Unlike many ritualists, I have not had much success with the Goetic spirits, save for one whom I’ll address a bit later. These are commonly seen as the demons of which we have a working knowledge and of whom experiential accounts are readily available, both online and in literature. Spirits of other pantheons (for lack of a better term) are generally lesser known and viewed by some as more unpredictable and dangerous. I have found, however, that the risk one takes when performing an evocation is generally of a similar nature, regardless of what grimoire one recites the words from.
So, setting aside the Goetia for now, I’ve worked with spirits from the Profane Seals grimoire provided by the Maergzjirah Cabal, the Tabella plumbea Traguriensis, the Grimorium Verum, and one demon mentioned in ancient Zoroastrian and Zurvanite texts. Some of these evocations have gone smoothly (indeed, one was much more subtle than I had expected), while another gave me genuine disorientation and unrest. One in particular opened a door that I had neither intended nor expected, putting me in the throes of demonic oppression. In some of the posts to come on this website over the next few weeks, I’ll mention several of the demons and will detail some of the experiences I’ve had (others I’d prefer to keep private, and as such I won’t share those here).
Barsafael
Barsafael was the first demon I had success in evoking, and it
was during a time when I was an absolute novice. I still view myself as a mere
student of the occult, but at the time I could count on one hand the number of
proper rituals I had performed. In this case, I contacted the spirit not seeking
knowledge or personal gain, but vengeance against someone who had become a
significant roadblock in my success at work and my emotional wellbeing.
This particular demon is mentioned in the Tabella plumbea Traguriensis and The Testament of Solomon, in which he is associated with the power to inflict migraines. In truth, it goes far beyond this, with the spirit’s repertoire encompassing the full spectrum of the mind and consciousness. Barsafael is able to unsettle and unravel the mind, ravaging the sanity of one’s enemy and leaving cerebral sickness, fear, or torment in its wake. He is able to ensnare one’s thoughts in psychic energy so profound that it alters their very beliefs, decisions, and perception. He is able to put wicked thoughts in an otherwise pure head, or numb and stupefy areas of the brain where intellect and creativity once flourished.
I evoked Barsafael with the intention of asking him to assault the mind of a person I hated, albeit temporarily – enough to derail their career and remove them as an obstacle from my own life; thenceforth, the demon’s hold over them could be relinquished and they could go on and do as they pleased – far away from me. I was not prepared for how afraid I felt when the demon made his presence known, nor the speed with which he manifested. I had scarcely finished reciting the incantation when I felt an intense drop in atmospheric pressure, as if before a storm. I felt cold and quickly but briefly ridden with a sense of vertigo. Something clenched in my stomach and my mouth went dry – whether these feelings were due to my fear or the acausal energy being drawn into the room, I can’t say for sure.
As I finished the incantation, there was a feeling of “settling,” as if a kind of consciousness was blanketing the entire room. I was struck with a definitive sense of being watched and something in me just knew that I was no longer alone. Out of respect I willed myself to continue to focus on the altar straight ahead of me, and on Barsafael’s sigil, one that I had drawn in a sort of trance-like state, letting my hand be put into motion by what skeptics would call the ideomotor effect, but which I knew to be a dark spiritual guidance (it was during this time that I had felt the first inklings of fear in my chest).
What I can remember, I tried later to capture in a drawing (pictured, left) as I venerated the demon in my artwork. I saw a figure that seemed to emerge as though sculpted from the wall above the altar, but it was faint and painful to the eyes, like seeing bright afterimages seconds after you’ve looked at snow – except that instead of being like a stamp of light across my vision, it was inverted – a kind of ‘glowing darkness’ (I’m aware of the inherent contradiction here) that seemed to draw itself inward through the wall. It felt like it was pulling my vision with it, distorting and altering the size and depth of everything else around it and shoving every material thing I could see to the peripheries in a way that I can never satisfactorily explain.
I remember there being appendages coming out of the head that could have been antennae or horns or hair. On his torso were large faces that seemed to appear in the dozens, all seemingly either superimposed over one another or shifting from one to the next so quickly that my eyes couldn’t properly perceive the speed. I remember three limbs extending from his lower body that seemed to switch or transform between human legs, animal legs, and a lack thereof – again, this latter part I have real trouble with describing, but when this happened, it would almost seem like there was a reflection of a splinter or edge of a leg both above and below where the actual leg had just been, but in the space where the leg was supposed to be, there was this kind of imploding, two-dimensional blackness.
I actually don’t remember how much time passed as I tried to behold him, I just know that I was missing time when I later finished the ritual. It felt like he had taken my head off my body and transported it to another plane of existence, because I couldn’t feel my body in the moment, only the pain that coursed through my head. This is why in my artwork I depicted severed human heads chained to the demon’s side. The triangular black void behind him in the image represents all of the remaining physicality that I could not comprehend.
What you have to understand is that what I was “seeing,” I was witnessing in a way that defies any form of observation you can readily understand, and as I said at the beginning of this post, there is a lack of appropriate language I can use to relate what I experienced. The final thing that comes to mind is a series of detached mouths that could have been anywhere on Barsafael’s figure, or perhaps were separate from him and appeared on yet another dimensional plane that my mind could not fully grasp; I simply remember chattering mouths with gnashing teeth and flickering tongues and streams of spittle that seemed to be yelling in a cacophony of voices. Some of these voices would stay with me long after I completed the ritual, almost like snippets of human mental torment played on a loop that seemed to come from a far distance.
I felt a definitive sense of dismissal, as though the spirit could sense my fear and thus he found me unworthy of attention, and indeed, at that moment I felt something ebbing away, like he was beginning to take his leave. I didn’t speak then, but I made my wish known to him with my thoughts – yet again, in a way I can’t full describe; you could say it was telepathic, but even that is insufficient in summing up the nature of the exchange. The best way I can relate the end result to you is this way: I gave something of my mind, and received something in return; a kind of energy. I could then will that energy and its intended purpose toward the person I was targeting. I somehow knew to do this, and by the time I had finished, Barsafael was gone.
The experience was altogether more intense, more elusive (memory-wise), and more abrupt in its conclusion than I ever could have imagined before it happened. I very much felt that Barsafael had not so much “worked with me” as he had thrown a bone to a needy but meddlesome and naïve child; that he had the intention of both assuaging the nagging feeling that my clumsy, first-time evocation had caused him, and of showing me the intensity of the acausal and demonic, as if to challenge me to continue pursuing The Black Work. The eventual result, however, was that things went exactly as I’d hoped when it came to the person I was targeting. The person had a mental breakdown and was thus pulled out of my way, making a path open up to me and elevating my position amongst certain people.
I didn’t come away from the evocation unscathed, however. The aforementioned chattering, cacophonous mouths seemed to stay in the farthest recesses of my mind, and for a long time I could hear faint “events” somewhere in the distance (in actuality, likely on a spiritual plane). I’ve mentioned residual hauntings – echoes or shades of people who once lived; this felt more like residual terrors or deaths – hearing things that once happened on this Earth replay over and over on a loop. I heard a woman scream and plead for something – it sounded like it was coming from outside, far below my 19th floor apartment, but seemed to change direction based on which way I turned; I would hear this exact same “event” play on numerous occasions, not only in my apartment, but when I was outside, when I had traveled to other cities, etc.
This is only one example of some of the distant terrors I would
hear, and some of the others disturbed me to the extent that I won’t mention
them here. This was not my last encounter with Barsafael, but it was my first.
It left its mark on me and I still don’t feel that this mark is truly gone. I’m
going to wrap up this post here, but I’ll share more of my experiences in the
days and weeks to come. Infernal Hails.