Three Second Escape

By Lexann Beornet

Car lights were fast approaching from both sides of the fence. If they didn't get through the gate in time, they would be trapped by the satanic worshipers! Their lives would be snuffed out on the altar of Satan. This Halloween was unlike any Lillie Thorpe had ever remembered. Three-Second Escape is based on a true-to-life experience. It exposes the world of a satanic cult, the truth about Halloween, the workings of the Roman Catholic Church, and persons workings in law enforcement from local police to the FBI and ATF that are both honest and corrupt. This story contains her year volunteering in the Roman Catholic Church, a murder mystery, an exorcism that Lillie assisted with in San Antonio, Texas, and gives the reason she will never celebrate Halloween in the innocent of her past.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781642143324

Book preview

Chapter 1

Halloween Events

The starter on the truck was grinding and then turned over. Luis heavy foot went all the way down on the accelerator as he simultaneously turned the steering wheel as hard as he could to the right. As the truck spun around, dirt went flying. Hope was pinned against me, and I was trying hard not to fall into Luis’s shoulder. The cow path we were traveling on was full of holes and bumps, making it feel like the back tires were flying through the air. Car lights were fast approaching us from opposite sides of the fence. If we didn’t get though the opening in the fence, we would be trapped by the satanic worshippers! This Halloween Eve was unlike any I had ever remembered!

My Halloween childhood memories started in grade school. For many of us children, it’s a happy time of life. School started in September. On the first day of class, we looked for old friends we hadn’t seen all summer. There was always a new kid or two who needed to be welcomed. By October, the new kids had become old friends. The week before Halloween, we made drawings during art time. On the day before Halloween, our teacher taped all our drawings on the walls for everyone to see. Pictures showed ghosts flying over rooftops of haunted houses. This was at the time when the comic, ‘Casper the Friendly Ghost’ was popular, thus influencing our drawing. Other kids may have drawn witches on brooms and black cats. On this special day, one of the classmate’s mother would bring cupcakes decorated with orange frosting. However, what everyone was really excited about were our activities of the coming night: Halloween!

I could not wait to get dressed in my costume. When it became dark, my parents gave us brown paper bags for trick-or-treat candy. Mom and dad walked with us, using a flashlight so we could see our way along cracked sidewalks without falling. It was a night to remember for the whole family!

I, Lillie Thorpe did remember a very special old woman on one block. Ringing Mrs. Barns’s doorbell would bring on happy excitement, for she would answer her door in her witch’s costume. She always gave the best candy or, sometimes, even made big popcorn balls for treats, which were my favorite.

Advancing to the sixth grade and then on to middle school, we could go trick-or-treating on our own. By these ages, older children would become chaperones for younger siblings or we would have friends from school to walk with. Some years there would be a party at one of our friend’s homes after trick-or-treating. Our parents didn’t always know the parents of the other kids who were giving the party, but that was acceptable. If we were with a classmate and he or she had a party to go to at someone else’s house, it was automatically assumed to be safe; and we were safe.

High school was even more fun. On Halloween night, someone in the class had a car that everyone would pile into. Then the big thing would be dragging the main street of town. Boys were looking for girls to pick up, and girls were hoping they would be picked up. Usually we kids would meet up with a rival school, and then the car races were on. Most of us no longer wanted to dress in costume; that was thought to be for younger children. Parties were held all over town for us high school kids. After the party, a few of the bad boys and girls would load their car with toilet paper. We then would head for the most popular teacher’s house to decorate trees and lawns with streams of toilet paper. Sometimes the target of our intent was the rival school. At times, the pranks would get out of hand, and the pranksters would throw paint onto a symbolic statue or kidnap the school mascot of the rival school. Such vandalism did not go off well with the school principal. This was part of an ongoing rivalry that had existed between the schools for decades, but was generally understood and accepted by the communities.

That was the Halloween of the past. Grandchildren of our generation now celebrate Halloween in a different way. For the most part, Halloween is no longer a door-to-door event. Parties are under strict supervision of parents or trustworthy adults. Schools, churches, and neighborhoods now put in place a safe area where children and parents can come to enjoy Halloween without fear of harm. Trick-or-Trunk is a new invention of a Halloween attraction. In a secured well-lit parking lot, cars are parked with their trunks open. It’s fun going from car to car seeing the creative ways the owners of the cars have decorated their trunks. All participating owners of the cars have had a complete background checks by the local police. Children, parents, and trusted adults often select a costume theme for the family as an identifier of their group.

