Rosemary Shane is a beautiful woman, and it is time for John Whitney, her fiancé and the oldest son in a content Christian family, to bring her home to meet everyone. As she sits down to dinner, no one knows that encased within her are demons far worse than any storied horror. Rosemary is a psychic vampire.

The Psychic Vampire

By Thomas E. Berry

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Dr. Thomas E. Berry
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-2898-6

Contents

Chapter 1 the Cemetery..........................1Chapter 2 the Meeting...........................29Chapter 3 the outing............................50Chapter 4 the Conclusion........................71Chapter 5 the Wedding...........................92Chapter 6 the Miracle...........................116Chapter 7 Finita la Comedia.....................131

Chapter One

The Cemetery

Last night I overcame my fear and visited her grave. I admit that I entered the cemetery with trepidation and walked among the dark, ancient oak trees with anxiety. As I moved toward the family plot, it seemed that the gnarled and twisted limbs in the darkness above were bending down menacingly toward me. Yet I knew that I must assure myself that she could no longer harm me. As I approached the great stone monuments that declared the past glories of others, moonlight made ghastly shadows around me through the boughs of the trees. I shuddered.

Then suddenly I was standing before her grave. She did not come out of her tomb and grab my leg as I had envisioned. That sort of vampire is in ghost stories and literature. When she was alive, she never had teeth that would sink into her victim's neck as did the legendary fiends so named. No, she was a beautiful woman capable of far worse torture than the spilling of blood, and her venom still exudes from the depths of her hell. Even from her coffin the vengeful acts she perpetrated while alive continue to extend misery to those who tried to love her. Encased within her were demons far worse than any storied horror. She was not nourished by human blood but survived on human minds. She was a psychic vampire.

It was the power of her eyes that did it. One piercing look from those large, dark, beckoning eyes caused an inner fear to instantly seize a person and cause them to submit to her power. Her long, lustrous brunette hair heightened her perfect facial features, yet her beauty was deceiving. Anyone who met her for the first time could easily say that she was one of the sweetest, kindest, and loveliest mortals they had ever encountered. And she could be. How easily her smile captivated, and how kindly she could express herself. If she wanted, she could win over the heart of anyone. It was, as she would say, "the Jesus way" that propelled her.

No one has ever used the holy name of Christ more cleverly and more intentionally. She claimed that He was with her all the time. He was her companion, her beloved, her savior. Using His name, she entrapped her victims. I could not understand why a God would allow such a creature to so misuse His power, but she ruled in her world of hatred and envy by hiding behind the beauty and solace of eternal wisdom: Peace on earth, good will to men!

I remember very well when she came into my life. The spring semester at Lake Forest College had just ended, and I had driven home in my canary-yellow convertible. I parked by the rose garden of our home near Lake Michigan. Near our house, my mother was sitting with slep, our collie, in a gazebo surrounded by redbud trees. I waved and walked over to her.

After patting the family pet, I kissed my mother; but when she thanked me, I sensed a tenseness in her voice. She was excited because my older brother John was bringing his girlfriend to meet our family. I knew this was a special event for her, because we knew how badly she wanted her oldest son to settle down. He had left college during his first year in order to join the Us Army. He wanted adventure.

After he returned from two years in Iraq, he seemed restless, as if he did not know what to do with himself. He drank beer with former high school football buddies, and he worked continually on his car, but he lounged before the tV for long hours. He had spent his time in the military as a sergeant overseeing military supplies in a warehouse. Mother assumed that he missed being so active. Now he was involved with a girlfriend, and that could mean marriage. My mother's hopes were at last being fulfilled. I was happy for her.

"Tom, dear," she said to me as we walked through the garden to the sunroom entrance of our home, "would you do me a favor this evening?"

"Of course, Mother," I replied, holding her hand.

"Please don't talk about religion during dinner. I know how you love to upset me with your irreligious banter, but don't tease me this evening. Will you?"

"Of course," I responded, stopping to hug her. "You know I'd do anything to make you happy."

She thanked me.

"I take it that she's a religious type?"

"I don't know for sure, but John sort of asked that we not talk about our church this evening."

I laughed as we walked across the patio to the sunroom. "Well, I'll try to behave, but if she's going to cram Jesus down my throat, I might say something."

Mother halted as she put a lock of her graying hair back into the bun behind her head. "tom, you hurt me when you mention Christ so nonchalantly. Why do you taunt me that way?"

I opened one of the French doors to the sunroom and said, "Oh, Mother, dear, let's not get off on that old argument now. Let's be happy."

Mother smiled. "Yes, I am happy, but I do have a dilemma."

As we sat down on a wicker couch near the many-paned windows of the sunroom, I petted slep again and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, my oldest son seems to be settling down," she commented as she smoothed a wrinkle from her silk paisley skirt, "while my middle son is drifting away!"

"Where am I drifting?" I asked.

Mother smiled. "oh, let's not start. We'll talk about you another time. In a few minutes, I've got things to do in the kitchen. I want to just sit a moment and enjoy this lovely spring day. You can help by starting the fire in the family room."

And so, preparations for the great occasion took our thoughts away from her so-called dilemma. As I cleaned the ashes out of our large brick fireplace, I thought of Mother and how happy she would be if her oldest son finally settled down. She would undoubtedly be very generous in helping the young couple with finances, because she had the thought of a grandchild constantly on her mind. I also wondered what kind of girl had been able to slow down my brother long enough for serious dating. He was always "on the go" and terribly popular. When he was in high school, there were often enough of his friends to have two basketball teams playing on the court on our back lawn. Guys were drawn to John because he was easygoing and dependable, and he loved sports. I could hardly believe that he was actually ready for a steady girlfriend. Yet he was bringing home someone that he wanted the family to meet. That sounded rather serious, so I looked forward to meeting her; but I was not prepared for the occasion.

When my younger brother Jim, a robust, curly-haired sportsman, came in from grade school, he was accompanied by several friends. They were planning a short swim in our pool; but Mother went out and told them that a special event was taking place that afternoon, and she would rather they swim the next day. Jim was not happy with the situation, but his friends agreed immediately and left.

"Jim," Mother called when he started up the stairs to his room. "Just a minute! I'm sorry about the swim, but you forgot that John is bringing his girlfriend home today. We want to make a very good impression."

"Well, I could wave at...