During a rainy, winter evening while I was inside a store picking up an order of pizzas for delivery, I received a disturbing text from Ian, who was waiting in the vehicle parked just outside. “There’s something outside the car. I’m scared.” I responded back for him to pray immediately, which he did, as I stepped quickly away from the counter and bolted out the entrance into the heavy rain, looking for what my husband was talking about but seeing nothing other than the sheets of water pummeling from above and onto the neon-lit asphalt. I opened the driver’s side door and told Ian to come into the store with me right away. He complied, his face pale and eyes wide with fear.
As we crossed over the threshold and into the warmth of the pizza restaurant’s lobby, I could see that Ian was shaking visibly, and took his hand in mine, startled by how cold his skin felt. I put my arm around him and rubbed his back, trying to friction some heat to ease his shivering. He was still trembling uncontrollably, so I knew that whatever had happened to him, it was bad. I asked him if he could talk about it with me while we waiting for the order to be handed over, but he declined, concerned about how others may respond in the crowded lobby should they overhear. After a few minutes, I retrieved the order, then we both headed back out into the dampness to begin the delivery leg of the trip.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I again asked if he could tell me what happened. The story he relayed was something out of a horror film:
While I was inside the store, a dark silhouette of a tall man approached the car, rain bouncing off of it’s “body”. But instead of familiar human features and clothing, the entity was just a shape of a man, filled with black, billowing smoke. The demon circled the car, and as it neared the passenger seat, placed its hand against the glass next to Ian’s face. The hand had long fingers, like claws, which tapered at the ends. Like the rest of the entity’s form, the hand was writhing blackness, and not flesh. As the demon touched the glass, Ian began to feel the life energy being drained from his body. This unclean spirit was using Ian to fuel itself, feeding off of him. When I bolted out of the store to retrieve him, Ian said the entity shot back into the driving rain and disappeared.
I pumped the heater in the car to max to try and warm him as I drove, as Ian was still shivering. Together, we prayed as wee made the delivery, then I logged out of the app to take Ian home and spend the rest of the night with him. I did not want him to be alone.
As we exited the car and into the bright security light of the carport along the side of our home, I looked at the passenger side glass next to where Ian had been sitting. My blood ran cold, as there was a clear hand print on the glass, with beads of rain trickling around it as if the oils from skin had created a repelling residue. I ushered Ian inside and grabbed the vial of holy water from the altar in my studio, and went back into the carport. I wiped away the hand print with a cloth and splashed holy water on the glass, then used my finger to make the sign of the cross with the sacrament. I did the same on all windows around the car, reciting the Lord’s Prayer, Hail Mary and prayer to St. Michael, removing the touch of the demonic and replacing it with the blessings of Christ, Our Lady and the archangel.
Ian and I shared quality time together for the rest of the evening, thankful to God for his help and protection, and for not allowing the demon to cause permanent physical or spiritual damage to the man I love.