I'm Liz Sower and this is ghosts in the burbs, a podcast of ghost stories from Wellesley massachusetts a warning adults who use adult language told me these frightening tales. These ghost stories aren't for kids jumping in here before we get started, you're probably going to hear ivy snoring through parts of this recording. Um, she hurt her leg this week and I didn't have the heart to kick her out of the office while I was recording. So uh, it's not a demon, it's a little ivy.
Thanks for understanding. Mhm Well you've done it again. Your merch orders brought in $554. I went ahead and rounded it up and together we donated $600 to sunflower of peace.com, a nonprofit organization committed to helping Ukrainians affected by the Russian military invasion. Thank you all for making my birthday month. Even happier this year with your generosity. Stay tuned after the story for more March news and reading, listening and watching recommendations.
Moving on things here are getting stranger and stranger. I know it isn't just happening in the swells through my Tiktok scrolling addiction. I've seen that the vibes are off everywhere in a really weird way. Not in a spooky fun way more of a scary rageful way. Have you felt that I have not just online in person too eruptions of rage and cruelty.
People saying hurtful things that cannot be taken back massive projections of anger and blame and an inability to accept any part in the situation, it's all around us. The turning of the screw fuel dumped on the fire and trust me when I say that there are beings entities and monsters in the shadows gleefully watching us burn if you haven't realized it yet. Friends were on the bad timeline. We're on the Ghost Story # 65. It's coming. Mhm Yeah. Okay. How are the girls? They're good. Really good.
I kind of fed. I mean one of them got whacked pretty hard with the family anxiety stick, but we're managing. How about you? How are things there? There was a pause. Quiet Quiet is good. Mm. Speaking of Betty mentioned you haven't heard much lately. I suppressed a grown. Yeah, it's weird. I've had an unexpected break. But you're still seeing spirits. Oh no, nothing. No one even claire even claire. Same here, Wait, what? You can't radio silence, Judith confirmed. Oh ship, I breathe.
Yeah, we're in the same boat. The energy has been wonky for months, but all of a sudden something is working very hard to block us from communicating with those on the other side. Or maybe it's blocking them from talking to us. My ears have been popping. Go on, Judith drawled. I just like no, it's claire trying to get through to me, but she can't something stopping her. Hmm. That sounds about right. It feels as though there's something standing between me and my guys.
It's kind of nice though, isn't it? What the quiet nice. No, it's menacing. So what can we do about it? Hell if I know Judith replied dismissively. But I know someone who can still here and she found me a medium. Not exactly. But I want you to meet her. Well, she wants to meet you. I don't know, Judith sai was heavy and covered so much more than words ever could. I relented. Okay. You're not going to like what she has to say and you're not going to want to believe it.
But she might be able to tell us what's happening. We aren't the only ones with hearing loss, so to speak. What do you mean? I've talked to three women and one guy in the last week. None of them have been able to access their gifts. All of them say it started happening around the last full moon. Well, that's awfully specific. When did things go quiet for you? I told her so the last full moon, she said pointedly weird, I commented uselessly. Sure is anything else strange going on there?
I filled her in on the time. Warp sinkholes. Elemental Zoos and quiet rocks in my neighborhood. Well, at least we know your uncanny ability to find yourself in it up to your eyeballs is still intact. Anything else? Oh, it's probably nothing. But I saw this woman, a witch who lives in town who tormented this man and his family A few years ago. I passed by around the trail to those rocks. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but no such thing as coincidences, Judith cut in.
Did you publish the interview? I told her where to find it on the blog. I'll read it. What are you doing tomorrow at 10? I have a feeling you're about to tell me, Judith chuckled. You're having me and a new friend over for coffee. Why can't we meet at Quebrada or something? Too many people? She wants to talk, but she wants to do it at your place. Why, Judith haft? I don't know. But I bet we'll find out. Who is she? Her name is Lillian Doyle.
