So My Demonology Degree is Useless, Huh?
An academic, a psychic and Zheltuchmuckzue walk into a downtown condo.
The following report is from the personal files of the paranormal investigator and academic DAVE DELANEY working with the clairvoyant SANDRA CROMWELL.
THIS IS A TRUE STORY.
Executive Summary
Ha! See mom, see dad! You said the four years I spent getting a Demonology B.A. at Ryerson was a waste of time. A useless degree from a wannabe university. Well now I have undeniable proof demonic entities exist and walk among us. Who’s massively disappointed and crying now? The answer is you, still.
Rather than wasting my time apprenticing with Uncle Bobby like you begged me to, I’ve been setting up my business with Sandra Cromwell. Sandra is an accredited clairvoyant from the Royal London Association of Accredited Psychics, Mesmers & Gypsy Fortune Tellers. She’s one of the few in the association currently not on government assistance.
We received a call from one Constance Jumbo (née Mumbo) regarding the demonic possession of her husband Clive Jumbo. This report will demonstrate Clive became possessed by the Mesogermanic demon known as Zheltuchmuckzue, or Mucky for short.
Details of the Investigation
Prior to our investigation, Constance Jumbo reported hearing voices, or rather a single voice, emanating from various places within their downtown Toronto condo. She heard the voice from the bedroom walls, the den, the microwave and the refrigerator freezer. This voice was most active between the hours of 11 pm and 3 am. On occasion the voice would wake them up at 6 am, which Constance said was fine as her husband needed to get up for work at that time anyway.
Constance and Clive knocked on the neighbouring condo units to find out who the hell was talking. No one answered their doors. During our investigation, we confirmed with Mr. Philip Rogers, the security guard working the concierge desk, that no one else besides the Jumbo’s occupied the 11th floor. All other suites belonged to Russian oligarch sex criminals or Chinese tech slavers. Did you read that, mom and dad? Overseas billionaires and massive corporations own all the condos and drive up the prices here. That’s why I can’t afford a house and why I live with three roommates. This isn’t the 1960s, pie doesn’t cost a nickel anymore!
Clive became ill soon after they began hearing the voice. By the time Constance called my office (yeah! I have an office), Clive started slipping in and out of a catatonic state. He was ice cold to the touch, though complained he was hot. His eyes clouded over, but he said he saw things more clearly than ever before. He complained of a sore throat but continually spoke in tongues and would list long strings of numbers. It was as though he was speaking some esoteric incantation. My elective was Incantations and I can assure you they do not involve numbers. A lot of Latin and dead cats but no numbers.
My research discovered that The Sandy Bum Lakeside Condominium where the Jumbos live was built on an Aboriginal burial ground. We quickly discounted that as those kinds of curses would only affect the first-floor suites, the lobby and maybe the parking garage. Sandra sensed that this was not the work of a single entity. A more ancient and timeless evil was occupying the thin drywalls of this place.
During our walkthrough of the condo, Clive began speaking in tongues. I started writing down what he said. I recorded the following: 993.454.238.992.251.005.339. I asked Constance if these numbers appeared familiar to her. She didn’t know what they could be. I tried deciphering them to see if they corresponded to an alphabet, a coordinate or a constellation. They did not.
Sandra prepared to commune with Clive and whatever entity was within him. I set up a camera and a tape recorder to capture the event. Sandra reported speaking to the entity known as Zheltuchmuckzue (Mucky). Her consciousness peered into the alternate dimensions where these beings exist. She faced the entity and asked it what it’s intentions were, and why was he destroying this innocent soul. It said it was summoned to complete a task. The summoner promised it a soul in exchange, but Mucky demanded two. (Apparently, inflation affects Hell dimensions just like any other place. You see, mom, even if I was in Hell I’d need roommates.)
This is what Sandra reported to me. All I saw and all the cameras picked up were the flickering lights, looks of frustration on their faces and the rattling pictures on the wall.
On the far wall facing the bed, Clive’s ‘Manager of the Year’ award fell to the floor. There was a strange black discolouration on the wall behind it. I asked Constance if she had ever seen that before. She hadn’t. I touched the wall and it was soft, like cork. I began pushing on the spot and pieces started falling away. In no time the entire spot had crumbled to reveal a totem. Behind the totem, I could see inside the empty suite next door. I shone my flashlight through the hole and could see melted candles and No Name chip bags on the floor.