Some neighborhoods are totally blocked off with intense lighting, and security is put in place where families can go house to house for trick-or-treating without fear of harm coming to their children. The owners of these homes have also had complete background checks by the local police.

For the past thirty years, my own trepidations and fears have kept me from sharing this account. I kept only notes in my journal but there is so much more to tell. I, Lillian Thorpe, was inadvertently present and detected as an outsider at a satanic ground near St. Louis, Missouri. The location was on private farmland property. On that Halloween Eve, I saw with my own eyes, and heard with my own ears, a very small part of what happens at a satanic ground on Halloween Eve. I later learned that on Halloween night, Satan worshippers celebrate the real horror! On that night real people sacrifice human beings, like themselves…on an altar to Satan.

I believe, people who have a belief in the greater good, and in the oneness of God, can end such suffering and evil.

Sharing the events surrounding my unsuspecting trip to the satanic grounds on the eve of Halloween, is to awaken people who live in countries that celebrate Halloween, of the realities of Satan worship currently taking place. Satanic worship and Christian worship have been at war for centuries. The violence of Halloween night from those filled with hate and anger toward God and humanity must be confronted; if not from the physical plane, then from the spiritual plane. Evil is growing and festering in our societies under the umbrella of the rights of religious worship.

If we are to live to our potential as followers of Christ, men and women must reflect His spirit. We can cast out darkness and affirm light for we are spiritual human beings of God. We can acknowledge the challenges by responding with prayer, meditation, and love from the heart. The light of Christ is capable of consuming the darkness of satanic worship.

What appears on the following pages, is to honor the truth about Halloween that is so unknown to the majority of people that celebrate this night of death…because it is fun!

Chapter 2

This Is My Story

"When I, Lillian Thorpe, was in my midforties, an event occurred that changed my perception of Halloween forever. While I was working as a volunteer at St. Raphael’s Catholic Church in St. Louis, Missouri, a seminarian student arrived to volunteer. This man’s name was Luis Upton and, by his insanity, has had a profound influence on my life.

St. Raphael’s parish was focused on helping local community services with homeless shelters, food pantries, and financial aid for low-income families. St. Raphael had its own food pantry known as God’s Food Pantry. In the winter, coats were collected from Catholic churches throughout the area and were distributed to those in need of warmth.

Rev. Donald Clark, a priest in his thirties, was recently assigned to St. Raphael’s as his first senior pastor position. Father Don, as everyone called him, was a genuinely good person and a very handsome man. He was six feet two inches tall and his body was firm from his daily workouts. His hair was full, the color of cinnamon. Those eyes of his were a dark chocolate brown and his eyebrows were perfectly arched. Faithful to his church and caring for his parishioners, Father Don taught religion classes at the Catholic Grade School on the grounds of St. Raphael. He had a great respect for the teachers and children at the school. To relax, he entertained his brother priest with a poker game twice a month. It was the boys’ night in. When the weather was warm, and he had time, a round of golf was in order. He was a very busy man.

On holidays and during the summers, seminary students came to volunteer at St. Raphael’s. The seminarians would stay at the rectory. Luis Upton arrived a month before Halloween, an unusual time of the year for a student to volunteer. He started at the seminary when he was thirty-eight; he was a late bloomer in life. He stood five-eleven, weighed around 160 pounds, his hair was coal black, and he wore it combed back. He had a round face, brown eyes, and heavy eyebrows. His black-rimmed glasses gave him a scholarly look. His need to shave twice a day gave him a perpetually darkened look. He was an ambitious man, constantly sharing his answers to life’s questions. Luis was confident the day of his ordination would be a glorious one. There was no doubt in his mind he would become a bishop.

Three Roman Catholic sisters, from a local religious community, were in charge of God’s Food Pantry. My assignment was to help the sisters with anything they needed to have done. I became the primary driver of the church truck. Often I would drive Sisters Joanne, Sister Mary Rose and Sister Margaret to go shopping or to make the weekly trip to the food bank.

The pantry was located a couple of blocks from church in a small three-bedroom house owned by St. Raphael Catholic Church. These sisters chose to live at the pantry in order to serve the poor whenever needs arose. All the sisters were in their sixties; they were beautiful, spiritual women who worked very hard.

The volunteer program for laypeople was supported by the local diocese, which gave individuals the opportunity to participate in the daily life of the church. This was a way I could serve the church I loved as a volunteer for a year.

