The Exorcist Files - S2- Case #19 "Maid for More", PT 1

Episode Date: January 14, 2026

A girls weekend in New Orleans turns into a nightmare after a fateful card game. Cozy up with your pup this season! Go to ollie.com/exfiles and use code exfiles to get 60% off your first box!Ready to give MASA a try? Get 25% off your first order by going to https://www.masachips.com/EXFILES and using code EXFILES.Check out Rocketmoney.com/exfilesLive Better Longer with BUBS Naturals.  For A limited time get 20% Off your entire order with code EXFILES at Bubsnaturals.comFollow us on the gram @theBethea and @ExorcistfilesSign up for the vault at exorcistfiles.supercast.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

By the authority of Jesus Christ, I command you to tell me. Why does she torment you? You ignorant, bread peddler, because she chose him. She obeyed heaven and on the pyre where we burned her. She's still called on the name. You have no claim over Geraldine. She is a daughter of God. In the name of Jesus, I command you to leave her.

Not so fast, you fast! She invited me in. She knows. And the door was open. She never knocked on your door. Now leave her. She did, you ignorant. She sought me.

She sought me. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Welcome back to the Exorcist Files, a nirvanic navigation to nullify the nefarious. I'm your co-host, Ryan Bethay. And today, things are about to get really tough down in the big easy. That's right, we're headed to New Orleans, the city of saints, sinners, and more than a few spirits that don't need a last call. So grab those banyets, get some jambalaya, pour some chickory coffee, and give praise to the one most hya, because it's time for our episode, Made for More.

And here to lead the way to our spiritual etoufé is the one and the only Father Carlos. Humans are continually confronted with their limitations. Every day is a reminder of our vulnerability and dependencies. We seek food, shelter, and comfort. Science and technology have pushed the boundaries back a little. We travel farther, communicate faster, and even delay the approach of death with medicines that previous ages couldn't imagine. But human limits never disappear.

They just shift. And it is precisely the awareness of our limitations, that much of life falls outside of our control that gives rise to the occult. For many it is the awareness of their limitations when the lure of divination and hidden knowledge begins to whisper. It promises clarity, it promises control. But to cite the colloquialism, the juice is never worth the squeeze. Our case today involves a young woman named Geraldine and two of her longtime girlfriends who take a trip to New Orleans during Mardi Gras.

New Orleans is a special place, the architecture, the atmosphere, the food. It's a unique fusion of cultures. When Geraldine and her friends arrived, the city was alive with color and noise, music spilling from every doorway, beads glittering in the streetlights, and the air thick with partying and life,

and of course, the Louisiana in humidity. On their first night, they wandered Burr, Urban Street, the historic road of the French Quarter known for its bars and music. After stopping in for a few drinks at various bars and enjoying the music, they started to walk back in the direction of their hotel. Okay, what was in that drink? I'm fairly certain it was an industrial solvent. I think I can actually feel the enamel on my teeth coming on.

Probably why they call it a good night moonshine. Oh, my gosh. Okay, I'm calling it. We need to do something crazy. Well, we just finished six cocktails and a platter of profit. I think we passed crazy like an hour ago. And then they saw it. At a small table just off the sidewalk was a man sitting there with a sign

with faded black letters that read, tarot readings, $20 for 10 minutes. And what do we have here? Ladies, I think we need our cards. Oh. Tiro card's Greetings at 1A.M. Yes.

Only in New Orleans, right? Okay, at least one of us has to do this. Come on, this is perfect. Look, I'm not paying for that. Okay, $20 is another cocktail. Come on, let's go. Out of here. It's a gag.

It's 20 bucks. It's not a blood pack. At least one of us has to do it. Oh, come on. Okay, okay, you know what? Fine. Chair can do it. Yes, wait.

What? Yeah. Why? me. Why me? If anyone needs it, it's you. Yeah, true. Come on, Rachel. Okay, I'll split it with you. No, deal. Yes. Do it. It's done.

