Tonight the Darkness Spoke

Today, I’m taking you down a path that’s not for the faint of heart. You’ve been warned—this shit’s going to get dark, real quick. If you’re here for some light and fluffy content, close the tab now. But if you’re craving something that’ll make your skin crawl and keep you up tonight, you’ve come to the right place.

It was just a regular night. I’d finished up a few readings—nothing too wild. You know, the usual. People wanting to connect with lost loved ones, needing guidance on life decisions, or just curious about what the fuck is out there in the ether. Typical Wednesday for me, really. Anthony was already in bed, and the dogs were curled up, scattered around the house like little furry sentinels.

But something felt off.

You know when you can just feel something lurking? Like there’s this energy hanging in the air, thick and cold, creeping into your bones? That’s what I was getting. I brushed it off at first—chalked it up to exhaustion. I’d been going hard all week, burning the candle at both ends, and thought maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t fucking around.

I was in my office, just wrapping up some notes on a session I’d had earlier. A client came through wanting to talk to their late husband. Simple enough, right? Except this guy didn’t want to talk. He wanted to scream. The moment I connected, I felt this wave of rage and pain hit me like a goddamn freight train. I’m used to dealing with all kinds of emotions, but this was on a different level. It took everything in me to stay grounded, to not let this spirit take control.

After the session, I felt drained—like this dude had sucked all the energy right out of me. But that’s the job, you know? It’s what I signed up for. I shrugged it off and moved on. Until tonight.

As I was sitting there, finishing my notes, the room got cold. Not the normal chill that comes with spirit activity—this was like someone had opened a door to the fucking Arctic. I could see my breath in front of me, that’s how cold it got. And then I heard it.

Whispers. Low, guttural, like they were coming from deep within the walls. At first, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was just this maddening, incessant murmur, like a conversation happening just out of earshot. But as I focused, the words started to become clearer.

“Help us… He’s coming… Run…”

I’m not the kind of guy who scares easily. I’ve been through enough shit in my life to know when to stand my ground and when to run. But this? This was something else. It was as if the shadows in the room were alive, slithering along the walls, reaching out towards me. And the whispers—they kept getting louder, more frantic.

I stood up, trying to shake it off, telling myself it was just residual energy from the earlier session. Maybe I hadn’t fully closed the connection, maybe this spirit was trying to latch onto me. I started the ritual to cleanse the space, to banish whatever the hell was in my office.

But as I began, the whispers turned into screams. Bloodcurdling, bone-chilling screams that echoed through the house. My dogs, normally so calm, started barking like mad, their hackles raised, teeth bared at something I couldn’t see.

And then I saw it.

In the corner of the room, just beyond the reach of the light, there was a figure. Tall, dark, and twisted, like a shadow come to life. Its eyes—if you could even call them that—were nothing but hollow voids, empty and endless. And it was staring right at me.

I froze. My instincts screamed at me to move, to run, to get the fuck out of there. But I couldn’t. It was like this thing had a grip on me, like it was pulling me in, suffocating me with its presence.

The screams got louder, more desperate. “Help us… He’s here… He’s going to take us…”

That’s when I realized—the figure wasn’t just a shadow. It was the spirit I’d connected with earlier, twisted and corrupted by whatever dark force had claimed him. And now it was coming for me.

I gathered every ounce of strength I had left, every bit of energy I could muster, and pushed back. I recited the banishing ritual with everything in me, commanding this dark entity to leave, to return to the void from which it came.

For a moment, nothing happened. The shadow just stood there, looming, its presence pressing down on me like a vice. But then, slowly, it began to dissolve, like smoke being blown away by the wind. The screams faded, the cold lifted, and the room returned to normal.

But the fear? That shit stuck around.

I’m not ashamed to admit it—I didn’t sleep a damn wink that night. I stayed up, watching the shadows, waiting for something to move, to return. But it never did. Whatever it was, I sent it back to wherever the hell it came from. But that doesn’t mean it’s gone for good.

There’s a lot out there in the darkness, things most people don’t even want to think about, let alone face. But that’s my reality. And sometimes, it gets a little too real.

So what’s the moral here? Simple: Don’t fuck with what you don’t understand. The world is full of things we can’t see, can’t comprehend, but they’re out there, waiting. And when you come face to face with them, you better be damn sure you’re ready.

Until next time—stay safe, stay aware, and don’t let the shadows catch you.

Demetri Welsh, signing off.

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