My living quarters was at a house owned by the church a couple of blocks away from St. Raphael. I had two roommates. The women were volunteer schoolteachers: Susan Walker, a teacher and a devout Catholic. Susan was quite conservative. Her posture was so perfect that when she walked her footsteps were direct. All her clothes were neatly tailored and her shoes always polished. She was a good teacher and loved children; however, discipline was very important to her. She believed a good child is a well-behaved child!

Hope Morrison, age twenty-four, had recently graduated with a teaching degree from St. Louis University. Hope came from a religiously devout Catholic family. Many priests and nuns were among her ancestry. Hope, however, had thoughts of marrying and having at least four children. She was the essence of natural beauty with curly reddish-tinted hair and blue eyes. Her smile lit up a room when she entered.

I was the oldest woman in the program. My marriage hadn’t lasted long. The best thing out of the marriage was a son. For most of my adult life, I have been a single mom. Now my son is in college and on his own. It is time for a new beginning in my own life.

My background had been working with the homeless as a staff member through Interfaith Ministries. Working with the homeless population was nothing new.

As I stated earlier, my job was to help the sisters in their ministry of running God’s Food Pantry. The sisters worked very hard lifting food, boxes and sacking groceries. The sisters had priority of the church’s old Chevy pickup truck that had seen better days. It had many dents and the robin’s egg blue paint job was faded. As the truck’s primary driver, I would drive the truck to the food distribution center every week. The truck would be loaded with canned goods and whatever other food items were available.

Thursdays were the days for food distribution. Before the door was open, the sisters offered prayers for the people standing in line. Then the doors opened at 8:00 a.m. There would be a line of people stretching for two or more blocks waiting for a free bag of groceries. No questions were asked of the people receiving the food. The sisters felt if a person was willing to stand in line, then the need was there. The neighborhood was in the ghetto. The sisters never judged the people in line. They handed the bags out with a smile and a kind word.

Though the work was heavy, it was rewarding.

Chapter 3

Incoming Call

It was one afternoon when I had finished at the food pantry that I went back to the volunteer house. It was still early, so no one was at home. When the phone rang I answered the call. It was Luis, the new seminarian volunteer on the other end. We chatted a bit and then Luis said, Tomorrow night is Halloween Eve. Let’s go to the satanic ground and see what’s going on. Tomorrow night they anoint their altar and purify the grounds. (For those who worship Satan, Halloween is the major holiday, equivalent to Christmas for the Christians). I thought, "This is a strange invitation." Are you kidding me, Luis? Why on earth would you want to go there?

I think a priest should know what the enemy (Satan) is up to. I’ve been there many times. My brother and I used to go out there frequently, hardly every missed Halloween Eve or Halloween.

Where is this ground located? I asked out of curiosity.

It is out by Washington. Washington is about fifty-one miles west of St. Louis. Why not, I thought, I don’t believe in such things. It would give us something to do. It might be fun, kind of like a snipe hunt. I did not take Luis seriously.

OK, Luis. What time do you want to go?

Make it around five. Be sure to wear dark clothes, we don’t want to be seen. Ask Hope if she wants to go. You have the truck?

OK, Luis, I will ask Hope…Yes, I do have the keys to the church truck… It’s in the parking lot at the church.

That sounds good…See you girls then. I hung up the phone and thought to myself, "Well, this will be interesting…I wonder why he didn’t invite Susan. I guess it wouldn’t be her thing."

Upon finding Hope, I told her about Luis’s proposal. Hope was all for going. It was better than staying home.

Yeah, I’m in. Hope then called Luis to let him know she wanted to come along.

I walked with Hope to the church parking lot, keys to the truck in hand. Luis was already there waiting for us, dressed in a black sweatshirt and blue jeans. The autumn air was chilly that evening. Luis carried a lightweight black jacket over his shoulder. He held a brown leather zippered case in his left hand. Taking the keys from me, he said, I’ll drive. I know where we are going. He then opened the door of the truck and slid the brown leather case behind the seat as he tossed his jacket on the back of the seat.

I got in on the passenger side and took the middle seat. To fit the dress code of the evening, I had chosen blue jeans, dark blue shirt, and a navy-blue jacket.

Hope climbed aboard and squeezed in by the passenger-side door. For this particular outing, she was dressed in a long sleeve black shirt, blue jeans, and a black jacket.

