Michael Tsaphah

How do you come to grips with darkness? Darkness comes in many forms. A wicked leader in power, a tornado that killed thousands, or a psychopath who killed innocent people. Yet can an inanimate object become evil? My friend Randy faced evil from an inanimate object his wife found that was demonically wicked.

At age eleven, I lived in Weymouth, Massachusetts. The horror of that kind of darkness was unheard of in our town. This evil deed left a black spot here when a Vietnam Veteran named Milton David Karp, age forty-four, came to Weymouth. 

Milton gave the appearance of being a typically hard-working conservative. His only apparel was his black-rimmed glasses. He wore a bleached white shirt with black high-cut pants and maroon loafers. I imagined ten sets of the same dull wardrobe. Yet Milton of obsessiveness made him look like he was from the nineteen fifties rather than the nineteen eighties. Of Course, my definition of normal is a setting on a washing-machine dial.

Dorothy Ann Karp was forty, and she bore him two children. Both children well-mannered and obedient to their parents Samuel twelve-year-old and six-year-old Mary a typical little girl. The mid-western Pentecostal family moved to our small quiet town. Milton answered the call as the assistant pastor at the Northern Greater Pond Assemblies of God Church.

The real estate agent, a closet that was originally a root cellar on top of the sevens seventh-century cottage. The two-story five-acre painted house at 566 South Chestnut Street was in deceptive joyous earthy colors of reddish-brown with tan trim of the Karp’s home. Against Milton’s wishes, Mary started to play with an imaginary friend.

On Saturday, Dorothy made lunch for the children, carving a ham from supper two nights ago. The fragrance of the spiced cloves and the pineapple glaze on the ham made Samuel hungry. Dorothy called out from the window, “Mary, come inside for lunch.” The sound of silence echoed, meant Mary ignored the call to come in, “What is that girl doing now.” Finally, she heard her mother call, “Come on, Mary, lunch is ready” Mary shouted back, “Coming.”

The kitchen door slammed as Mary stood there; black dirt on her fingernails, hands, and knees showed evidence of her activity. “Young lady, you go upstairs and wash your filthy hands this minute,” Dorothy demanded.

The sound of running water and the scent of a flowery soap allowed Mary to return to the table. “What were you doing outside that had your attention,” Dorothy asked. “Momma, Mary got a new boyfriend,” Samuel said as he teased and poked his sister. Dorothy said, frowning at Mary, “Who’s your friend,” Mary replied, poking out her tongue at Samuel, “He is my make-believe friend, and his name is Ishmael.”

“Not that again,” Dorothy said. A thud sound broke Mary’s smile broke Mary’s put the amulet on the table. The ashes covered the black-sapphire gem amulet, where the soot hid an engraved, scarlet-colored Hebrew “ת” symbol in the center. Around the silvery colored border was the Latin phrase: “Ego sum Rex Gloriae!” Dorothy picked up the amulet and asked, “Where did you get this necklace?” Mary replied, “Ishmael gave it to me” Scolding Mary, Dorothy said, “Your father will need to know about this.”

Over the next couple of days, events got bizarre. Dorothy and Milton both misplaced items. Then Samuel awoke every night to strange voices. He had bite and scratch marks all over his body. Milton and Dorothy argued about the events in the house.

20:30 hours on the 31st of October 1987: Milton stayed home while Dorothy and the children were at church. While he clutched the amulet, he irritably paced in the bedroom. Suddenly, Milton tossed it on the bed. He walked into the bathroom and looked at the toilet. Then Milton returned to the bedroom as. Milton stared and tapped on the watch’s glass. He put the clock against his ear while he gazed out the window. Milton replied, “It works. So, where in the hell is she”

Milton walked back into the bathroom again, lifting the toilet bowl lid and pulling out a chilled whiskey bottle. He sipped the liquor to calm his nerves. Meanwhile, thirty minutes later, the front door slammed, and Dorothy and the children dressed in costumes came inside. Milton stood by the fireplace and smoked a cigarette while holding a quarter-full whiskey bottle. “I see you’re back at your old Vices,” Dorothy said, “Kids, go to bed” Milton took another swallow as he replied, “You’re late.”

Mary ran to her room and slammed the door. She cried herself to sleep. Dorothy picked up the phone to dial. “Put it down,” Milton said as he cocked a revolver. Dorothy shouted, “Don’t do this, Milton. It’s this wicked house.”