When Judith didn't elaborate, I forced myself to stay silent. She's possessed, Judith said finally, Come on. Yeah. So it turns out that while the ghosts and other spirits can't communicate right now, the demons are chattering away like there's no tomorrow. Maybe that's why they're so talkative. I muttered, meaning, I don't know. But you're out of your mind. If you think I'm going to invite a possessed woman into my house for coffee, it will be perfectly safe, Judith.
There was another long silence. Look, you know, we're all in deep sh it here. You know that for some reason this woman or whatever it is crouched down inside her has something to say and it wants you to be the one to hear it. No one ever said you signed up for this ship. But here we are. So, I'm going to need you to put on your big girl pants and get involved.
I want a priest, not a fucking catholic, but some priest or pastor or something at this house immediately after she leaves to cleanse the place done, Judith said quickly, and I could sense the relief in her voice, hearing. That relief made me realize just how serious the situation was. And it scared me more than the idea of having a demon possessed woman over for a coffee and a chat.
The next morning I got the girls off to school and the dogs off to their little camp chris typically works from home, but by some miracle or curse, come to think of it. He had to be gone all day on property tours. So I had the house to myself and with nothing else to do to calm my anxiety, I set to tidying.
I put a mountain of dishes into the washer, wiped down the sticky countertops and lit a candle because I'm sensitive to the idea that the house might smell horribly of dog and I've become so accustomed to the stench that I no longer notice it. I prepped the coffee pot and organize a tray of coffee cups and fixings and a platter of pastries.
Then I gathered the dog's toys into their been made the drunk desk in the mud room, a little less junky and ran the vacuum and fluffed and karate chopped the couch cushions. Now I don't know if that is something that people do anymore. But years ago I watched Kathleen Turner do it in war of the roses and as far as I'm concerned, she is a demigod and my guiding light so my throw pillows will be styled this way until I'm too weak to karate chop them.
It's a relatively small house so all of this didn't suck up as much time as I had hoped it would. It was only 9:15. I had 45 minutes to kill. I cleaned up my email, then scrolled around online for a few minutes and filled a J crew cart with $768 worth of clothing and shoes I didn't need, then deleted everything from the car and close the laptop I was too anxious to write. So I grabbed my book Salem's lot and a bubble water headed outside and flop down onto one of our comfortable patio chairs.
It was a mild overcast day and I could hear the pleasant shrill of the peepers off in the distance. I was lost in the book when there was a knocking on the window behind me, a tight bang bang bang just behind my head. I spun around to face the tall windows and the kitchen beyond, half expecting to see Judith standing there. I've been so wrapped up in the book. I thought maybe I hadn't realized she'd arrived, but that was ridiculous. I had a full view of the driveway from where I was sitting.
No way she could have come up to the house without me noticing. All of this shot through my mind in a nanosecond. The obvious realization quickly followed that there was no one in the house. I was alone. Someone had knocked on the window right behind my head, but I was alone. I stood up and moved away from the house, stepping down from the patio and tried to rationalize the knocking. It could have been anything. We have to bird feeders.
Maybe there was a squirrel or no. It sounded like knuckles rapping on the window. I was still standing there staring at the house when Judith's car pulled up the driveway. Hey, she called, slamming the car door. I held open the gate for her and she came through pool looks gorgeous, she commented, Kids must love it. Thanks, I said distractedly. What's up? She asked, scrutinizing me. It's nothing I just, we were interrupted by a car turning into the driveway.
A sparkling white range rover zipped up behind Judith cheap, the car stereos, booming bass cut through the quiet morning for a stretch before the driver cut the ignition and step down from the suv. The woman was well petite at least a head shorter than me. She had gorgeous reddish brown, I guess you'd say auburn hair cut in a shaggy, shoulder length mixed layer cut. I looked it up later. It's called a wolf cut. It's very cool, very perfectly imperfect.
She wore a pair of cropped distressed jeans with a white button down shirt french tucked and expensive looking loafers, Gold watch, pearl studs, simple gold wedding band. Hey, I'm just gonna let you do your thing, Judith said quietly, meaning, I replied, matching her tone, interviewer, the way you would anyone else Lillian? She called. Come on back. I went to the gate to allow the woman in knock, knock, knock, she said, smiling brightly. I stood back to let her into the yard Lillian.