Fine. Because I know many of our listeners' experience with cards consists mainly of Go Fish, War, and Texas Hold'em. I did want to give a quick rundown of just what tarot cards are and how a reading is done. Tarot cards consist of a deck of 78 symbolic cards, divided into the major arcana, 22 cards representing major life themes,

and the minor arcana, 56 cards. And yes, for our Latin experts out there, good catch. Arcana originates from the word arcanum, from Latin, which means secrets or mysteries. That should tip you off to what you're dealing with here. The major arcana cards like The Fool or the Lovers depict archetypal figures and events to offer insights into major life events. Meanwhile, the minor arcana suits correspond to elements, fire, wands for passion and creativity, water, cups for emotions and relationships, air, swords for intellect and conflict, and earth,

pentacles for finances and material matters, with each suit containing ten numbered cards, ace to ten, and four court cards, page, knight, queen, and king, similar to a normal playing deck, but it has an extra face card, the page, and the knight. Now, to be clear, tarot is primarily used for divination. One shuffles the deck, draws cards, and lays them in spreads to interpret past, present, or future influences based on positions and imagery. Readers ask a question to the deck and then attempt to intuit meanings and significance from the spread as an answer to their question. Readings do come in various forms.

There's the long Celtic cross formation, which is 10 cards for an in-depth analysis of a situation, and then there's a short version, the short three-card spread, which does a past, present, and future for quick, focused insights. The latter was being offered to our friends in New Orleans. The group approached the table. A man in his late 50s with mostly silver hair was sitting behind it. Wearing a golf shirt and khakis, he looked more like a realtor showing an open house than a man dealing in the mysteries of the occult.

Whatever image comes to mind when you envision a tarot card reader, this guy wasn't it. Evening, ladies, you all look like you're having a fine time. We are. Oh, yeah. Have you ever had a good night moonshine? One of those nights is it? Was Frank at the bar? Yes, yes.

He has heavy hands, though, because I think he poured a wee bit much for us, but it's fine. Smarty, girl, you have to enjoy a little libation. Yeah, so, okay, listen, we want to take you up on your services. See here, our friend needs to know her future, and we think you're just the man to help. And, who knows? Maybe if you play your cards right, you might get to read all of our futures. Wow, I haven't heard that one before. So you, you're the chosen one.

Apparently so. Just have a seat here. What's your name? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why aren't you supposed to know that from the cards? This is Terra Cards, honey. I'm not a psychic. Geraldine, my name is Geraldine.

Well, Geraldine, have you ever done a reading? Uh, no. Wonderful. You're in for a treat. Let's see what's in store for you. The girls all took their seats by the table, and the reader brought out his deck. Occasionally a passerby on the street would stop and gaze at the scene or call out to the girls. But for most, it was just another site on Bourbon Street. Okay, Geraldine, rest your hands on the table here.

I want you to take a few deep breaths, focus on something that's been on your mind, leave. Doesn't have to be deep, just whatever's taking up space. The reader began to shuffle the cards, moving his hand swiftly. It was an impressive sight. You should be in Vegas with that shuffling. I'm connecting with the deck. The deck is not a static thing. Okay, Jol Dene, you have your mindset on something?

I do, yes. Here we go. He began dealing the cards and creating the spread. The first card. The fool. No, no, it's not what you think. This is about beginnings, new paths, not foolishness, really, just a leap of faith. The sun, that's one of the best ones you can get.

Optimism, clarity, success. So basically, she's amazing and we all suck. Stop. Shut up. Speak for your mouth. You've got good energy. Things are shifting for you, but in a positive way. Just don't overthink what's coming next. The lovers. All right. The man in your life will influence an upcoming decision. That's what I'm talking about.

You already know who he is. Wow. Now that's some CIA level intel, okay? I'm next. I'm next for sure. Exactly. Gerald, and here's what I see. We're being primed for new experiences. There is a light and a new energy coming your way. Things are going to be shifting.

And this man in your life, whoever he is, he's important. He has a big role to play in your life. Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow. Okay, honestly, I'll take that. Hear that, ladies? Yeah. The man is going to play a big role in my life.

