Ghost Sex The Violation

by G L Davies

  Lisa: I remember, sat there in the shower with the water covering me. that we couldn’t get any help from anyone. What would you do if your neighbour or friend ran into your house with a bleeding and torn anus, covered in sick and shit saying they had been raped by a ghost? People may say I should have called the police, but who could it have been? Who is the suspect? Would they simply believe it was a ghost? Yes officer I was anally abused by a ghost, do you think you’ll catch him? It sounds like a load of fucking nonsense and the only witness was my son. What if they charged him with sexually assaulting his own mother? Then I thought, what if they accused me of doing it to myself? How degrading and how humiliating would that be?

  I was furious with Mum, she told me the house was cleansed, she told me it was safe to go home and it had been for years so why now had it come back? What was this terrible ghost’s infatuation with me? and why had it been gentler the first time? and why had it been so fucking violent and degrading the second time? What had happened on the landing? Who were the voices? and what was the blue light? Then it all clicked. An epiphany I think they call it and it all made sense. I hadn’t been sexually assaulted by a spirit. I had been sexually assaulted by two.

  Aftermath

  I am a thirty eight year old investigator of the Paranormal and have investigated the metaphysical since I was eleven. I have experienced many strange and unconventional elements associated with the study and investigation of the subject and never have I been so physically sickened and disturbed by such an account.

  This is not your usual supermarket tabloid style magazine story of ‘I had sex with a Ghost!’ This is something far more malevolent and sinister. What concerns me is this insidious and degrading act cannot be deemed sexual as it is more of a torture and humiliation, it is a contravention of deep rooted physical, emotional and mental torture. There is no sexual gratification in its act. It is a statement from a powerful and violating entity that it can do what it wishes, has no regard for feelings or consideration of the suffering and anguish it causes to its victim.

  This entity has such little regard for the lives of humans. What Lisa has had to endure is shocking beyond belief. This creature made the callous decision to face her toward her dismayed and anguished son during the maltreatment, whom by his own admission was powerless to intervene, to protect his matriarch, the woman that brought him into this world.

  As I asked in A most haunted house what are the motives behind such un-earthly life forms? It is incomprehensible as a human, to even begin to understand the thoughts and design of these creatures, which breach our reality and do as they please. Are they after a withdrawal or surrender from our mind and souls so they can pick us off after our last breath? Are they simply wearing us down, making us weak so they can torture us further in the afterlife? There are many theories on why these entities do what they do, however, we will not know the answers until we take our final precious breath and journey into the unknown country that is death.

  The forces that thrive on evil, that thrive on abuse and harm, cannot be fathomed by good willed, kind and loving people. If we were question the motives of a child, who was pulling off the wings of a fly, would they understand the suffering they were causing? Do these creatures visiting our realm have an emotional detachment towards us or possibly no emotions at all?

  Are we so low on the totem pole of existence that supernatural presences regard us as we would a flea nibbling at our ankles? Do they find amusement and pleasure in the ungodliness they preside over us or do they operate on a spectrum truly beyond the scope of human rationale? Shall we ever understand their predilection with humanity?

  In my shock and horror at the families account I also have to ask myself what if they have made this up? What twisted and immoral mind would create such a wrong doing? Several times Lisa broke down and cried in her recanting and Tyler’s body language was one of fury, resentment, a man who wanted to avenge his mother’s abuser. There is viciousness, a poison in his voice when he refers to the Shitty man. I still believe that Tyler is holding something back from me. I will let him replace his vitriol with calmness before I broach the subject with him again, but I will get my answer.

  I look at Lisa with different eyes. If what she tells me did happen or she believes happened then she is a very brave woman. Her stubbornness is ferocious as she recants the tale in the home in which the violation took place. She explains how there was no help for her to move home, she could not ask for help from the authorities and her relationship with her mother suffered greatly as a repercussion of the assault. She had no choice but to keep living, to keep going.

  I ask Lisa if she needs a break but she feels compelled to push on, she tells me that she needs to tell this, her testimonial is her cantharis, it is part of the healing process which she has been unable to do for so long.

  Besides, I am intrigued by the notion that there were two spirits in her home and what their relationship was to each other. Did Lisa in fact have a guardian angel protecting her?

  Lisa: That was so hard to tell you. I know you will speak to Tyler too to get his version. It’s sickening; I hate the fact that he has to tell you. I hate the fact he saw me like that. I had no dignity; I was humiliated and degraded in front of my own son.

  The days and weeks that followed the attack, I call it an attack as what else can you call it? Anyway, after the attack I slept in Tyler’s room. For the first week or so he stayed in there too and slept on the settee he had in there but I think he started to feel a bit suffocated by me and needed his own space. He was a young man after all and we couldn’t share a bedroom for the rest of our lives, things were weird enough as they were. We were aware of nothing happening in the house, nothing unusual like the smells or the change in temperatures or electrical orbs and lights, nothing like that. Tyler suggested we move rooms, that he strip mine and move into there, we re-decorate his and I move into it. It was a good idea, I don’t think I could ever have slept in that room again. To me it still reeked of the thing that raped me, even though the room had been cleaned a dozen times that first week.