Meanwhile, Mary started to toss and turn in her bed. “A blond-haired man wore fancy ruffled clothes. Men tied him to a large, twisted oak tree with wood piled around him. Mary saw seven bodies that hung on the branches. 

Around his neck was the black-sapphire amulet. Flashing back and forth to his dream showed him agonizing in flames. As the fire engulfed the man’s body, He shouted: “Ego sum Rex Gloriae!” the amulet was glowing near the smoldering ashes mixed with bones, and a skull lay in a heap near the tree. The Puritans tossed the amulet on top of the ashes in the box. As the lid closed, a gunshot echoed.” Mary gasped and jerked up from the nightmare.

“Mary, where is that damn amulet,” Milton asked, stomping up the stairs? Samuel came into the room, opened the window, and whispered, “Quick, out the window and hide, and take this back to Ishmael.” She whispered, nodding, “Okay.” Samuel lowered her down on a bedsheet out the window. Mary looked up and smiled as she went down. The little girl fell to the ground, a shot rang out as, and Mary crying and limping, she moved to the side of the house.

23:55 hours: Milton stood over Dorothy’s body in the living room with a 38-caliber revolver. Meanwhile, Mary cried inside the root cellar. She dug a small shallow hole and put the amulet back into the box. As she closed the box, a violent wind blew fiercely and gave a demonic growl that shrieked the word “Ish-ma-el.”

Midnight: At that moment, the Sheriff and his Deputies kicked in the door. Reverend Karp, with red eyes, yelled, “I am the King of Glory” He shot himself under the chin and fell dead beside his wife. The shot echoed as Mary jumped while she covered the box with dirt.

Moments later, I watched the paramedics wheel the bodies into the ambulance. Meanwhile, Mary glared into space, and her face smudged from crying. She was put into a car with a social worker. Three days later, Randy and I saw the Trauma Scene Crew had finished cleaning the house and had boarded up all the windows and doors. Meanwhile, the ground beamed a fluorescent scarlet color in the root cellar.

Randy wiping away the dirty, “Holt, see if there’s any blood on the walls.”

“They cleaned the blood, yah dummy,” Holt said. “,

“Hey, something is appearing in the fireplace,” Randy said.

“What ghost,” Holt said as we looked through the window. We saw red inside the fireplace. We ran away from the horrible sight in terror.

Thirty years later, On a bright Indian Summer day, a moving truck pulls up to 566 South Chestnut Street. Two burly men bring the furniture inside while a couple unpacks boxes. Inside the house, use my friend Randy Lee Crane worked as a reporter for the Boston Globe.

 He was now age forty-two at six-foot-one and built like an oak tree with blond hair and blue eyes. His fiancée Susan Brenda Silverman had brunette thick curly hair and green eyes only weighing a buck one-ten soaking wet at the age of thirty-five. She taught at Salem High School, and the playful cheer she brought to Randy’s peppered business personnel made a move into their new life work. 

 Later that evening, Randy smoked a cigarette. He said to his Editor on the phone, “Sure, George, but I need to settle in, and then I’ll do my duty at work.” Susan noticed a tarnished steel medium size box by the grey granite fireplace. 

The old steel box had an embedded lock that kept it secure. The safety had six tiny words that read: “Maledicta et mors ei qui aperit.” Opening the box, she asked, “What does that mean.”

Some strong winds blew the door open. Susan shrieked, “Randy, help me.” as a swirling force surrounded her. Multiples of voices spoke the name “Ishmael.” and the line went dead. Randy shouted, “Hello, George, George. Are you there?” The house turned pitch black as if a thick blanket of darkness covered the place.

Randy yelled, running toward her, “Where are you, baby” He tripped over boxes and turned on the phone’s flashlight as he scanned the room. Randy saw Susan huddled in the corner, trembling. Randy grabbed her, and she whimpered, “God, Randy, what’s going on in this house.”

The crackle of the logs burned in the warm fireplace as they ate Chinese take-out by candlelight. Susan asked, “What’s with this house.” Randy joked as he replied, “It’s just the creepy crawlers of this house.” Susan replied, holding up the amulet, “That’s not funny, but look at what I found.” 

Get rid of it,” Randy replied, “It looks dark and sinister” 

Later, the lights came back on while they laid in bed. The black-sapphire amulet inside the box glowed. 