Yes. Best $20 I am. ever wasted. Right. Well, you know what? That was illuminating. Rachel, pay the man. I got it. And let's get a drink. It's been almost an hour since my last one, and that's just not right. Right now, I want to pause to honor man's best friend. Our furry companions that love us, even if we've been feeding them mystery meat, or whatever's in that package, for far too long. Now, if you love your pup, it's time to start feeding them food from Ali. Ollie food features human-grade recipes backed by vet nutritionists and it's crafted with culinary experts. Dogs love the taste. Even the pickiest

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pleased with their first night's exploits. The next morning, they headed out for breakfast. The French Market District of New Orleans features a striking landmark, the famous golden statue of St. Joan of Arc. The statue depicts the young heroine of France in full battle armor. Seated on horseback, her right arm raised high above her head, holding the battle standard. Gilded entirely in gold, it catches the Louisiana sunlight by day and the glow of the street lamps by night. Resting on a high concrete pedestal, the effect is almost mystical.

The maid of France seems supernaturally alive, her body glowing against the muted colors and shadows of the quarter. In the clamor of the busy French market, the statue's majesty almost seems to silence everything around it. commanding the attention and awe of all who pass by. The statue is across the street from another famous New Orleans landmark, Café du Monde, where our three friends were headed for their famous chicory coffee and bignettes. As the girls approach Café de Monde, they saw the statue and headed over for a photo.

There she is, you guys, Joan of Arc. Finally, I've been dying to see this statue in person. You two are ridiculous. How do you even know this was here? Excuse me? Some of us have a deep personal connection with the native one in the... Uh, yeah, we literally became her. Well, one of us did.

Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot you two were in that high school play. That high school play? It was Saint-Jean by George Bernard Shaw's senior year. Thank you very much. And don't forget best supporting actress for my riveting portrayal of the bishop of Beauvais, which the Griffin Gazette called transcendent. You mean that dipshit who burned St. Joan, me alive?

How could I forget? Emily, how could you? Wow. She's even more beautiful than I imagined. Look at her face. I mean, she has no fear. Yeah, it's like she knows exactly where she's going. Or like she's daring anyone to stop her. How do you say, come at me in French? Oh, I loved being in that play. I hear you.

It was my favorite high school. Hey, look, see, the chalk writing there, the base, that Jeet-Thame? Yeah, what is you? Saint-Jame. I love you, St. John. Oh, so sweet. A teenage girl commanding French armies to the glory of God? I mean, how can you not love her?

It's just fucking graffiti on a fucking cross-dresser's statue. What's the big deal? What? Ger, are you for real? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. Geraldine's rude and unexpected comments about Joan of Arc left Emily and Rachel in bewilderment.

Her words were so shocking that for a moment, the noise of the busy markets seemed to disappear into complete silence. Geraldine seemed as shocked as her friends. She stood motionless, her expression blank, her cheeks losing color. It was as though she had been an observer to her own voice. Listening to words that weren't hers. She nervously tried to laugh it off, but she couldn't find the right tone to make it seem like a joke. I think someone needs a coffee.

Yeah, yeah, sorry, guys. You know how I am before my caffeine. You work good. girl. Come on ladies, Café Dumont awaits. And now, friends, may I present you the world famous Café Dumont. And what a gorgeous morning. These vignets smell amazing. Yeah, baby. They're still steaming. Give me some. You know, Café Dumont is the only coffee my dad ever bought. Really? Really? Really? Really? It's bright orange can next to the coffee maker. Honestly, it's surreal to be here. Literally the one coffee my dad would ever buy. You know, I've never,

never had it before. It tastes, yeah, different. What is that? It's chicory. They blended in with the coffee here. My dad was obsessed. He even switched grocery stores just because ours didn't carry it. Oh my God. Wait, your dad did the shopping? Yeah. Tang girl. Any man doing the shopping's a keeper. Okay, okay. I'm dying for a bignet. Give me. Give me, give me, give me, give me. Wait, wait, okay, hang on, guys. What are we, heathens? We haven't even blessed the food. So, let's do this right. You're right. We've got amazing friends. amazing hotel and amazing food. And it's perfect weather.

