Destruction of the Lyle Hill Demon

WILLIAM BROWN, the Greenock-based author of The Second Magpie, tells us how he survived two decades of haunting encounters with a demonic being

The very idea of the existence of any being, whether sublime or diabolical, will always be hotly contested. From angels and demons to fairies and banshees, every culture in the world has representations of these subjective entities. Each one is a supposed manifestation of good and evil, preying on the imbalance of the human mind or soul.

In 1977, the imbalance of my own state of mind served as the catalyst that allowed this particular entity to fully occupy my being — body and soul. The horror I endured that night marked the beginning of a 20-year battle between myself and the demon.

20 Year Battle With Demon

After years of searching for some kind of defence against the entity, divine providence, in my opinion, led me to my lifelong friend, Barry Engleby. Barry’s knowledge of the paranormal was the defining factor for me in this supernatural battle. Now, some 20 years after the first attack on the hill, I had the ammunition I was looking for.

“Imagination is the only weapon at your disposal,” Barry said.

“But I’ve still never seen the bloody thing,” I replied.

Barry explained that all of the attacks by the entity occurred out-of-body during my sleeping hours, even though they felt real. And he was correct; my etheric and astral projection practices should have clued me in.

“The next time the beast attacks, fight it with your imagination. Picture spikes shooting out from your body,” Barry advised.

The penny dropped immediately; how could I have been so foolish? My imagination at that time was exceptional.

From that moment on, I practised envisioning sharp spikes, about a foot long, shooting out from my body.

That night, I felt armed to the teeth and ready for this entity. Would you believe it? Nothing happened for the next few nights. This led me to wonder if I had subconsciously defeated the demon because I now had the astral defence to beat it. But I knew in my heart and soul that this entity was real.

I remained resolute in my belief and continued practising the imaginary spikes. After about a week, the beast returned.

As I was falling asleep, I saw the wall in my room shimmer like a haze on a summer’s day. Three shimmering entities moved towards my bed. My last physically conscious thought was, “Bloody hell, there are three of them!” Instantly, the beast was upon me. Now, I knew I was out of body and in the dream realm.

Full Terror of Lyle Hill Demon

The full terror of the attack was happening again, as always. It took me about 20 seconds to get to grips with the entity, and then my imagination took over. “SPIKES!” was the firm command that filled my being.

Imaginary spikes shot from my body, and the entity let out a horrific yelp as it leapt away from me, landing with a thud beside my bed. For the first time in twenty years, I was staring this demon in the face, and its expression was one of utter surprise.

Because my concentration had shifted during my staring match with the entity, the spikes I had imagined were no longer there, and the beast attacked me again.

“My God,” I screamed. After a few seconds, I managed to grasp its head with both hands. I was now eye-level with the entity and immediately imagined one more wooden stake-type spike.

I saw this spike fly from my forehead and splat right into the middle of its ugly face. Once again, it yelped and went down. Instantly, I was wide awake and back in my body. The demon was still there; I had brought it out of the dream realm.

I could see it was beaten, and then it evaporated into a million or so pieces. The demon was gone and has never returned.

The above article has been taken from the book The Second Magpie, now available on Amazon, a horrific yet at times funny true story of one person’s paranormal experiences. These occurred after the accidental opening of psychic centres he never knew existed, all while trying to live a normal family life.

WILLIAM BROWN says: “I was born in 1959 and raised in Greenock on the west coast of Scotland, where all the incidents described in the story happened. I had a normal, happy, albeit very poor upbringing in one of the working-class housing schemes during the 60s and 70s. I married at 19 in 1979, and 44 years later, I’m still married and have four children — three girls and a son. They have, in turn, provided me with nine grandchildren. I never realised I had so much love in me, such is the affection I have for my family. I’ve spent my whole working life in the painting industry, from the age of 16 until now, at 64. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a single thing and count my blessings every single day.”