On the fifth day, at 22:15 hours 25th of October 2017: Randy walked into the house. He entered the living room. Going to the bar, Randy opened the ice bucket. He placed three cubes of ice into a tumbler and poured the bourbon decanter into the tumbler. The ice tinkled as Randy took in tiny swallows. Suddenly, Randy put his keys in the change bowl near the box of the amulet. Randy slipped into the warm covers. In the distance, the steel box glowed. 

The following day, Randy couldn’t find his keys for several hours. He ripped through the house, and he missed work. Susan picked up the key in the bedroom, “Here they are,” He asked, “Where were they” She said, “In the change bowl.”

The second day, 15:12 hours, 26th of October 2017: Susan went home and cleaned the house after school. She took the trash outside to the garbage can. The door slammed shut and locked itself. Three hours later, Randy drove home, and he saw Susan outside.

Third Day, 21:30 hours 27th of October 2017: Susan would always wear the amulet. This particular night. She decided to get ready for bed and drew a warm bath. Susan took off her clothes with the charm. She finally relaxed in the water and, hours later, got out, wrapping herself in a towel. Susan sat at the vanity, brushing her hair as a dark shadow ran behind her. She turned around but saw Nothing. Something touched. Susan jumped and then looked around again, but no one was there. She went into the closet for her bathrobe.

Suddenly, something pushed Susan into the closet. The door closed, and she shook and banged on the door. As she screamed, “Let me out, you bastard.” 

Two hours later, Randy heard her as she cried, and he opened the door. “The door locked me out” Susan grabbed him and said, “I’m not crazy, Randy,” He said, “There are no locks here.”

The fourth day, 21:05 hours 28th of October 2017: While at work, Randy called, “Sorry baby, I’m going to be at work a little late tonight.” 

Susan replied, “Okay, sweetheart, I love you.” 

Susan hung up the phone, and she changed into her old flannel pajamas. Then she put the amulet in the steel box. As she turned away from the box, it illuminated a fluorescent scarlet color again.

Going downstairs, she walked into the kitchen to get a wine. She took a sip of the Cabernet, went into the living room, and turned on the television. Hours later, she dozed off while the tv started to flicker and changed to a black-and-white movie. 

The illusion showed‘A blond-haired man in fancy ruffled clothes. He wore the amulet while tied to the twisted oak tree, with wood piled around him. Seven bodies hung on the branches. The amulet glimmered a bright scarlet color around his neck as his head hung down.” He called Susan’s name while she was asleep, and she turned toward the voice that called her. The flames engulfed him, and as he held Susan tighter, she felt her arms burning. “Let me go of me” She yelled. He held her tighter as he cackled. She screamed, “Who are you” He cried as the flames rose around them both, “Ego sum Rex Gloriae.”

Susan yelled, “You’re not Randy” She felt her skin burn and jerked away. Susan asked as she fell backward. “Who are you” He screamed, “I am Ishmael”” Hours later, Randy yelled, “It’s me, Susan. Wake up,” Stunned, she jerked away in terror, “Get away from me,” Susan huddled at the edge of the couch. Symbols burnt into the skin of her arms when she pulled up her pajama sleeves. Randy took her to the Emergency room.

On the fifth day, 11:13 hours, 29th of October 2017: Bandages covered the second-degree burns on Susan’s arms that blistered under the bandages. As they drove back home, Susan turned and replied. “I can’t stay at that house anymore, Randy,” He asked, “What do you want me to do? That is our home, Sue.”

She answered, “I hate that nickname.”

Sounds like legal jargon.”   

He asked, “Where do you want to go”

She yelled, “Away from that damn hell hole.”

Relenting, he drove her to a hotel in downtown Boston. Susan gave him the engagement ring, and Randy drove off. He gazed at the ring and tried calling four separate times. Susan just let it go to voicemail. Randy sat on the bed and turned on his laptop. He looked at the major search engines on the internet. The subject was a haunted house, and his address came up. Irritably he slammed the laptop closed.

On the sixth day, at 12:00 hours 30th of October 2017: Susan was driving to Bethel Mitzvah Temple in Bronx, New York. Randy’s phone rang, and he answered it, “Randy Crane, how can I help you? You’re Tim Falcon of The Weymouth Journal & Review …You have the house’s history… How many people were in that house? Oh, that many, huh…Well, who’s that? Milton Karp…killed his wife and son…and the daughter survived; what’s her name? Mary Renee Karp-Friedman. What’s the number? 617…231…4567…thanks for your help…Goodbye.”