So let's say a prayer before we eat and give God thanks. We owe that much. Okay. Okay, you're right. Let's do it, girl. Okay. Lord, we thank you for making this trip happen. We thank you for the time we're able to spend together,

and we thank you for this delicious food. Yes, thank you, God. Which we ask you to bless. In Jesus' name, amen. Amen. Yes. Waiting for Geraldine's Amen that never came. looked up and saw the strangest expression on Geraldine's face.

It was as if the lights weren't on. She stared blankly across the table. Geraldine? Are you good? Geraldine? Are you good? Gerald. Jerr? Earth to Geraldine. Earth to Geraldine. We're over here. Yes. I'm fine. Wake up, girl. Can we eat? Yeah, you just had this weird look on your face for us.

Yeah, you were like a... I said I'm fine, bitch. What the fuck is the hassle? Drop it. Jared. Wow. What the hell? Are you okay? Hey, Jared, let's just let it go. What's wrong with me? Are you feeling all right?

Yeah, you're okay? Maybe. Maybe I just, I had too much to drink last night, or I'm more tired than I thought. Seriously, let's eat. I'm sorry, everyone. Yeah. Okay. In the early stages of a demonic attack,

as the enemy works to gain leverage and build momentum, there's typically a shift in the victim's character. This only makes sense. As the dramatic parasite presses inward, traces of its start to leak out through words, expressions, and emotions that will be foreign and out of character. These may be subtle or not so subtle, but always leave those closest to the victim puzzled

and often even the victim herself. In Geraldine's case, twice in a single morning, she spoke with a cruelty and intensity she neither intended nor desired. She hadn't planned to say those things and didn't recognize her own voice when she did. And her two friends? Well, they had no framework for what they had just seen and heard. To Rachel and Emily, the cause was lightly a mood, a hangover, fatigue.

What no one knew yet, was that Geraldine's outbursts were the first sign that something dark had latched onto her and was beginning to work its way inside. Later that afternoon, the girls made their way towards one of the most iconic religious landmarks in all of New Orleans, the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis, King of France. Standing tall at the edge of Jackson Square, its triple steeples and white facade create one of the most recognizable silhouettes in the French Quarter. Built in 1789 and later expanded in the 1850s,

St. Louis Cathedral is the oldest continually active Catholic Cathedral in the United States. Its walls have seen revolutions, endured hurricanes, hosted a papal visit, and heard centuries of prayer. The moment you step inside, the noise of the quarter falls away replaced by the hush of a house of God adorned with a vaulted ceiling, tall stained glass windows, and the perpetual scent of incense soaked into ancient wood. Look at that ceiling and those windows.

Oh my gosh. They're stunning. And that's Saint Louis up there, right? The king? Oui? Yeah, Louis the Knight. The only French king who became a saint. Now what made him so special?

Well, he was a great king. He had a heart for the poor and for justice. And they say that he would invite 13 of the poorest people he could find to eat with him in the palace every day. Really? Yeah. What a boss. Well, you know what? Now this is my new favorite church.

So let's be honest. Monarchy has had mixed results for humanity over the years. For most of history, if you had a ruler who just left you alone to farm in peace, and kept the barbarian hordes out of your village for a fee, well, that was a big win. For many, though, their kings, queens, emperors, and czars have led them into terrible destitution, wars, and ruled with iron fists, not unlike the war scenes from Game of Thrones. But then, every now and then, you win the royal jackpot. Lewis the 9th was a total rock star.

Louis the 9th, also known as St. Louis, reigned as King of France from 1226 to 1270, ascending the throne at the ripe old age of 12, the age of 12, the age of 12th, the age of the age of most of us start to think we should rule, but he actually got to. After his father, Louis the 8th's death and ruling from Paris with his mother, Blanche of Castile, as regent until adulthood. Lewis was a warrior. He led campaigns as far west as Egypt and knew firsthand the tragedies of war. So many kings have been fine to sit by and send armies to their death, but Lewis knew the horrors of war himself. But even more than his military and governing exploits, he is beloved for the way he tried to model Christ. He instituted major justice reforms and,

had a huge heart for the poor. He built hospitals, churches to house holy relics, and would even wash beggars' feet on Holy Thursday as a symbol of the serving king. Lewis also left us a little treasure. It's a gift in the form of a letter he penned to his son on how to govern wisely as a Christian ruler. Listen to the first principle he admonishes his son to bind on his heart. Quote, therefore, dear son, the first thing I advise is that you fix your whole heart upon God and love him with all your strength. For without this, no one can be saved or be of any worth. What a guy.