I carefully removed the totem and brought it into the dining room. It was expertly constructed but made of crude materials. A totem to summon an entity such as Mucky required sacrificial lamb blood, whole and powdered bone broth, wood from a defiled holy shrine, and a personal object from the individual who was to be possessed. This totem was constructed from an infant lamb skull, the eyes still intact, and propped up upon a piece of wood. Wired to the wood there were two bones formed in the shape of a cross. The bones appeared to be lamb shanks. The bones were not intact, they had been cut on a bandsaw. I could tell the meat had been clumsily removed from the shanks as hunks of grey-purple flesh remained. The shanks were likely purchased from a butcher for consumption and then used for this profane ritual. There was a ziplock bag of blood and Clive’s Loblaws ID card resting on a white dinner plate at the bottom of the totem.
Constance confirmed her husband mentioned losing the ID roughly a week prior to hearing voices in their apartment. The individual who performed this ritual must have stolen it from Clive’s office.
As I examined the totem further I heard a struggle in the bedroom. Sandra was thrown to the floor. Clive, his eyes clouded over and his face beat red, burst through the bedroom door and tackled me. He grabbed the ID card out of my hands and left the apartment. I got back on my feet and pursued. The elevator doors closed before I could reach him. I proceeded down the stairs, through the cursed lobby and onto the street. Once I got outside I couldn’t see where he went. I received a call from Sandra. She was on the balcony and saw him run down the street toward the nearby Loblaws. I took a chance and headed over there.
I asked a Loblaws employee if she’d seen the manager Mr. Jumbo come into work. She did and directed me to his office in the back. As I walked down the Coffee aisle I overheard a customer remark that the price of whole coffee beans had just dropped to $3.45. I waited and observed the small electronic price tags near me. A box of 30 Tim Hortons coffee pods changed from $24.99 to $8.99. More people began noticing these price drops. Shoppers began filling their carts with as many products as they could get their hands on. Security guards were trying to keep order but there were too many customers.
I entered the back room and found Clive in his office. He was the one changing prices from a work terminal. There was ample evidence he was in the throws of demonic possession. There was an inhuman din of voices emanating from the walls, the temperature in the room was sweltering, Clive’s head was completely twisted around and there was the unmistakable scent of rotting meat, though that may have just been a grocery store thing.
I unholstered my balsa wood crucifix and confronted Mucky. He used his demonic powers to make fun of my job and my weight. I ignored him through my tears and continued reading passages from my copy of Dianetics.
It was at this moment a Loblaws security guard entered the office. I tried to explain the situation and have him help restrain Mr. Jumbo. I then recognized the security guard. It was Philip Rogers, the same man who I spoke with at The Sandy Bum Lakeside Condominium. He works security at this Loblaws and at the condo. He stole the ID tag from Clive’s office and used spare keys to enter the neighbouring apartment to plant the totem. Philip Rogers’ motivation was to reduce grocery prices. Even working two jobs he was unable to support his family and pay rent. He locked me in the room with Mucky and proceed to do his weekly shopping.
Conclusion
To conclude this report, I have irrefutable evidence that getting a Demonology degree was in fact not a waste of my time and money. Incidentally, I’ve also proven that Clive Jumbo was possessed and killed by the demon Zheltuchmuckzue who was summoned by Philip Rogers, the security guard.
I have the following evidence in my possession to support my conclusions:
A $212.45 check from Constance Jumbo for services rendered
I have an office and business cards
I have a business partner, Sandra Cromwell
A real person called me because of my expertise
Cheap totem made from grocery store products
Video of Sandra communing with Clive/Zheltuchmuckzue
10 pounds of Prime Rib purchased for $2.25 a pound
Philip Rogers, technically, broke no laws so my citizen’s arrest was promptly undone by the cops. And, apparently, I broke some law when I broke into the back office. I’m also a suspect in the death of Clive Jumbo. I think it’s obvious I don’t have the upper body strength to twist his head 180 degrees.
So, mom and dad, I’ll need to borrow some money for a lawyer. I can pay you both back in Prime Rib.