Meanwhile, Susan came into Thomas’s office, and he asked, “How can I help my sister today?” Susan showed the amulet to her brother. The burn marks on her arms and replied, “Thomas, what does all this mean,” Thomas studied the charm and the burnt effects on her arm for a couple of minutes. “The “אמת” means truth. Then there are these Latin words: ‘Ego sum Rex Gloria’ which means, “I am the King of Glory,” And it is a religious term for a messiah’”

Susan replied, “That’s what the man in my dream said to me.”

“What, he said this phrase,” Thomas asked?

“Yes, this phrase exactly,” Susan answered.

“The symbols on your arms are Greek symbols called the Chi-Rho,” Thomas said, “And it means the divine god of the sun.” 

“Mom, not going to like this new tattoo”” Susan chuckled. “

“Well, You need to meet this prophet”” Thomas continued, “He is a spiritualist as well, but he’s good at what he does.” 

“Really,” She questioned? “

“I’m not trying to get off the subject, but when are you going to dump Randy,” Thomas asked? “

“I don’t know, and I can’t deal with that now,” Susan replied. “

“Sis, Randy isn’t Jewish”” Thomas replied. “

“Randy isn’t the real problem,” She said, “It’s that house”  “”

“Well, the prophet will answer your questions”” Thomas replied.

Two hours later, Randy called Mary Renee Karp-Friedman, to meet up at the Flat-Black-Coffee Company on Broad Street. You could almost taste the French, Kenya, and Columbian roasts that peppered the air.

 Randy arrived early, giving him time to look over his notes. Ten minutes later, a woman who looked like a female lumberjack walked in minutes later. She looked around cautiously and saw Randy sitting in the middle of the coffee house. “Mr. Crane, I’m Mary Karp-Friedman”” she answered. She sat down and ordered a black coffee when the waitress came over. Mary shook as she drank it. “

“I have a lot of time,” Randy said, then asked, “So, what can you tell me about the house on South Chestnut?”

Mary asked, “Did you read what was on that cursed coffin of his.” 

“No, what coffin”” He asked? 

“That cursed box has these words,” Mary whispered, “Maledicta et mors ei qui aperit.” 

“I’m not Catholic, so what does that mean,” Randy asked? 

“I’m not either. It’s Latin.” Mary said, “It means, ‘A Curse and death to who opens it.””

He said, “I don’t believe in curses, demons, or ghosts.”

Mary whispered even softer, “I do, and that’s how I met him.” 

Randy asked, “Who?”

She remarked, “Ishmael, He isn’t a ghost. He’s a Watcher.”

Randy asked, “What in the hell is a Watcher?”

Mary replied, “Ishmael is some kind of Fallen Angel.”  “We’re not in the Dark Ages.” Randy replied, “He’s just a voice in your head or some undigested hot dog you ate last night.”

“It murdered my life,” She replied, “He first appeared as an Angel of Light… I remember how it started. He came when I opened that steel box. I remember like it was yesterday…’

‘…I was six years old and used to play in the root cellar at our house. It was there where we met. He called me from that box…the gagging smell of dead-burnt- flesh. When I opened the box, it had the ashes of the phantom of Ishmael. I told my dad my imaginary friend was coming to get us.” Then, evil things started to happen every night for one week before Halloween.”

“Like what,” He asked?

She said, “Weird stuff, like, my momma lost her hairbrush, my dad’s keys got lost.”

Coffee-cup shook as Randy asked, “Keys.” 

“Yes, keys. “Then Samuel awoke every night, and he heard voices.

Then Ishmael bite scratched my brother’s whole body.

My mom and Dad argued daily about that evil house. “Then Ishmael killed my dad, momma, and brother…Everything I loved died that day.” 

⎯ Mary Karp-Friedman

Randy remarked, “I thought your dad killed your momma, your brother, and himself.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Mary replied as she reached into her pocket and took out a bottle. She took her pills as she shook. Then she said, “Smash that amulet; destroy it before it destroys you and everyone you love.” When she said that, a gust of wind blew open the door of the coffee house, and the name “Ishmael” wailed as the windows shattered.