And last but not least, for those Cardinals or former Rams fans, yes, St. Louis, Missouri is named after King Louis, truly a king that has us all saying, geez, Luis. While Geraldine lagged behind near the entrance, Rachel and Emily wandered down the right aisle, pausing to study each stained glass window as they passed. Rachel knelt in one of the pews closing her eyes in prayer. Emily knelt beside her hands folded, offering her own petitions. Let's say a prayer for Jer. I want to say I feel like something is up with her.

Yeah, yes, for sure. Okay. Lord, this place is beautiful. Thank you so much for this trip, God. And Lord, I don't know what's up with Jerr. but God please, please be with our friend. Yeah, be with her. Amen. Amen.

They continued to make their way to the front of the cathedral. Once they reached the baptismal font with the statue of St. Joseph above it, they lit a votive candle. Turning left, they passed the main altar, genuflected in front of the tabernacle, and crossed themselves, and continued towards the statue of Our Lady of Prompt Secure. where they each lit another candle. Now, on the left side of the church, they stopped to look at that row of stained glass windows

as they made their way back to the cathedral entrance. Once in the vestibule, they entered the gift shop, filled with shelves of sacramentals and devotional souvenirs. Oh, my gosh, look at these rosaries. Oh, they're beautiful. Let me think of this one. That's really nice. Yeah, I actually want to find my dad a St. Michael medal. Now that man, he needs him heavily backup.

Honestly, same. Oh, and these candles are adorable. Should we get Jared to look at these? Speaking of which, where is our girl? I actually don't know. Well, I haven't even seen her since we came into the church. Yeah, she was right behind us when we came in. Maybe she's in the bathroom?

I don't know. Let me... Nope. She's not entering her phone. Okay. I'll just go check the bathroom. The cathedral isn't large, but the high arches and windows

create a sense of vastness. Emily and Rachel scanned the pews as they made their way towards the altar, scanning for Geraldine as they went. Suddenly, the silence was pierced by a loud cackling. Well, wait, wait, Rachel. Look. Is that Jair?

Jair? What is she doing? That is not like her. No, it's not. This is cute. They followed the strange sound towards the front right side of the cathedral by the baptismal font, where a large life-size crucifix hangs on the wall. It is a haunting image of Christ crucified,

depicting the Lord in the moment he had released his last breath and given up his spirit. it. His sacred body slouches forward, and his holy face has entered the sleep of death. They found her sitting in a pew, hunched forward, one hand propping herself up against the back of the pew on which she was sitting, the other pointing upwards towards the crucifix. She was laughing, convulsing hysterically. The kind of ridiculous laughter that steals your breath. From the strain, her face was a deep breath. her eyes watering, her whole body shaking with spasms of amusement that simply made no sense. His face! I just look at his face.

Chair, what's going on? Chair, this isn't funny. No one. Breathe, girl, breathe. Hey, hey, come on. This was not the laughter of someone amused at a joke. It was the laughter of someone who had lost all control. laughter that didn't belong in a sacred place.

Laughter that didn't belong to Geraldine at all. It was a mockery. Jer, hey, stop. Okay? You're scaring me. It's just so stupid. Just look. You're looking at his face.