As Luis started the truck, he spoke a warning. Listen, we need to make a pact. Tell no one! This is to be kept between us.

OK, I thought. "One for all, all for one!" We all agreed, nodding our heads yes, and shaking hands to seal the pact.

It will be almost dark when we get to the satanic ground, so we shouldn’t be detected when we arrive, Luis informed us.

They traveled westward toward Interstate 44 to get to Washington Missouri. As Luis drove, he did a lot of weaving in and out of traffic at an over-the-speed-limit aggressiveness. His driving made me nervous.

Luis informed us of what to expect when we arrived at the satanic grounds.

When we reach the satanic grounds, there will only be one road, the same out. This could get a little dangerous, but I doubted the satanic worshipers will even know we are there! I was still in denial that we were really going to a real satanic ground!

We left Interstate 44 and traveled toward Washington, Missouri. Just before reaching town, Luis drove the truck onto Voss Brink Drive and then to Bluff Road. The landscape was scenic, comprised of rolling hills and foliage bursting with Halloween colors.

Dusk was nearing when Luis drove the truck onto a dirt road. A large grove of hedge trees stood about a quarter mile up the road. Luis turned off the headlights and slowed the vehicle down. He turned in at an opening in the fence and turned off the truck’s engine. The truck coasted in silence. The dirt road narrowed to become a cow path with dead brown weeds in its middle. The path was like a washboard, with lots of holes and bumps. In near darkness, the truck rolled straight until it came to a stop on its own. A thick row of hedge trees were on the left side; a plowed field on the right.

We sat silently in the truck and listened. There was loud music, sounding like gothic metal music, coming from the other side of the trees. The sounds of the music were raw and made my skin crawl. Luis started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

They haven’t started the ceremony yet. Not all of them have arrived. Luis seemed to know quite a bit about what was going on.

Every few minutes, we saw the flashes of headlights turning onto the area where the satanic worshipers held their rituals. We could hear the opening and shutting of car doors. About thirty minutes had passed and the blaring music was so loud it hurt my ears even though we were some distance from the source.

Luis looked at us.

I’m going to get out. I want to get a closer look at what they are doing. You girls stay here.

Luis gently opened the truck door, trying not to make any noise. He slid out of the seat and stood facing us. He reached for his jacket and put it on. Then, reaching behind the driver’s seat, he pulled out the brown zippered case. Opening the case exposed a blessed crucifix and a bottle of holy water. Further down in the case was also a revolver and a holster with a brown leather belt. He removed them from the case. Luis strapped on the belt and holster then tied the string at the base of the holster around his thigh. He checked the revolver to make sure it was loaded, with the safety off, and then he placed a clip of bullets in his jacket pocket.

You have to be prepared going into their territory. Lillie, you get behind the wheel. If you hear anything, like a car door, get out of here as fast as you can. Leave me behind. I know the way out of here. Don’t make any noise. I’ll be all right…I’ll be back in a few minutes. When Luis pulled out the revolver, it became a game changer.

Speaking with alarm, I said, Luis, this is not good! We shouldn’t be out here! I don’t like guns! You didn’t tell us anything about the danger you have brought us to. Is that gun really necessary? My eyes met his.

It’s just for protection. Trying to calm me, Luis spoke quietly, It’s just for protection, if anything happens, especially if you hear a car door shutting, like I said, get out of here as fast as you can!

Luis stuffed the blessed crucifix in his belt. The bottle of holy water he opened and sprinkled over his head. Then he put the holy water bottle in his shirt pocket. We watched Luis as he walked down the cow path and headed toward the trees. Hope and I sat riveted in our seat with high doses of adrenaline running through our bodies.

We sat still, listening with sonar-like hearing.

I broke the silence. Hope, I don’t like this gun business. What do you think is going through Luis’s head?

I don’t know. I didn’t know a place like this existed.

Neither did I.

We both sat very still hoping not to be found by the satanic worshipers. I could not shake the thought, God help us!

About a quarter of an hour later, Hope and I observed a figure walking toward the truck.

Look, Hope is that Luis? I whispered, pointing in front of the truck. Hope broke her silence.

I sure hope so, whispered Hope.

The silhouetted figure seemed much bigger than Luis. We were not so sure who it was. I had one hand on the truck key and the other in a white-knuckled grip around the steering wheel. As the figure came closer, we could tell it was Luis.

I slid over and Luis got behind the steering wheel. The revolver in holster was still strapped to his leg.

