Some devilry or otherworldly crooks
One summer, let's say, I “chased the devils” together with a Rostovite Sergei Vasilenko, a mentor of a small amateur School of Bioenergetics and Extrasensory perception. I'll tell you about how Sergey and I tried to work in tandem and what came of it.
Larisa P., a 30-year-old friend of Sergei, turned to me for advice and help. Here's what she said:
- On April 27 this year, I walked with my 6-year-old son in the city park. Sitting on a bench, I heard a clear male voice. It sounded not from somewhere else, but directly in my head. The voice said clearly and loudly, “You can hear me, can you? Now I will talk to you."
Screeching with fright, I jumped up from the bench and … heard nothing else. The invisible interlocutor, who promised to "talk now" with me, did not keep, to my great relief, his promise. He fell silent. But alas, not forever. In the evening of the same day, the voice declared itself again. It was about ten o'clock. I was lying on the couch, reading a book, when I suddenly heard him. “Lie still and don't rock the boat! the voice ordered. - I'll take care of you now. But don't tell anyone that you are communicating with me. Clear?!" In response to this terrible promise to “take care of me,” such a powerful wave of wild fear swept through my entire body that my breath stopped, and the next moment I lost consciousness. From that time everything started, - Larisa continued her story. - At least twice a week and, as usual, in the evenings, a man's voice began to echo in my unhappy brains. I definitely can't remember anything that he was talking about.
As soon as I heard a voice, I found myself in a strange semi-delirious state. He mumbled something and mumbled, and I listened to this indistinct coiling like through cotton wool. I clearly remembered only one of his orders: "Stop drinking coffee." With horror, I began to feel how every day my strength decreases, and my state of health is getting worse and worse. Slowly but surely, I began to turn into a seriously ill person. The feeling of fear dominated my mind all the time. I tried to take pills, went to the doctors - all in vain … And somehow I vaguely saw the one to whom, probably, that voice belonged. On a chair next to the dining table, the translucent silhouette of a man suddenly condensed out of nothing. The ghost rose from the chair and walked around the table. The sight was, I assure you, the most terrible! The next day, a second voice began to sound in my head! And also male.
To this day, those voices - from now on, almost constantly hear something unintelligible in my poor brains, argue, it seems to me, with each other, even, probably, swear, scandal. The meaning of their conversation does not reach me. Meaningful phrases are heard only occasionally, and every time they are threats against me. The last time such phrases were heard yesterday evening. Interrupting each other, the voices began to threaten me, intimidate me with some kind of punishment. They began to demand that I not go to today's meeting with you, they said: “We do not need this meeting. You go - it will be worse! We will twist you into a ram's horn! But I was tired of the invisible talkers to the point of heartburn, who settled in my head and deprived me of my health. I'm tired of shaking from morning to night from fear of them. And so I came. Despite all their telepathic threats and inhibitions.
“It’s right that we came,” I said, after listening to Larissa. - I believe that an otherworldly crook interacts with you, drinking juices that give him life-giving juice straight from your body. That is why you become weak and sick …
Promotional video:
Like many other psychics, Sergei Vasilenko assured that certain "light forces" help him in the treatment sessions conducted by him by the method of non-contact influence on patients.
And these "forces" come to the people they have chosen for contacts (in this case: to the psychic), only with goodness. Unlike the "dark" ones, they will never harm either psychics or their patients. On the contrary, they extend their invisible friendly helping hand to them.
I sat Larisa face to face with Vasilenko. Then he asked Sergei to begin a session of non-contact influence on this emaciated woman with a haunted look and an ashen-pale face. The psychic's hands flew up and, turning their palms to Larisa, began to move in the air, making passes.
A minute passed. Sergei chuckled and raised his left eyebrow in bewilderment:
“Really, some kind of devilry,” he said, not taking his strained gaze from the woman’s face. - It feels like there is an impenetrable screen around this lady. I just can't break through it.
These words were not entirely unexpected for me. Sergey was by no means the first sensitive person to tell me about such a screen.
“Keep working, Seryozha,” I advised, and without hurrying I took a plump notebook in a dark leatherette binding from the inner pocket of my jacket.