Rachel and Emily pulled up their friend and began leading her to the exit at the back of the cathedral. Geraldine continued laughing hysterically as she walked. at times almost losing her balance. On the wall to the left of the main doors stands the cathedral's own statue of St. Junivar. While it is not gilded in gold like the one in the French market, and standing at five feet high is much smaller,

it is beautifully carved and elegant. It depicts the maid of Orleans in full battle armor, gazing upward as though awaiting a command from heaven. As though someone had flipped in an end, invisible switch inside her. When the three of them reached sight of that statue, Geraldine froze. Her laughter stopped mid-breath. Her shoulders pulled back, her spine straightened, and her face drained moments ago from hysterical gasps, hardened like she was locking eyes with an enemy who had just made a threat. The silliness that had been on her face was now replaced

by cold, focused hatred. Hey, Gerard, what is it? Hey, what, are you okay? What are you looking at? What in the hell is the matter with you? Geraldine's eyes were fixed, unblinking on the statue of Joan. Her jaw tightened, her nostrils flared, and her expression, far from amusement, had become one of open, simmering hostility.

Her again. Who again? The girl. Jared. You're freaking me out, okay? Come on, hon. Look at me. Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Come on, Jer. Hey, look at me. Look at me. Look at me. Get her up their arm now. Okay, hey, I've got it. Come on.

You never. I'm going to try you. Ger. Come, Ger. Ger. Hey, Ger. We're leaving, okay. We're leaving right now.

They couldn't pry Geraldine's eyes off the statue of Joan of Arc. She just glared at it. Finally, it took both of them, to force her outside. Okay, okay, outside. Now, let's go. Rachel, call the ride chair. Already did.

We'll be here shortly, let's just get her back to the hotel. Chair, sweetheart, come and walk with us, okay? We're right here. Just breathe. Don't look back. She was staring at me. Who was staring at you? That nasty slut was staring at me.

What are you talking about? statue, Jer. Okay, okay, here. Lean on me. There you go. There's our car. Hey, over here. Thank God. Okay, Jer, we're going to head back to the hotel now. Okay? Let's just get you out of here before anything else weird happens, okay? In scripture, the Apostle Paul laments that he often does what he doesn't want to do, and he doesn't do what he should. Was he talking about using rocket money to cancel unwanted subscriptions and balancing the budget? Of course not. But hey, if you wrestle with that, then boy, have we got a partner for you. That's right. Rocket Money is a personal finance app that helps find and cancel your unwanted subscriptions, monitors your spending, and helps lower

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How is it that the demoniac is mocking, laughing hysterically Christ, but then utter rage and contempt towards a saint? Wouldn't we expect the demon to have even more rage and contempt for Christ's work on the cross? Father helps shed some light on this apparent contradiction. Demons mock Christ because they cannot defeat him. They tried, they failed, signed, sealed, delivered. The victory that Christ gained over them is eternal and absolute. The only thing that God is that we're left for them is mockery. He likens it to a petulant toddler's tantrum. It's meaningless, and Christ is not threatened. But saints, saints are a different story. Saints aren't untouchable divinity. They're not infinite. They're not God himself. They are creatures. They were fragile. They

were tempted. And yet, they won. They resisted the enemy. They had their choice and they chose wisely, defeating the very thing that Geraldine had inadvertently invited inside her. And that incites a whole new level of terror to the realm of the demonic. According to Father Martins, when a demon looks at a saint, he's staring directly at its own humiliation. Not the cosmic humiliation, the general defeat of all darkness, but rather a personal defeat, the kind delivered by someone who shared our human weakness and still overcame every assault of evil.

It's like if my pickup team lost to the Lakers, I'd be upset. But if I lost to a seventh grade middle school team, well, that would sting way more. That's why the laughter stopped the instant Geraldine past Joan's statute, because mockery wasn't enough anymore. Mockery only works on something you cannot defeat. But Joan of Arc, Satan simply failed to best her. Therefore, she remains a threat, and a statue depicting her is an intense humiliation. Christ, of course, is our model. He lived a perfect life.

But in a strange way, the saints at times may serve as a more perfect model, precisely because they are imperfect. A saint is proof that the enemy can be beaten by a mere human being with all the weaknesses of human possesses, just like you and me. Until what happened at the cathedral, Emily and Rachel attributed Geraldine's irritability and grumpiness to lack of sleep and the fact that she was going through her, quote-unquote, time of the month. But now they were certain they needed to take her to the hospital. And then, just like that, as they wrote,

back to the hotel, Geraldine shifted again. Suddenly, she returned to normal. She started casually talking about the trip, asking about sites they drove by, and what the plan was for dinner. All like nothing had happened. So what's the plan tonight, guys? Um, uh, what? What? What? What? Gerith, we are taking you to the hospital. Why? Because, whatever is that? Happening with you? Something is wrong, Ger. You're not well. What do you mean? I'm fine. Um, we just had to shove you out of a cathedral while you went berserk on a statue. What? I did what?