This is Liz Liz Lillian. You have a lovely home, the woman offered. She handed me a little brown bag, a blue and white boat tied across its handles. Just a little something for you. Thank you, I replied. Come on. Inside. Inside we went. I tried to act normal, tried to appear calm and welcoming all the while. Feeling deeply unsafe. I didn't like Lillian. It was an instant dislike, instinctive.
Deep. She looked normal, seemed pleasant enough, but something was off, most likely the fact that she was possessed or at least claimed to be sorry. It'll be a couple of minutes for coffee. I apologized, flipping on the coffee pot. Can I get either of you some bubbly water or flat bubbly for me, Judith said as Lillian said, actually, a glass of chardonnay would hit the spot a little early on a Tuesday for booze, Judith chuckled. Is it Roland replied, a pleasant half smile on her face.
I pulled a wine glass down from the top shelf and poured a generous serving of cakebread, yummy little and drawl, before taking a dainty sip, join me. I'll stick with coffee, I replied. She took a large gulp of wine. Good for you. Open your gift? I did. It was the same exact candle that I had burning on my countertop. I looked up and realized that Lillian was staring at me, her expression inscrutable. Thank you, I said. You're so very welcome, she replied, grinning. Thank you for having me.
Sure. I motioned to the kitchen table. Sit, I'll grab some treats. I brought the platter of tiny croissants and muffins to the table and sat down beside Judah, mm. These from cabrera? She asked, reaching for a napkin, yep. None for me. Thanks, decline lil in saving my calories. What on earth for Judith? Asked, popping a muffin into her mouth. Where's your little recorder, Dylan asked me, ignoring Judith's comment. Oh, right, let me grab it.
I retrieved the device from an overstuffed drawer in the mud room and settled back to the table, Lillian, leaned forward, smiling at the tiny digital recorder. Is it on? I nodded. Good, let's start the coffee pot. Beeped its little, I'm ready beep, and I stood. What do you want to talk about? I asked, putting the pot on the tray had prepared beforehand. Whatever you want to talk about, Lillian said sweetly.
I handed Judith a full cup of coffee, then poured my own tension and anxiety chased away what little bit of hospitality I had left. Look, if everything goes absolutely perfectly. I have about six hours a week that aren't sucked up by family responsibilities, so please. I've been in the weeds with a book for about three years now. I don't have time to just shoot the ship, Judith laughed. Will uncrossed her arms. Fine. What do you want to know? Why did you want to talk to me? I didn't.
Then why are we sitting here? I demanded, realizing how rude I was acting, but unable to control myself. They made me come here. They knew Judith would convince you to talk to me. The statement hung heavily in the air. Okay, I said finally. So tell me what they want you to say, and then we'll call it a day. I don't know. Come on, Loren Judith prodded. Really? I don't know. They'll tell me when they're ready. And how long do you think that'll take, Judith pressed.
How long have they been telling you things? I asked, mullen shrugged down the breast of her glass. About a year. Why you? Why not me? I looked down at my watch pointedly, Lillian tapped the side of the glass with a fingernail refill. I shook my head. You're driving prissy, goody. Two shoes little, and giggled. That's me! I said, unable to hold in a laugh. Willen grabbed a mug and dumped sugar and coffee into it. Why me? She thrilled.
Well, I think it all started when I lost the will to give a ship. She took a delicate set, not bad Starbucks. I nodded a year ago. I had this, Well, I suppose you might call it an epiphany. I woke up on rainy spring morning and I couldn't seem to scrape up the energy to give a flying fuck about anything. I felt perfectly fine. I just didn't have the will to participate in the life I'd created for myself. I got up, made myself a T and crawled back into bed.
