Chapter 2: Enter Elaine

Elaine Talks:

My mother and Father's marriage was a very shaky one. My Father was a drunkard who believed that he was God's gift to women. He mistreated my mother very badly. When I was born he stood at the foot of her bed and told her that he wished I was dead over and over, until she finally threw a vase at him.

My birth was like any other birth, like hundreds born on that same day all over the world, except that I was born deformed. I had no nose, no upper lip, no roof in my mouth.

This is what is called a severe hair-lip with a cleft-palate. My mother wanted to see me right away as soon as I was born, and to her I was a beautiful baby, even with the deformities. Her first question was, "Can she be fixed?"

She was in absolute poverty. She had no money and no way of making any. In those days the welfare programs were not available as they are today, but my mother was not the type to give up just because she was poor.

It so happened that in that same hospital there was a nurse called Helen. She had assisted at my birth. Helen knew my mother's circumstances and also of my Father's attitude of hatred. Helen wasn't just an ordinary nurse, she was also a powerful witch and a member of what has become one of the most powerful but little known cults in our countiy today. This cult calls themselves The Brotherhood and is a satan-worshiping cult. Helen was, at that time, what is known within the cult as a "contact person." Her contact with my mother was to affect the rest of my entire life, as well as the life of Rebecca.

The day following my birth Helen approached my mother with a proposition. If my mother would give Helen permission to take a very small amount of my blood, she and her "friends" would provide a way to get finances and the help she needed to obtain the best surgical and medical care for me that was available. My mother could not understand just why Helen would do all this in return for seemingly so small a thing. She could never seem to grasp the meaning of what Helen explained to her. But, as there seemed to be no other source of the desperately needed help, and as Helen repeatedly reassured her that she would not harm me, my mother finally agreed to the proposition. Helen was an attractive young lady who seemed genuinely concerned and sincere in her desire to help both me and my mother.

What Helen did not explain to my mother was that my blood was, for her, a very important "sale." The small container of blood taken from me was given to another woman called Grace.

Grace was also in the satanist cult. She was what is known as a high priestess. The selling of my blood was to give Grace more power, more activity and a higher position within the cult. Helen, too, obtained more power through this transaction.

The blood was taken by Helen and given to Grace. Grace then drank my blood during a ceremony which gave both Grace and satan possession of me, and opened me up as a home for many demons from that moment on. Grace, at satan's direction, sent many specific spirits into me which would mold and shape my life and personality and future. My mother was not a Christian, neither did she know that what she did would make me a marked person, carefully watched by the satanists, and would, later in my life, result in my own involvement in the cult. Had she known that, my mother never would have said, "O.K., you can have a little of her blood." Later on in my life as a member of the cult myself, I was to witness a number of such sales and always my heart grieved as I thought about the consequences in the baby's future life. satan now had a prized possession. A new born baby where demons and spirits could have a home and could grow and become very powerful and agile in my life. As I became more and more aware of myself, even in my younger days, I knew something different and special was going on within me, but didn't know what it was.

Four days after my birth, my mother was approached and told that she could take me to a children's hospital at a nearby large medical center. There I would have a number of surgeries. Very many. As a matter of fact, it took sixteen years of plastic surgery to build a face for me. I also had to have long hours of speech and hearing therapy, dental work, everything. This was the beginning of many years of pain, loneliness, and rejection. Pain, because plastic surgery burns with agonizing pain during the days of healing after a surgery.

Loneliness, because I was not like the other children. Rejection, because of their reaction to my disfigurement. I had very few friends. I became very rough, a fighter. I learned to fight and fight very well in order to be able to stand up for myself. I had so many interruptions of my schooling because of the surgeries that it was difficult for me to maintain the few friendships I did from.

The children at school seemed to enjoy prodding me and poking me and pushing me and making fun of me until I could hardly stand it anymore. We moved from school to school so that I never went to the same school two years in a row. My parents thought it would help if I never had to face the same group of school children a second year. But, I did face the same children again and again.

Every school was the same, the reactions were the same. Nothing changed, year after agonizing year.

My mother remarried shortly after my birth.

My parents didn't go to church. They didn't deny me the right to go, but they did not go.

They were "waiting on each other." And, like most people, if you wait on someone long enough, you've waited too long if you don't take the first step yourself.

I finally did join a youth group at a church. It was quite an active group in a Pentacostal Church. I was sixteen years old by then and was accepted by the church youth group because I could sing, and play the guitar and drums. I had many talents in the musical field as well as the art field. It was a rather happy time for me for a short while.

As I grew up I found that I had unexplainable powers and I didn't know what to do with them, or what they were, or where they came from. Some people told me I had special "gifts." I have an aunt who is deep into witchcraft and spiritism. She used to have all of us kids over to show us occult "games." I always had far superior abilities with the ouiji board, tarot cards, etc. As I reached my teens I realized that I had a fast growing ability to influence others, to make them do as I wanted.

Young Elaine exploring occult games and dangerous powers.

I had unusual physical strength as well.

I remember that in my first year of high school I was approached by a lesbian girl who tried to pull some of her tricks on me after gym class one day. I went into an uncontrol lable rage and nearly drowned her in a toilet.

She was much bigger than I, but I would have killed her had not several adults intervened.

I remained in the same school throughout high school. The kids there made fun of me too. The worst thing in the world at that age is to have your own peers abuse you and make fun of you.

I reached the point where I couldn't cope with it anymore. When I was in the 12th grade, I was walking down the hall one day when the leading player of the football team called out, "Look at the ugly hair-lip." I remember dropping my books and running towards him.

The next thing I remember is five teachers pulling me off of him. I had nearly beaten him to death. I had broken his nose, jaw and a number of the bones in his face. I had unnatural strength. That boy weighed close to two hundred pounds and I only weighed nintyeight pounds at the time. I didn't have a single bruise from the fight, not even on my fists.

Elaine's unnatural strength manifested in a confrontation.

This power seemed ominous to me and yet I enjoyed it. It was the only way I could get a little peace. No one could push me around. I look back on it with heart break now, but at the time it seemed worth it just to have a little peace. But all peace, I was soon to find out, was going to be obliterated by a lie from satan that I would regret for a long, long time and still do. I'm thankful that Jesus loved me all that time, although I did not realize it then. I loved the power that I had. I didn't know where it was coming from, but I wanted to find out how to get more of it. That is when I met a friend named Sandy in my youth group at church. She also attended the same high school as I. Sandy was seventeen and so was I. Sandy was a "recruiter" for the satanist cult and led me into the next step in satan's plan for my life.