“But the screen is impenetrable,” repeated Vasilenko with annoyance in his voice. Meanwhile, his hands, as before, fluttered in the air, making passes, living, as it were, an independent life.
- Impenetrable, you say? How to say … Now we will try to dig a hole in it.
With these words, I opened my notebook and rustled its pages in search of the one I needed.
This cherished notebook served as a faithful lifesaver for me. On its pages were brought together all known to me church statutory "prayers for scolding evil spirits", monastery secret "whispering" and common people "conspiracies to exorcise demons." Take their word for it, finding them all and bringing them together into a single information row, dividing them into groups according to some common characteristics, was not an easy task. It took years and years to find …
I found the necessary page and, holding the notebook in my left hand, crossed myself with my right three times, after Sergei Vasilenko, and then Larissa. And loudly he began to read aloud the monastic "whispering" in Church Slavonic.
When calling for help, one must force oneself to believe that help will come.
That's the whole point! Calling for help to heaven, you must certainly force yourself to believe that help from above will be provided. There is something of self-hypnosis in this categorical, categorical "must force oneself". If you can't get it, then the "lecture" and "whispering" will not work. They remain collections of smart-sounding but useless words that are wasted from the lips.
To step over the transcendental barrier of the sacramental “you need to force yourself” is not so easy, by the way, as it might seem to someone who has never stepped over it.
The consciousness of the step over must enter a special, specific state. Shamans call it kamlanie, yogis call it meditation, occultists call it trance, psychiatrists call it self-hypnosis. And militant atheists consider this state a form of religious psychosis, and send, shout, here as soon as possible hefty orderlies, it is urgently necessary to isolate this muttering psychopath from society.
Vasilenko continued to make passes with his hands, and I muttered "whispering."
Larisa quietly said:
- The voices in my head are now starting to swear very hard.
Sergei's hands continued to flutter in the air.
Suddenly Sergey said:
- The screen disappeared. It did not burst, did not crack, but disappeared in an instant. Has disappeared completely and completely. Streams of energy from my hands flow into the patient's aura.
- I felt it, - said Larissa almost immediately. - A strange feeling. I've never experienced anything like it before.
- There, inside the aura, - Sergey continued his comment, - there is a certain stirring. Even seething. There is something rushing about. Yes, it rushes about like … spiders in a glass jar. This "something" begins to fade, disappear, fade. It melts, melts, melts … Gone.
The psychic's hands fell down. Relaxingly wiggling his fingers, kneading them on his own hips, Sergei gave me a sharp look, frowning with fatigue and bewildered.
- Listen, how did you do it? he asked curiously.
- What exactly?
- Take off the screen. How did you do that?
- Me? … Honestly, I have nothing to do with it, or almost nothing. I personally did not see or feel any screen. The fact that he is there was publicly announced by you, a psychic. Well, my modest participation in our "persecution of demons" came down to the fact that I sincerely asked God for help. That's all … By the way, how do you feel, honey?
Larisa sweetly stretched her whole body and, crossing her arms over her chest, clasped her shoulders with her palms. For the first time since I met her, I saw a faint semblance of a smile on her pale, sunken face.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
- So everything is all right?
A slight yes nod of my head was my answer.
- What do you feel now?
- I listen to the silence in the brain. What a blessing that she came there again.
… Two weeks passed, and I again met with Larisa. The changes that have taken place over these days in her appearance were striking. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, a blush appeared on the cheeks, and a healthy shine appeared in the eyes. The young woman visibly recovered, her arms and shoulders, barely covered by a summer dress, were rounded, her back straightened. In general, she was at the time of our second meeting charming in every sense, including from a sexual point of view.
When it dawned on me with some delay that I was shamelessly looking at Larissa through the eyes of a man, not a researcher, I grinned and realized: the woman had completely recovered.
Larissa correctly assessed my probing glance. And also grinned.
- Yes, you are prettier, - I stated in a glassy voice, sternly knitting my eyebrows. - How is your mental health?
- Silence is in the head. Blessed and absolute.
A. Priyma