Geraldine looked confused and said she barely remembered the cathedral at all. She remembered them walking into the cathedral, but her next memory was being inside the ride share. She had no recollection of the laughter, the gasping, the mocking of the crucifix and the confrontation she had with Joan of Arc statue. Even her accusation that Joan of Arc was staring at her, she didn't recall. Emily and Rachel had no idea what to think. Memory loss of that kind was not normal. Neither was Geraldine's behavior. And neither was the way she now insisted that she felt fine and refused to go to the hospital. Yet for the remainder of the day, Geraldine behaved with complete normalcy. She showed no confusion,

no irritability, no lingering physical strain. She changed clothes, tidied her belongings, and suggested they go out to eat. Her gait was steady, her voice carried its usual tone, her expression was relaxed and untroubled. Throughout the afternoon, the three of them walked through the French Quarter, Brow small boutiques, sampled prelines from a corner shop and sat briefly in Jackson Square watching a street performer juggle fire. Geraldine laughed at something Rachel pointed out, a small natural laugh that sounded like her own, and not the unhinged hysteria from earlier. Her appetite was fine at dinner. She ate without difficulty and spoke freely, showing no signs of emotional instability or physical discomfort. She even

commented on the beauty of the sunset over the river, a remark so ordinary and sincere that it almost soothed the memory of the cathedral. The next day they flew back. Geraldine's boyfriend, Kevin, picked her up at the airport. The return flight was uneventful, and she moved through the airport with the efficiency of someone back in familiar surroundings. Kevin was waiting for her at the curb, waving the moment he saw her emerge with her suitcase. Yes! There's my raging Cajun. Oh, welcome home, babe. Oh, here, let me grab that.

Hi. Good to be home. Wow. I mean, you should leave me more often. So, how was your trip? It was great. I wish we had another day there. Well, let's check their GPS here.

Oh, we are so taking the five freeway. Oh, okay. So, uh, tell you. Tell me about it. That is what you're allowed to share with me from the Ladies Weekend. Well, I loved it. New Orleans is great. I mean, the food, the history. It's so beautiful. You and I need to go. Oh, yeah. I just don't know if I can join a Ladies Weekend. Sounds amazing. And, well, how are Emily and Rachel? They're good.

So, you know, they texted me. Oh, geez. Okay, okay. They're just being dramatic. What happened? I don't, I don't know. I don't know. I think I was just tired, hungry, whatever. I don't, I just didn't feel like myself for a bit, and I think I was going mental. I don't know. It was just like low blood sugar or something. Fair? Probably. Are you okay?

I'm fine. I'm fine. We all have off days. Whatever. I'm just glad. be back with you. Speaking of a little blood sugar, shall we dying? You sell get me. Euros? A Euro? A trip it is.

I missed you. Geraldine lived alone in a small rented house. A film buff, she converted the basement into an entertainment room, complete with a large, comfortable couch from which she enjoyed watching movies. After returning from her trip, life proceeded as normal. and on the third day back, she settled down in the late evening to watch one of her favorite films. She always kept the hallway lights on during a movie, so the room would be dark but not totally black. She started the movie and about 20 minutes into the picture, the lights suddenly clicked off,

as if someone flipped the hallway switch. The sound startled her because no one else was in the house. It couldn't be that the power went out because the TV was still on. Besides, she heard the click of the switch. She got up to check it. Sure enough, the switch was in the off position. She flipped it the other way, and the lights came back on. She went back to the movie.

Two minutes later, the lights switched off again. Now she was scared. She got up to check the switch again, but before she reached it, she heard another click, and the lights were suddenly on again. When she sat down again, they turned off. Her heart was now in her throat pounding. Twenty seconds later, another, and the lights were on again.

