Last Door

By K Raven Rozier

This is the true story of a father reunited with his young son. He discovers, over time, that the boy’s mind is fractured into more than 400 multiple personalities that protect his secrets. The family’s lives are threatened when they discover he is also possessed by demons that seek to destroy them. Everybody has a secret. Some are darker than others. What would you do to protect your secret?

• Language: English
• Publisher: K Raven Rozier
• Release date: Sep 11, 2009
• ISBN: 9780557090846

K Raven Rozier

K. Raven Rozier is an author, editor and screenwriter. She taught college English and Latin for numerous years. Her interests are crossword puzzles, heirloom seed gardening, exploring the mysteries of God and the universe. She donates a portion of the proceeds from her books to charity.

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What others are saying about LAST DOOR

Rozier certainly has a way with words. From page one, I was glued! 5 out of 5 stars

Holly Christine, Goodreads.com

Wow! I have read a lot of horror but this one, in part because it was based on a true story, really got me. An amazing story of good vs. evil and the unbelievable evil humans perpetrate on each other. Unlike the over-the-top cheap thrills in books and movies like The Exorcist, all the events are presented professionally and passionately here by Rozier. She remains true to the facts but gives the characters plenty of realistic emotional depth. A must read. 5 out of 5 stars

George Wilhite, Amazon.com

’Last Door’ by K. Raven Rozier is a chilling account that examines the strange, often unbelievable & unexplainable true events! It is excellent! A must read!!! 5 out of 5 stars

JL Hazelwood, Goodreads.com

All I can say is: WOW! While I was reading I kept thinking, Are you kidding?!?! This book was truly unlike anything else I've ever read.

Kalen P., Goodreads.com

It was unbelievable, remarkable, inspirational, and terrifying all at the same time. I am left speechless. Something you should read. It will really leave you thinking.

Maureen H., Goodreads.com

LAST DOOR

Based on True Events

By

K. Raven Rozier

All photographs and illustrations are property of the author.

© 2009 K. Raven Rozier. All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

Print version: Library of Congress Control Number: 2009907406

Print version: ISBN 978-0-557-09084-6

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

For more information: http://www.lastdoormovie.com

http://www.oracleds.com

http://www.ravenrozier.blogspot.com

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/KRavenRozier

Print version available at Amazon.com

Cover design by Tristan Krause

Smashwords Edition, Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Because of the sensitive nature of what this family endured, and the involvement of children, real names and places have been fictionalized for protection.

1

Yea, they sacrificed their sons and their daughters unto devils.~ Psalms 106:37

Pewter clouds dropped heavy rain that pounded the roof of the staid church. It was the sort of day that tempted all faithful churchgoers to visit the chapel of Pastor Pillow and Sister Sheet.

At the New Life Church of Christ, a large cross loomed tall and guarded the church grounds. The persistent souls inside defied the gloomy weather to attend the service and battled against the rain to hear the Pastor’s sermon.

Inside the old brick and stained-glass church, Pastor Wymore stood at the pine pulpit reciting scripture from the Good Lord’s Book to his, mostly attentive, congregation. The choir sat off to his right, appearing as a sea of red in their voluminous robes, and the solemn organist sat on a puckered velvet bench to his left.

Pastor Wymore had none of the flair or drama of many other preachers. He favored a serious, scholarly delivery and an academic perspective to his message. During the week, he delved into his personal interests, research on the mysteries of the Bible, and on Sunday he usually fed his sheep the lighter do unto others pap. Once in a while, he would incorporate heavy metaphysical aspects into his discourse, but he knew that his ideas were falling on uneducated, uncomprehending ears. Some in his flock were annoyed by Wymore’s arrogance, but most were too intimidated by his intelligence to ever comment on his esoteric sermons. The reality was, only a small percentage of them ever opened their Bibles outside of church, which left them in a poor position to challenge the spiritual and philosophical ideas of their erudite shepherd.

Today’s message touched on the demoniac and man’s vulnerability to the dark forces of the spiritual realm.

When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none, Wymore preached.

In the fourth pew back, Sean O’Neal sat uncomfortably in the hard wooden seats with his family. He could not imagine why the pastor chose this topic matter on an already grim day. He came to church to be uplifted by a positive message. This just gave him an empty feeling. Sean put his arm behind his wife, Holly, and listened to the remainder of the long, haughty sermon. Their two little girls, Becca and Grace, ages seven and five, played a game of connect the dots on the back of the church program to pass the time until they were happily herded away, out of the main chapel, for children’s Sunday school where they would socialize with their friends.

As Sean watched his daughters, he thought about his son, Brendan, from his first marriage. He was already half grown and living with his mother. He missed Brendan and felt the ache of his absence strongly.

*

After church services and Sunday dinner with his family, Sean prepared to return to the church and for a meeting that he was dreading. Anxiety ran through his body as he thought about the strange things that had happened in those rooms behind closed doors.

It was not Sean’s plan to actually follow through when he originally made the commitment. He knew he could find an excuse to back out, but Holly was adamant that he keep his word and obligation. She insisted that the other men there were just as scared as he was, and they needed his help.