  The immediate days after, I was in a state of shock. I didn’t tell Mum, I didn’t want anything to do with her after she lied about the house being safe. I was in so much pain, physically and emotionally. No one should have to endure anything like that.

  I contacted the council and asked for a house swap but they had nothing immediate. I would have taken anything as long as it was a roof over our heads but I started to think what if it wasn’t the house, what if the Ghost was following me? I couldn’t be sure that it was the house. In most films and books the haunting seems to focus on a particular house, but now and again the ghosts follow the people and I was scared of that. I don’t think at that time I could have coped with the idea of these things getting me regardless of where I was.

  I was tempted to get counselling, you know, for sexual abuse. But how could I pretend to be talking about another human being when there wasn’t one. How could I listen to advice from a counsellor, or speak to the police or doctors when there was no proof but the injuries I had around my rectum? There was nobody to accuse or to identify.

  I read pamphlets and books about rape victims and in a way it helped, but it just wasn’t the same; there could be no justice or a conclusion to this. No one could ever be tried for the crime. As far as knew this thing, this dirty scunt*, would have its way with me until my dying day. One night I called the Samaritans and I told them my account, what I told you, but instead of a ghost I changed it to a man. I was so angry; I started crying and hung up. I actually feel sorry for the poor person on the other end of the phone.

  I was in a lot of pain inside too, it had penetrated deep, deep inside me. It was an agony that I had never experienced before. As I said I have not had anal sex before, it has never appealed to me. Even though Ian was a clumsy lover, he was young, he never hurt me on purpose. Then there was Leon, Leon was very passionate but gentle and loving.

  I know women i
n work who say they have anal sex when they’re on their period or when they have had a few beers but I never fancied it. What that thing did to me, it damaged and hurt me. I bled for about a week, going to the toilet left me in tears, I took so much Imodium to try and stop the pain. At night sleep hardly came at all, I was constantly on edge thinking it would come back and get me again. Tyler had an idea to keep the bedroom windows wide open so if it did happen maybe someone would hear my screaming and call the police.

  Tyler was smart though as after he said to keep the windows open he got me an alarm, like a rape alarm so if anything happened again I could press it and someone would hear and come rescue me. We lived at the end of a street with two old people adjoining our house but it was worth a try, even if it gave me some small comfort. I would sleep with my back pressed tight against the wall and obviously I was fully dressed in bed, stupid things like having belts and straps on me so my clothes wouldn’t come off easily and I would call for Tyler if I had to use the loo in the night. Whenever I had a shower, Tyler would sit on the landing just in case something happened. He is such a good son.

  When you think about it, what can you actually do? Lock the door? Install a burglar alarm? Get a Gun, a knife or a baseball bat? You can’t stop anything like that. It has a power that we can’t understand and if it chooses to violate you then it will, no matter where you are or who you are with.

  Tyler got a video camera and set in up in my old bedroom, he said if we could capture anything at all then maybe we could get help or move. I’m not sure how that would work but it seemed to keep him calm and occupied.

  Things were difficult between us for a while, I think what he saw affected him more than anybody could ever understand. I ask now, would you like to see your parent, no matter how old they are, in that position? How would you get that image of them, abused and maltreated, from your mind? How could you just sit there and have a cuppa or supper or chat about what was happening on the soaps after that? How can you act like nothing ever happened?

  One thing that did crop up in my mind, and was one of the few things to give me comfort, was whether something else intervened. Did something else, something different from the shitty man, come and save me. Tyler and I talked about it that week and he said it was as if two of these ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them were fighting over me. He said he had heard them arguing when he was younger. He thought that maybe there were two. One we knew as the Shitty man and the other he called the Cold sad man. He thought that the Cold sad man was the one that lingered in the house and sang the sad songs and played the music in the attic and that he roamed the house alone and miserable wanting attention.

  He told me about the day when he was little, he said he had seen the shitty man sat at the top of the stairs but Nan had told him not to mention it again. I started to think, was it Shitty man who put his fingers in me the first time? Or was it the cold man? There was no bad smell and no feeling of cold. Cold man, I was sure, was the one that assaulted me the first time, it was different; he was trying to please me, not hurt me. Although I know that wouldn’t make any difference, both were as wrong as each other in what they did to me. Some people out there might think I would rather the cold man try and have sex with me than the shitty man, but both felt as wrong as each other. But I can see where their thoughts are coming from, if I had to choose then I know which one is less disgusting.

  The passing of time does make life easier but you always have an edge, a feeling that you can never let your guard down. A year or two passed again and nothing happened. I began to believe that maybe the Cold man got rid of the shitty man once and for all. I did some research and looked into ghosts, spirits and demonology. Even if you think you know what it is or think you know the answers, there is still no deterrent is there?