What did you see? I asked Luis.

The altar is in place. I counted twenty-seven people, mostly men. They’ll bring their women and children tomorrow night. The high priest is putting on his robe. They are about to start their rituals. The high priest will anoint each man with oils. The altar will be purified with incense. They have a lot of wood stacked for a huge bonfire tomorrow night.

We sat in silence for a while. The raw heavy metal music continued blaring. Suddenly the music stopped.

As a light autumn breeze travelled through the trees, all that could be heard was the rustling of leaves. The silence was broken as chanting began. Although we could not make out the words, the men’s heavy vocal sounds filled the air.

Did you hear that? Luis’s voice pitched to alert.

Yes! Hope replied. I hadn’t heard anything other than the chanting. That was a car door slamming! Luis exclaimed, as he turned the key of the truck. The starter was grinding and then turned over. His heavy foot went all the way down on the accelerator, as he simultaneously turned the steering wheel as hard as he could to the right. The truck spun around and dirt went flying. As the truck spun, Hope was plastered against me. I was holding on to the back of the seat, trying not to fall into Luis. The cow path was full of holes and bumps. The truck’s back tires felt like we were flying through the air. If we didn’t get pasted the opening in the fence, we would be trapped! The engine was straining. Luis was giving the old truck all she had. Dirt was flying up behind the truck. The satanic worshipers’ cars were within seconds of the opening in the fence. It seemed like the opening in fence was coming toward us in slow motion. In less than a heartbeat, the truck bolted through the opening in the fence. Just another three seconds and the satanic worshippers would have blocked our escape. Satan’s boys were on our tail.

My heart was pounding as I thought, This was no game. This was scary as hell! This was for real!

The truck bounced onto the dirt road. Louis continued to hold the accelerator wide open. We soon came to the pavement. The satanic worshippers’ cars were right behind us. Taking a quick glance out the back window, I noticed that more cars had joined the chase. Having pushed as hard as he could to get all he could out of the old truck, Luis turned off the truck’s lights. We were traveling nearly eighty miles per hour in pitch-black darkness! I had never been as petrified as in that moment. At the next intersection, Luis turned the truck to the left returning us onto Bluff Road, still running at a high rate of speed with no headlights. A glance into the rear window revealed our pursuers’ headlights fading with distance.

Luis made another turn onto the next dirt road where there were trees that provided cover. Another cow path road brought us deeper into the woods. The truck slowed down and Luis put on the brakes. When the truck came to a stop, Luis got out and leaned on the side of the truck. He turned back toward me and Hope, finding us sitting up right at last. My heart was still pounding.

Pointing in the direction we had traveled, Luis commented, They’re looking for us. There were now six cars’ lights visible. We’ll stay here quietly, and they will give up pretty soon.

It occurred to me that Luis had played this game many times before. He had known in advance how this was going to play out. As we watched the car lights, Luis reached into the back of the truck and pulled out a can of beer from the six packs he had placed there when he arrived at the church parking lot. As cool as anyone could be, he asked, You girls want a beer?

No thanks! Hope and I responded almost in unison we were both shaken. We continued to watch the car lights search for us. A couple of cars turned on searchlights as they drove; slowly scanning the bushes and trees.

Luis returned to his seat behind the wheel of the truck with his beer in hand. We sat in that spot with lights out for at least forty-five minutes. Finally, we could see the cars lights heading back toward the satanic ground.

I had an unsettling thought, I wondered if those guys know who we are, as Luis had been here many times before.

Luis stepped out of the truck, pulled his revolver from its holster, placed its safety back on, and laid the gun on the hood of the truck. He then unstrapped and unbuckled the holster. He walked back around to the driver’s side of the truck and opened the door and reached behind the seat for the brown leather case. He then placed the gun, still loaded, with its holster back in its brown leather case. The clip of bullets, the crucifix, and the bottle of holy water were returned to the case. He placed the case behind the seat again. Returning to his seat, he re-entered the truck. Luis started the engine and turned on the headlights. We sat there for a minute, trying to regain our own composure.

Luis then started backing out of the woods and turned the truck around heading for the road. He began driving down Bluff Road at a much lower speed.

What were you thinking coming out here? I demanded an answer.

"It’s like I told you, we need to know what the other side is doing. My brother and I have been watching these guys for several years. We’ve had shootouts with them before. That is why I brought the revolver. Most of the times, my