As the time grew closer to leaving, all he could think was: If only I could blow a tire, maybe even get in a car accident, as long as it’s not too bad and no one gets hurt – well, I could get hurt a little, if necessary – that would be okay. Just not this, Lord. Please.

*

Sean slowly drove his truck into the near-empty church parking lot. He turned off the engine and watched the rain cascade down the windshield and bounce off of the gray hood. He just sat there with his hands still gripping the steering wheel. He stared straight ahead, knowing he should go inside, but paralyzed by his own fear.

As a young Christian man, Sean had been on fire for the Word of God. He considered, for a time, becoming a pastor and even wrote a few sermons that he passed along to his own pastor. But, ultimately, he did not feel spiritually led to embrace it as his profession.

Now, here he was, scared and unqualified, in his opinion, to address these spiritual matters. What else could he do at a moment such as this but pray. He closed his eyes, and mustered up his most fervent plea.

Lord Jesus, please do not make me do this. I’ll do anything else. I’ll clean the church grounds, work in the nursery, pour the damn tea at the Ladies’ Auxiliary, just, please, not this.

He opened his eyes and waited, as if expecting some immediate, divine intervention on his behalf.

Nothing.

Perhaps more negotiation was in order. He closed his eyes again.

Fine, he continued, I’ll go in. You have someone intervene and tell me they don’t need me tonight. Right? Okay. Amen.

Sean looked up to heaven, took a deep, delaying breath and got out of his truck. He pulled his windbreaker jacket over his head as a make-shift umbrella and made a dash toward the church. In front of the old, wood-stained door, his hand shook as he reached for the brass handle. Looking down, he noticed his shoelaces, another delay, and knelt down to methodically untie, tighten and retie them. His eyes shot heavenward one more time to confirm the divine bargain.

We have a deal, right?

Sean nervously entered the sanctuary. Nightfall cast an eerie pall over this venerable building. Standing in the empty foyer, he looked from side to side. From around the corner, elderly Sister Baumgartner shuffled up. To be perfectly honest, he heard the sound of her nylons grating together first and then caught sight of her violet floral print dress that reminded him of his grandmother’s kitchen curtains.

Aha, a sign, he thought.

Mrs. Baumgartner. Do you need my help with anything, anything at all?

Oh, no thank you, dear, she said as she patted Sean’s arm. I believe the men are expecting you down the way, though.

Right. Okay. Sean’s posture slumped from dejection.

As if you could really barter with God.

Mrs. Baumgartner continued her shuffle down the halls of the Lord’s house and bid him good-bye. God bless you, dear.

God bless you, too, Sean offered as he plodded away in the opposite direction.

Despite the cold weather, he could feel sweat breaking the surface of his skin and forming into tiny droplets of anxiety. He reached the room where he knew everyone waited for him. He weakly opened the door with trepidation and poked his head in.

Sean. The prayer team leader approached him.

Hey, Richard. I know I’m late. I can come back another time.

No, no, it’s fine. Come on in. We’ve got a sister here who wants to rededicate her life to the Lord.

Oh, great. I can do that. Sean perked up, brave and relieved from his fears. He approached the group and gave nods of greeting to each member.

Sean glanced at the sweet-looking lady waiting to have the ministry team pray for her. God, what a jerk I am, he thought. There wasn’t any reason to freak out like that.

Richard led Sean to the small prayer circle where the other members of the prayer team were waiting. It was a mild-mannered group of three men and one woman who met once a week to do this work. Sean was asked to join only recently when one of the previous members moved out of town. He had heard stories about some of the occurrences that took place in these sessions, some miraculous, and some, well, some that Sean did not dare let his mind dwell on. Those issues are better left for others to do battle with, not him. He was very content not to delve in to those dark spiritual mysteries.

I think you all know Sean, so let’s get started, Richard said.

The group prayed over the sweet woman who had given her life to her Savior. As they concluded their prayer offerings, Richard sent the woman off with a God bless you, Sister, as he walked her to the door. The group made small talk until Richard rejoined them.

Okay, guys, he resumed, our next one is going to be a real challenge. This guy is a priest in a satanic cult. He’s been trying to break free, and he wants our help.

Oh, here we go, Sean thought. I knew there was a reason not to be here.

Sean felt the heat overtake his face and tingles creeping up the back of his head. He slowly backed away from the group, hoping to sneak out. He had always had a healthy fear of anything satanic, a very healthy fear.

Sean, where are you going, brother? Richard asked.

Uh, bathroom, Sean replied. It’s just a little white lie.

Hold up, this won’t take long. We really need you for this one. There was an urgency in Richard’s plea.

Right. Can’t weasel out now. Be strong. No fear.

Richard brought the satanic priest into the room, and Sean sized him up.

Let’s see, 6’7", 360, army fatigues and combat boots – nothing to be scared of here.

Sean’s biting sarcasm often served as a strange relief for him. Richard apparently possessed more aplomb than Sean.

Come on in, buddy. Take a seat. We’re here to help you in any way we can. There was genuine warmth in Richard’s welcome. Sean, on the other hand, wanted to run out of there as fast as he could.