  My research didn’t give me anything concrete to work with. I read about the case which the film The Entity was based on. Some said the film wasn’t based on a true story at all but I still read a book where the scientists claimed to have captured strange ghost lights hovering around her. If it was true then I felt for the woman and her family but it’s not a ‘my cats blacker than your cat’, competition. I felt I had experienced far worse with the shitty man’s attack and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what happened to me was real. Tyler witnessed it too. There was someone else as well but we will get to that in a minute.

  I did some research and looked into the house and the land it was built on and there was nothing to be concerned about. There was nothing obvious like a graveyard or a prison, you know, somewhere where bad things happened. There had only been fields and woodlands as far as I could tell. I hoped to find some clue, but there was nothing to hook onto. I hope that you can find something out during your investigation.

  I got on with Life. I just had too. Tyler was fine, work was fine and Life got easier, I even went out with some friends one Saturday. Whenever I went out for a few drinks I would always stay at a friend’s. I never wanted to be vulnerable in the house again. Tyler was still living at home at the time, I think, but he was spending more and more time with a girl he was seeing. I got on with my life, nothing seemed to be happening but I was taking no chances. You start to make connections in your head, almost like a superstition. You think well, it was a Friday night… I was drunk… I did this and I did that, so you try and avoid those situations at all cost and pray it doesn’t happen again.

  Anyway, I was out one night in Haverfordwest and we were at a club, I felt a little old as everyone was much younger than us lot. This guy came up and he was dancing around us and trying it on with my friend, flirting, trying to get her to dance with him, you know? I have to say, his dancing was the worst I have ever seen in my life, at one stage he was doing the running man, and somehow managed to knock over a girl walking past who was carrying about three pints, then he tried to spin around on his back like a dying turtle. It was hilarious! Then this youngish tall guy walks over and says to me “That’s Kev, he thinks he’s MC Hammer when he’s had a few drinks. I can’t dance at all, thankfully, but I can buy you a drink?” This guy seemed really charming and introduced himself as Dan. He was such a nice guy, he seemed genuinely interested in me and wasn’t a letch like some of the guys you see out. I was troubled as to why he liked me, my confidence was low by this point in my life and I worried why he chose to talk to me all night but I just enjoyed his company so much. He only had eyes for me and didn’t wander off to talk to other girls or check his phone every five seconds. I was worried he might be married, there’s nothing worse than liking a guy and it turns out he’s taken his ring off for the night.

  He took me home that night and was such a gentleman, he didn’t try it on or take advantage and he was so complimentary to me. We sat on his settee talking, smoking and listened to music. It was lovely and the next thing the sun was up and the birds were singing outside. I was at least ten years older than him, he was a good looking lad and he treated me so well. He asked if I fancied a drive and maybe breakfast. It was a great day and I forgot about everything that had happened with the house and the assaults.

  I felt wanted and safe again but I wasn’t going to push my luck, I didn’t want to appear needy. Being with him felt too good to be true but that evening, I let go of my worries and fears and we had sex. I’ll admit I was weary of sex; I was worried he would be rough and demanding but he was sensual and caring. There were times when I would have a flashback of the nights I was abused and start to feel anxious but he didn’t ask anything of me, he was gentle and I relaxed and enjoyed it. He gave me his full attention and as I lay in bed, wrapped up in arms, satisfied, I felt a warmth and compassion that I had not felt in such a long time.

  Dan was a good man; he had a good job and worked hard. He made an effort with Tyler despite only being five years older than him and Tyler did get on with him too. He never gave me any concerns or reasons to doubt him. I trusted him. He was funny and generous and couldn’t do enough for me. We would have the o
dd row but cooler heads would prevail and he was always there for me with a hug and smile. He was… I mean, He is a good man.

  We were together for quite some time and it was good, really good. He loved me, he showed it to me in every conceivable way but what I did…I mean, what we did…is unforgivable. I can’t blame him for the way he feels, I don’t blame him for hating me and no one, and I mean no one, can ever understand what happened to him. I can’t even begin to imagine the hurt he feels. I’m a terrible person, a slut, slag, whatever you want to call me for what I did to him. I cheated on a good man; I cheated on a man who cared for me no matter what…I cheated on him with a Ghost.

  Dan

  I have to admit, from the words used by Lisa, that Dan would not be a willing subject for an interview to shed further light on this investigation. Lisa spoke about him with a shameful and remorseful tone; she felt her alleged treachery had hurt him in a profound manner, she truly broke the man’s heart. Her words were marinated in the melancholic words of a doomed romance.

  I telephoned a number given to me by Lisa, a polite and softly spoken man answered. I cautiously introduced myself to him. He seemed reserved and hesitant but was not rude to me. He asked who had given me his number and I dutifully told him the truth. To deliberately conceal my intentions from this man would be a terrible mistake. I had to be open and genuine with him regarding my motives. Transparency would gain the opportunity to find out more of this case from an outsider, someone from out of Lisa’s inner circle that no longer had any ties or allegiances to the family