My husband thought I was sick and I let him think that for a couple of days, but I felt better than I could ever remember feeling. It was like all of a sudden I just she made a raspberry and shrugged her shoulders. Yeah, I just couldn't give a shit anymore. I realized just how fucking absurd all of it was. I had the presence of mind not to cut and run though it wasn't off the table will and looked up at the ceiling and shook her hair back from her face.
I decided I'd go through the motions and see where it took me. I just watched, do you know what I mean? Really paid attention to what was going around me for the first time ever. And you know what I saw. Play acting all together, cringeworthy playacting at that she lowered her chin, her face blank. It was the thinly veiled, gloriously toxic mix of arrogance and self hatred that got me such a strange juxtaposition.
And yet there it was the perpetual ranking, a relieved notch or two above this one, a gut wrenching mile below that one and constantly scraping and scrambling to keep those pesky voices at bay. She sipped her coffee daintily. You know, I didn't grow up like this. It's true. I grew up in a tiny, simple little town Vermont, she tasked. I was smart enough though. I got myself into bu, my mother pushed me to choose the business school. That's where the men were. She was right.
She always was if she hadn't gotten pregnant so young, but she did. So she pinned it all on me and by God I fucking performed Willen, let out a bark of laughter, mm hmm. I knocked that ship out of the park. I met my husband, sophomore year of college. Not the sharpest tack or the kindest one, mind you, but he was interested in me and his family had money.
So I watched and emulated what the women in his life said and didn't say and did and didn't do and war and didn't wear and became the utter embodiment of old school new England wealth with all of its pinot Grigio soaked summers and Chatham winters in Stowe with the occasional jaunt to park city spring breaks and an acceptable part of florida. Autumn spent at booze soaked fundraisers all the way through holding up my end of the bargain, skeletal heathen, manicured and polished to a sparkly shine.
I had the two kids, the huge house, the yellow lab, etcetera, etcetera. And I had my eye on a stately five bed with a pool house on the Cape and had just about convinced my husband that it was a wonderful investment when I woke up that strange morning and it all just went and lost its appeal. Don't misunderstand. I'm still dedicated to remaining comfortably. Well off. I'm not about to let myself go. It's just that, hmm, I guess I just lost the ability to give a damn about anyone else.
I just want to do what I want to do. I don't have the energy for anything that doesn't directly benefit me. It's nice. And look, I'm a rich, middle aged white woman, perfectly turned out perfectly presentable, perfectly ready to spend the fun out of. My husband's not so hard earned cash. I'm a hot commodity and I can do and get whatever the funk I want. If I'm willing to play my part, turns out they want what I have to offer to. She pointed a manicured finger to the floor.
What do they want from you ask Judith? Don't know. Don't care. I feel great. I look great. I'm not hungry, so I don't care what they do when I black out. Nothing's come to bite me in the ask quite yet and they know they've got a good thing going with me. They'd be stupid to take it too far. How often do you black out? Who cares? Millen spat. Where do you live? I asked Lillian met my eyes and a big smile spread across her face. I'm off cliff on rock ridge road. You know the area?
What did you get yourself into? I asked quietly. She tilted her head and blinked her long lashed eyes. What do you mean? People don't just wake up possessed. That's not how it works. You must have done something or something was done to you. What was it? I never claimed I didn't go looking, said Lillian. What I got myself into is really neither here nor there. The point is they stripped away the illusion and showed me my true worth.
And the sheer dumb luck that I ended up in this body in this time on this earth. How silly it was of me to not take full advantage for myself for once I've allowed everyone to take advantage of me my entire life. I let my husband show me off as a prized possession. Used me to run his house, raises kids, keep him entertained. I let my kids suck the fucking life out of me, allowed other women to use me to rank themselves on that old sliding scale of worth.
So going dark and losing a little bit of time here and there. It's a small price to pay. I don't know what the funk they're doing when I go dark and I really don't care. We can help you, Judith offered, Lillian slapped her palm down on the table. You're not listening to me, she hissed. She glared at us. Open your fucking ears. You don't! She stopped talking abruptly and closed her eyes. They want me to tell you now. There was a rapping on the table well beneath the kitchen table.