Randy told me he heard hysterical screams and shouts as everyone in the coffee house got up off the floor. Bleeding, Mary glared at Randy and called, “You’re Ishmael,” Randy asked, “You’re joking, right,” Mary whispered, “You stay away from me, you evil son-of-a-bitch!” Then she ran out of the coffee shop. Frantic, Randy tried to call Mary back, but she was gone. Minutes Later, he called Susan again, but she didn’t answer.

On the seventh day, at 09:00 hours 31st of October 2017, Randy raced to the hotel where Susan stayed, but she was gone. He dialed my number on my cellphone. “Holt Smith, this is Randy Crane. I got a question. What do you know about Ishmael Rothschild.” 

I asked, “Where did you learn about that name.” 

He yelled, “A Fallen Angel, who cares.”

I replied, “It’s nothing, I just know he was a member of the Knights of the Apocalypse. Ishmael was one of eight men that escaped the Inquisition. The King of England knighted Sir Ishmael Lee Rothschild. Later, William the Third banished Rothschild to the Colonies.”

He asked, “For what.”

I answered, “He was guilty of necromancy, polygamy, and molestation of seven young girls that became his wives. This night in 1698…the Puritans sentenced Sir Rothschild to hang with his wives. They walked Rothschild and his wives to a tree. Rothschild’s final words to them. “Shalt, I die as a dog in chains.”

He yelled, “If I am to go to hell, then to the flames, I shall go.” They burnt him on that tree in your yard and buried him under your house.”

Randy said, “I think Susan is in danger. Call you later””

21:15 hours before midnight: Randy called Thomas and asked, “Thomas, where is Susan,” Thomas hesitated, then replied, “She’s with a prophet named Bartholomew Davison.”

Randy asked, “Why?”

Thomas replied, “To cleanse that house.”

Randy hung up, called me back, and replied, “Holt, it’s me again. I need your help, old friend.”

I asked, “Sure, what’s going on.”

“Some crazy prophet is with Susan,” Randy replied, “They’re going to cleanse the house.”

 “What’s this prophet’s name,” I asked?

“Does the name Prophet Bartholomew Davison ring any bells?”

“He thinks the amulet of the Knights of Apocalypse will give him eternal power,” I yelled.

“I’ll meet you over at your house,” Holt replied, “He’s going to try to kill your future wife.”

Time was running out and the moon was coming to a eclipse, and I was calling Susan to try and warn her of her company she was keeping. I feverishly called to no avail. Because the messages kept going to voicemail. 

23:00 hours before midnight: Prophet Davison and Susan entered the house. Bartholomew opened the door, took a deep breath, and muttered, “The Black Sapphire of the Knights of Apocalypse shields those with clairvoyant abilities.” He starts burning sage incense all around the four corners of the house.

Next, he ignited candles blessed by Catholic priests. Bartholomew grabbed Susan while he brandished a small golden Symitar. He sliced her palm and spilled the blood on the amulet. As he put it on. A spirit entered Bartholomew, and his eyes turned a blood moon red.

He raised the knife and threw Susan on the floor while he started to choke her, as she fought back and yelled, “Stop it, let me go.” Bartholomew replied in Latin, “Hear me, my lord, To the entity of this house, receive this sacrifice I now give.” Randy and I arrived at the house, greeted by Susan’s scream.

The house glowed a blood moon as the winds blew around the house. We tried to open the locked door. Randy kicked it open as he leaped over the sofa toward Susan. Then Randy kicked Bartholomew, knocking him to the floor. Randy ripped off the amulet and threw it at me. I took a hammer to destroy the charm.

Bartholomew released a demonic growl as he rose from the floor stiff as a board. “Nooooo.” As he swung the knife back and forth. He sliced my arm as I dropped the hammer. I took my belt off to stop the cut that bled and shouted, “The blood of Christ rebukes you, Satan.” Bartholomew convulsed toward the floor. I picked up the hammer again and smashed the amulet. Bartholomew’s chest exploded, and blood erupted all over the walls. The clock on the wall tolled midnight.

Eighth Day 00:15 hours 1st of November 2017: Statements were taken by deputies of what happened. And Bartholomew’s shredded body was taken to the morgue. Randy and Susan are sitting on the curb. He put on the engagement ring and passionately kissed Susan, and he replied, “The eighth day means a new beginning.”

 One year later, a balding elderly man in a Weymouth antique store showed a woman a discolored steel box. When he opened the box, inside was a black-sapphire ring with a Hebrew symbol in the center. Then the wind whispered, “Ish-ma-el.”

The End

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