Believing in the supernatural, Geraldine strongly suspected that this was the work of some spirit. She recalled a conversation she had with one of her neighbors a few months after moving into her home. A neighbor mentioned that one of the house's previous owners thought it was haunted. Thinking perhaps she was actually encountering a ghost, Geraldine said something she never should have.

If you're a good spirit, turn the lights back on. If you're bad, leave them off. Some will object here and say, Father, I've heard you say that it's fine to command demons to leave our home, to leave our children and other relatives alone, or to leave us in peace. that's speaking to them, isn't it? It is true that I said that,

and it's not only fine to say those things, I would absolutely encourage you to say them. However, those are imperative commands that you are giving a demon. They are not a conversation in which you are engaging. There's an enormous difference. I never dialogue with a demon, ever. Even during an exorcism.

By that, I mean, I never respond to his questions. I never reply to his accusations, and I never entertain his legitimacy of being a conversation partner. But more than that, it grants him legal rights. If you are conversing with me about casual things, chuckles the demon, then it means we're friends. And if we're friends, then I have the right to be here.

A command is a one-way current, whereas conversation is a two-way current. conversation enmeshes one relationally with the demon. While I will correct the lies a demon puts forward, correction is not conversation. Truth is declared, not discussed. The church's wisdom is clear. Our Christian authority is exercised through command, not conversation. Engaging the demon grants him standing,

commanding him denies it. So when Geraldine's light switch started firing off, it wasn't a malfunction. It was an answer. Not to a question Geraldine asked, but to an invitation she never realized she extended. Jaded, Geraldine turned off the movie and went to bed. She did something she had never done before.

She locked her bedroom door after closing it. Living alone, she never saw the need before, but now she felt afraid in her own home. The next morning, she awoke and went to work as she always did. The thought of returning home, however, made her anxious. She phoned Kevin and asked if he could take the day off work. He agreed and offered to pick her up, but she insisted on driving herself there. In terms of oddities, they spent an uneventful day together. They did some grocery shopping and went for a walk.

Geraldine also took a nap in the afternoon. In the evening, the order takeout and Kevin opened a bottle of wine. One thing led to another, and it led to Geraldine spending the night and all that goes along with that. In the morning, she went to the bathroom to use the toilet. When she was finished, she rose and reached for the handle to flush. But then she looked down. Inside the bull were dozens of long black worms writhing through her waist,

so many that the mass of worms outnumbered the mast of the waist itself. The stench that rose was horrific. Disgusted and shocked, she flushed and turned around to wash her hands. Then she saw it. The mirror was now fogged despite no one having had a shower. written in the condensation clear as day where the words, my daughter. And now we must leave Geraldine

to reflect on the question, mirror, mirror, on the wall, why did I play tarot cards at all? We will see you next week for part two of our trip down to the Big Easy. Until then, may we recommend Uno instead of tarot, but to be clear, Uno Demon is still no point no. You've been listening to The Exorcist Files. To get some of our anointed merchandise, you can visit us at Exorcistfiles.

TV. And of course, leave us some of that coveted, absurd, and overly specific criticism. You can email that to ExorcistFiles at gmail.com. And if you want to listen to this ad free next time and early, you can sign up for The Vault, which supports the show and ensures you get your fix of Exorcist Files content all year long. Also, if you haven't, follow us on the gram. Share the show. Sign up for emails. Do it all by clicking the notes in the show. Our talented actors today put their heart and soul into this. We want to thank Tiffany Gist for playing the role of Emily, Emily Timmer for playing the role of Rachel, Alexis Molnar for playing Geraldine, Aracio Abra, as the tarot card reader, and Danny Fahenzelt for the role of Kevin.

Our music, mastering, and engineering was done by the incredible team at Hunt Recording Studio by Dan Blesinger and Michelle Martinez. Music and scoring by Jim Cavell and Tom Straeli. The script was written by Father Carlos Martens and Ryan Bithae and based off a case file from Father Martin's own archives. Executive producers are Ryan Bithae and Father Carlos Martins. Stay demon free, y'all. Thank you.