I pushed my chair back without thinking, as Judith did the same beside me. There is nothing you can do about it, Willen said quietly. There's nothing anyone can do about it. About what? What's coming? Do you know what's coming? Willens elbows slid off the table, and she put her hands in her lap. She seemed to shrink into herself. You should you should enjoy what you can while you can. We all sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts. Who is telling you this? Who are you, Judith said finally.
Wouldn't you like to know? Dylan's voice had deepened. What difference does it make if you give us a name? I said impatiently, You don't want the demon to go? So? It's not like we can make it leave, Lillian smiled and her eyes took on a sort of far away look true. She bring it. Oh, what the hell? I'll give you a tiny hint, but nothing more. She thinks I'm many. But I'm one one of three. I'd like you to leave, I whispered. I want you out of my house, mullen smile faded. Don't you want to know?
I see it all so clearly. It's going to be terrible. No, I stood and opened my front door. Judith stood as well. Will and watched us. Your scientists can almost see it as clearly as I can. They misread the signs. The reason for it all, but their conclusions are correct. No one can stop what is coming. It will intensify quickly faster than you will comprehend it. On all fronts there will be peace and no silo. There will be no rest. You will get out, I said firmly. Willen stood slowly.
The star has nearly come. The pestilence thrives. The famine was foretold with the first animal driven to extinction. War Is your birthright? Death is your promise? The final end has begun. It comes too fast for regrets. Please go! I said in a shaky voice, Lillian walked past me out the door without another word. I closed it behind her and turned the lock. Moments later her car stereo burst to life and boomed as she slowly back down my driveway.
Call your priest or pastor or whoever the funk and get him over here right now on it. Said Judith already dialing. The stars nearly come, Judith said, putting down her phone. Do you think that means? Yeah, I said, before she could finish her thought. I went to grab a muffin from the platter and noticed a crumpled piece of notebook paper on the floor beneath the kitchen table.
I bent down to pick up the paper and smooth and absent mindedly on the table expecting to see one of the girls doodles Instead, the sheet held one word and delicate cursive script ball. Um, I pushed the paper across the table top to Judith and googled In the lesser key of Solomon Bowl. Um, is a powerful, great king of hell with 40 legions of demons under his command Bolling was a demon who had the power to incite rebellion. It was said that he had three heads that of a bull, a man and a ram.
This allowed him to see past present and future events and he'd just been in my kitchen, She's still in there, Judith said Lillian, but he's just about eraser. I thought she didn't want to get rid of them. We weren't talking to lil in Judith said sadly. I thought you realized that Yeah, I've made the commitment to keep our space ad free. But if you are interested in doing something priceless to help the show, please tell a spooky friend about it, right?
And review it wherever you listen and follow me at ghosts in the burbs on instagram and tiktok, those three things are incredibly valuable And while you're at it and I can't stress this enough. Go ahead and do it for the other podcasts you enjoy. Now May 2022 ghosts in the burbs, merch proceeds will go to the planned parenthood action fund and remember if you disagree with the cause, then don't buy my merch.
If you are triggered or angry with me for supporting the basic human right to body autonomy don't bother letting me know. I don't care. for everyone else. Head over to ghosts in the burbs dot com for all the links and that's all for now take care of you read the Dead in the Dark by Courtney Golds. It's G. O. U. L. D. And the Hamish Macbeth mystery series by M. C. Beaton in all its glorious entirety. Listen to the witches of Eastwick soundtrack while you're on a walk outside.
Trust me on that one, it's great. And finally watch or rewatch the 2012 movie. The possession. I had to 10 seconds skip, skip, skip past several moments of Gore. But the story really creeped me out. All right, good night, Sleep tight and don't forget your nightlight. Yeah. Ps I don't usually do bloopers but this one was funny one of the girls broke something in the kitchen. We were interrupted by a car turning into the driveway. Holy fuck everything was fine except the glass. Okay,