting the one it was working on ever so slightly.
– Before it left, it looked towards the house. I felt its eyes sweep over me in the dark, but whether it saw me or not I couldn’t tell. Then, it turned silently and crept back the way it came, disappearing into the dark of the woods. It took me an hour before I had the courage to move at all. I went inside after a while, but didn’t sleep that night. It was only when the sun rose that I dared step off my porch into the fields. The hay bales were where it left them. Strangely, it didn’t move them as far as it had in the previous days.
– They were approaching something invisible in the fields, and as I looked at them I realized that they seemed to be marking some line. Indeed, as I walked around the house, I saw the distinct circle that they formed with me at the center. At first I thought the bales were just being haphazardly moved away from the house, but now I could see that they were instead being moved towards some boundary. The thing was sending me a message. I slept uneasily that night, and only because I was exhausted.
– The next morning the bales hadn’t moved at all. They didn’t move at all for the rest of that week, in fact. They were finally where the thing wanted them. I made myself sick trying to interpret them. Why would this thing expend so much energy moving my hay bales, and threaten me with such violence should I try to interfere? Killing my horses was just that – a threat. An intelligent threat, at that. It knew what would scare me, and it knew that I would understand the implications.
– The sound of an automobile working its way along the road to my farm one morning gave me a little rush of excitement. I’d been planning to abandon the farm since I saw the thing, but I couldn’t hope to leave on foot without risking it treating me like it treated my horses. But, if I could get in the car with whoever was coming my way, I might be able to escape before it could stop me. I didn’t know or care who it was. I decided that the moment they stopped the car, I would jump in the passenger’s seat and tell them to get the hell out of here. I didn’t get the chance.
– The car worked its way slowly along the road, trundling across the uneven ground. I urged it silently to hurry. It was when it passed between the two bales placed on either side of the road that I began to hear a booming clatter from the woods. The thing burst suddenly from between the trees, sprinting on all four of its terrible, gangly limbs towards the car. Within a few seconds it was there, pouncing on the automobile like a predatory cat. Within moments it was picking and peeling the vehicle’s steel frame apart, working to get at the driver.
– The man, whoever he was, screamed all the while and I could hear him even over the crunching of metal and the shattering of glass. It was only when the thing crushed him carelessly in its hand that the screaming stopped. It tossed him away, and straightened up to look at me once again. In the sunlight, I could see the inhumanity of it. It was composed entirely of something awful and alive which was lashed together in a messy semblance of a human form. Whatever it was made of looked so polished and hard, that if it weren’t for the minute writhing of the stuff, I’d think it was made of granite.
– The thing retreated back into the woods, and I was left to my shock. My eyes wandered to where the car sat, the engine still sputtering, between two of the hay bales. Suddenly, I understood. The message was clear. I am this thing’s captive, and I am not allowed visitors. Nothing may cross the borders it has set. I’m trapped here, by the thing that stalks the fields, and it demands nothing except that I never leave.
– Still, I don’t know if I can handle being that thing’s canary. I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days since I saw it crush that man’s chest, and silence him before he could finish his scream. If I crossed the hay bale border, it’d probably do the same. It’d smash my skull before I could put my hands up to protect myself. It’d go and find a new pet, and probably keep looking until it found someone who could stand knowing that it was waiting just outside, watching it at all hours with its shiny, insect eyes.
– I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days, and I might just make a run for it.