Richard and the Satanist looking for redemption sat in metal fold-up chairs facing each other while the prayer team stood back in support. Richard placed his hand on the man’s knee. Sean was unaware that he was staring at the Satanist until the man’s eyes locked onto his, calling him on his stare. Sean quickly bowed his head and snapped his eyes shut, averting the already uncomfortable moment. Maybe I could sneak out during the prayer. Oh, Jesus, help me.

Let’s pray, Richard began. Father, we ask for the deliverance of this man. Release him from the evil that grasps him. Lead him to the Holy Spirit. We ask this in Jesus’ blessed name. Amen.

The group all concurred with a closing chorus of Amen.

Richard waved Sean over to him and to the satanic priest. Sean blew him off in an obvious, No thanks, you’re doing great. Richard was persistent, however, and Sean had no choice but to go or look like a wimp in front of everyone.

He took a seat across from the Satanist and greeted him with a nod and a half-smile. No harm in getting on his good side. The smile was not returned. Sean bowed his head to pray and put his slightly trembling hand on the Satanist’s knee. Sean could feel his own heart pounding heavy at his chest. A fog of panic enveloped him, and his focus seemed a million miles away from the situation in front of him.

Suddenly, before a single word was said, by some otherworldly force that felt like an electric shock wave, both of the men were jolted to the side and out of their chairs. Sean’s hand, however, extraordinarily, never left the man’s knee. They looked at each other and were both clearly surprised at this strange phenomenon.

Sean and the large man both got back up and resituated themselves in their respective chairs. The Satanist’s head was lowered, looking down at the carpet. Sean worked on slowing his breathing as he waited for the man to compose himself. Then, slowly, his head came up. Sean leaned back in his chair as he discovered the man’s eyes had turned lifeless and become veiled in darkness. This was not the same person from a moment ago. Evil shrouded every part of him. Sean sensed with his whole being that the man was unmistakably possessed by something oppressive and sinister, a demonic force.

Sean, as self-predicted, was terrified. He was sure that his heart had now ceased beating. This was exactly why he had not wanted to come to this meeting. He had heard stories about people afflicted or possessed by demons, and he wanted no part of it – zero part of it.

In that instant, Sean knew he was dead gone. Fire was going to come forth from the Satanist’s mouth and kill him on the spot. This was one area where he was just unable to feign Bruce Willis bravery, no matter how much he had wanted.

Sean had heard many times, if looks could kill, but this was the first time he ever saw that look. Those eyes were just like a shark’s right before it attacks – that look of imminent death, no life behind those predator eyes.

But, quickly and unexplainably, Sean felt a shield of power and safety come between him and the Satanist, like a force field from some sci-fi galactic spaceship, a great heavenly wall that could not be penetrated by evil. Then, in his mind, a small voice in the manner and tone of an old Jewish grandmother said to him:

How many times I gotta tell ya? He that is within you is more powerful than he that is in the world. How many times until you learn not to fear them?

Instantaneously, all fear and angst left Sean. He could not begin to understand how, but a mysterious calmness washed over him. The pounding was gone, and so was the fog. He was surprisingly composed.

He looked in to the man’s dead eyes and felt no trepidation at all, just anger at what was inside the man. He had no idea why God would put him here in this situation, but He had, and there was nothing to do but face it head on and deal with it.

Sean glanced over to the prayer team for assurance that he had their spiritual support. Every one of them was cowered back in the corner of the room, their eyes wide and unblinking at the strange event unfolding before them.

Some help they are.

He turned back to

Reviews for Last Door

[bookwhisperer · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Last Door is a terrifying story that portrays any families worst nightmare. I found myself captivated by this book description, and was compelled that this was a story I just had to read. Relucantly, I began to fear starting this novel due to my own fears of demons and possession. In an effort to overcome my fear I dove right in. Immediately this novel had my full attention, and I was surprised to find this novel to be so much more than a story of possession. As a Christian, we are to believe "He will deliever us from evil". Although this is a ture story about what happens with evil is brought to you. This shows how the actions done by others left this family with a decision to battle evil in their own home. It is incredible that this child had undergone so much, and had found a way to cope by the dividing himself into over 400 seperate persons. While much of this book sickened me to experience this child's abuse, through the retelling of this story, I was overcome with the urgency to press on. Throughout all of the trials and obstacles that this family saw; I was empowered by this family and the glorious miracles they recieved. It is obvious that the Lord was assisting this family to heal this young boy. What an incredibly strong family this must have been to continue on untainted and faithful through such a traumatic time in their Christian lives. I see the accomplishments by this Loving family, but I am saddened that they were not able to fully recover. While, life pressed on and the miracles of the Lord gave this young man a somewhat normal life. The Last Door was left closed, and this young man will never fully recover. Though as a believer I have to think that just maybe this was for the best. Only God would know if this was the better option. That maybe "The Last Door" would have been Brendan's undoing. The Afterword was a very strong proclaimation for this author. This being her attempt to show others what evil really exists in our world. It was also a stance on her own beliefs that I find to be very honorable. While I began this novel with my own fears; I concluded this novel with new feelings. Just maybe this was my own way of understanding a little better, and aleviating some of my own fears. While, this is a terrible story I praise the wonderful work of the Lord.