After a call for help I rang the client back at her home, a polite lady answered the phone. Before we began to discuss the situation, the client asked if we could talk outside of the premise’s as she felt talking about it stirred it up. Safely outside she mentioned the worse of the activity took place in the living room. “I get scratched and pushed,” she said “pushed, did I say more like punched. The atmosphere in the house at times is toxic like walking into a room full of fog, thick fog. Sometimes it feels a struggle to walk through like someone or something is pushing me back.” When moving into the apartment the client found hidden under the floorboards, passports and credit cards, and had handed them into the police. She lived on her own in an apartment, the building was once a factory although now converted into dwellings. At this point I concluded the call.
Over a cup of tea at home I decided I would take this case, and tea drank I settled down to do a view of the problem.
I found my awareness in a bathroom, I could hear water and there was a wet sensation to the scene, I could taste salt and a strong taste of blood there was a perfume smell that made me feel sick. I was aware there was something close by but could see nothing. I rested before starting again. Two loud thumps sounded, I ducked down as I sensed an arm, I thought it was going to hit me but instead it began clawing at a wall. Blood was dripping into pools on the floor someone was hurt, next water splashing. I could sense the danger and could hear laughing, two people talking off in the distance. I was confused and once more needed to rest.
Back into the view once more, now I could hear screaming, shouting someone was angry. There was laughter coming from another, goading making the whole situation far worse. I than saw her a woman in wet clothes shouting for something to be given back to her. Whatever was happening in this bathroom it left an imprint on it.
The scene changes now and I see the young woman in wet clothes standing in the living room with a door behind her perhaps leading to a bedroom. She has blood on her from a cut on her shoulder. Deeper in the room stand a man and a woman laughing they have something belonging to the woman who is wet. I sensed he had hit her because of something he wanted doing and she did not obey him, so he took something from her. I felt from the lone female that she wanted to kill them, stop them from doing whatever it was. I was just about to conclude the session for the day when over in the corner I saw a black mass. The dark mass moved across the wall something bad had happened in this space.
The whole feeling of this session had changed the energy shifted first high than low, I felt pushed back and forth like there was two different claims on the area, a different dimension occupying the same space. I have felt this before vibrating on a different energy level and normally would pull out of the view. I continued and seemed enveloped in a good and bad energy that I knew would pass between the apartments. I left it here.
The following day I preceded with the view and found myself standing in a hallway outside an apartment door. I hear scratching and smell the sickening smell of death. Passing through into the apartment the smell became stronger. Something fast shot by me and I had unaware shifted my attention back to the original apartment.
The energy caused by the people I saw in the apartment had at that time created a mass so dark that the evil exuded from it. I somehow had nudged it from the neighbouring apartment back to the original one. One thing now I was sure of it was able to move through the building.
Bringing the story together was easy, the area around the building was a favourite haunt for prostitutes, the man her pimp who took something from her which I suspect was the money she had earnt. The trauma of this young woman who was beaten and humiliated by the man had bought about the dark mass which I later removed. The dimensional shifts of feeling two dimensions were easily explained in the end. Before becoming apartments back in the days of Queen Victoria the building was a hat factory and that dimension from that age slipped over the real time one creating a strange atmosphere.
The earlier tenant was a nasty character and forever in trouble with the police. The passports and cards that were handed in at the police station may have been stolen or forged. The nasty tenant could be the pimp from my view.
The last time I spoke with the client things were lovely in the apartment it felt lighter and happier, just discovering the reason for the upset was enough to stop the happenings in this case. But going forward the client needs to learn how to protect herself from any paranormal activity.
Irene Allen-Block
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