“Red Caps” originated in Scotland and were like the Jason Voorhees of the mystical world—murderous and unstoppable. Although depicted as gaunt old men, Red Caps were also armed with sharp claws and teeth. They had super strength and could overpower a fully grown man. As if that wasn’t scary enough, they sometimes also carried around a scythe, which they used to hack and slash people to death. After they brutally murdered their victims, the Red Cap would mop up the blood with its cap, hence the name. These fairies were also alleged to be cannibals who ate both humans and fairies. The only way to ward off these murderous critters was to recite biblical verses. The victim had to be pretty quick tho, because not only were Red Caps insanely strong, they were also incredibly fast
According to an old intern from Nickelodeon about five years ago, he, other interns and the lead animators for Spongebob Squarepants were in the editing room to clean up and produce the final cut of a SB episode, Fear of the Krabby Patty. Now, in their office, they usually named episode titles something that was completely unrelated to the content. For example, the title in the production office for “Rock-a-by-Bivalve” – an episode where Spongebob and Patrick adopt a baby scallop – was “How Sex Doesn’t Work.” It’s their little inside joke. So when the title card said “Squidward’s Suicide”, no one took it seriously. As usual, the usual cheery, beachy music played and the first scene came up. Squidward was playing his clarinet (badly, as usual) while Spongebob laughed noisily outside. Squidward told him to shut up because he needed to practice for his concert that night. Spongebob agreed and went to goof around with Patrick and Sandy. This was where all the normal scenes end. The bubbles rushed up the screen – a usual scene transition for the show – and the last bits of Squidward playing was shown. Frames start to repeat themselves and no sound was played despite the fact that during that stage of animation, scenes were already synced with the sound and that their speakers were working perfectly. When he was done with his clarinet, the sound came back again and murmuring was heard from the crowd of fishes. After a few seconds, the mumbling turned into booing. Yeah, any Spongebob fan or watcher knows that Squidward’s ALWAYS booed, but this time it was different. The jeers had malice in them, and the worst part was, Spongebob was part of the taunting crowd, which was definitely weird because he’s practically the only supporter Squidward’s got. The bubbles transitioned again, this time cutting to Squidward sitting on his bed directly after the concert. He looked very sad and depressed, which is understandable, I guess. Again, the sound was absolutely cut. For about thirty seconds, Squidward did nothing but stare and blink. After that, the silence broke and he began to sob and cry with his tentacles on his eyes. The background sounded somewhat like a breeze blowing through a forest. A close up of Squidward’s face then came to view. His soft cries turned into loud and tortured sounds of clear sullenness, offense, and anger. The breeze turned into a storm as it blasted through the speakers and Squidward’s sobs no longer sounded cartoon-ish. They sounded dead real, like a real person was crying from behind the screen. The scene started to twitch and return to normal then back again in a fast speed. At this point, all the people in the room were starting to wonder if the episode was really appropriate for children to watch, and how it relates to “Fear of the Krabby Patty”, which was the episode they thought they were watching. Anyway, mixing in with the sound of the crying and blazing storm was that of faint laughter. Thirty seconds of this later, the screen blurred and started twitching again. There was a sudden change in scenery, like a single frame was cut and replaced. The animator went through that part again in slow motion to see what the replaced picture was only to find a gruesome picture of a six year old boy. He was clearly dead on the pavement of what seemed like a road in nothing but his underwear. His left eye was popped out and there was a messy gash somewhere on his stomach. Lying beside him was a pile of his entrails. While they looked at the picture, one of the interns noticed that there was a shadow of a man on the road. He had his arms raised in the manner you would if you were taking a picture, which meant that he was the photographer and possibly the killer of the boy. No tags or police lines were found, which meant that the still was clearly not part of an evidence file. Of course, everyone was horrified, but watched further in hopes of finding an explanation for all this. The scene flicked back to Squidward, still crying. His sobs were louder now, more disturbing. The camera focused on the Squidward to show his eyes blood running down from them. The storm was starting to sound like a full out cyclone and the laughing grew louder, longer, and more disturbing. The scene twisted into another morbid scene, this time of a little girl about the same age as the boy. Her hair was drenched in her own blood and she was laying face down on the street. A similar opening was found at her lower back, her left eye was popped out and again a pile of entrails was found beside her. Like the previous image, she was only in her underwear and the photog/killer’s shadow was part of the still. The only female intern couldn’t take it anymore and ran out of the room and the others looked like they just choked down vomit. The show went on again, this time with Squidward’s eyes bloodshot, still with the blood dripping from it. He did nothing nor say anything. He just stared forward, as if watching whoever was watching him.
He started crying again, only this time his moans were absolutely scary. It was loud, painful, with screams mixed into it and the tears of blood were gushing out at a heavy rate. The screen twitched again and another photo of a dead child flashed. This time, no one could take it anymore. The lead animator stopped playing the video and called Stephen Hillenburg, Spongebob Squarepants’ producer. Since he had no idea what was going on, they had to play the final parts of the episode to show him. The show had no sound again and Squidward’s face was on the screen. The same voice that was laughing earlier distinctly said “DO IT” and the next thing they knew, Squidward had a shotgun on his hands. He positioned it to his head, the screen went black, and the sound of a gunshot was heard. The “episode” ended with a few seconds of Squidward’s dead body. Hillenburg was obviously angry, demanding someone explain what just happened. Since no one could, they checked all their equipment for any foreign software because it was possible that someone bugged their system. They also checked for glitches, anything that could have made what just happened happen, but found none….
**Like Spongbob? See how the 7 main characters on Spongebob represent the 7 Deadly Sins and more, check out the DYK Page**
**There’s a #Flipboard #Magazine called ‘Unsolved Mysteries and The Unknown’ with some interesting stuff in it too**