Roger and Carolyn Perron purchased the home of their dreams and eventual nightmares in December of 1970. The Arnold Estate, located just beyond the village of Harrisville, Rhode Island seemed the idyllic setting in which to raise a family. The couple unwittingly moved their five young daughters into the ancient and mysterious farmhouse. Secrets were kept and then revealed within a space shared by mortal and immortal alike. Time suddenly became irrelevant; fractured by spirits making their presence known then dispersing into the ether. The house is a portal to the past and a passage to the future. This is a sacred story of spiritual enlightenment, told some thirty years hence. The family is now somewhat less reticent to divulge a closely-guarded experience. Their odyssey is chronicled by the eldest sibling and is an unabridged account of a supernatural excursion. Ed and Lorraine Warren investigated this haunting in a futile attempt to intervene on their behalf. They consider the Perron family saga to be one of the most compelling and significant of a famously ghost-storied career as paranormal researchers. During a seance gone horribly wrong, they unleashed an unholy hostess; the spirit called Bathsheba; a God-forsaken soul. Perceiving herself to be the mistress of the house, she did not appreciate the competition. Carolyn had long been under siege; overt threats issued in the form of fire a mother's greatest fear. It transformed the woman in unimaginable ways. After nearly a decade the family left a once beloved home behind though it will never leave them, as each remains haunted by a memory. This tale is an inspiring testament to the resilience of the human spirit on a pathway of discovery: an eternal journey for the living and the dead. House of Darkness House of Light The True Story Volume Three By Andrea Perron AuthorHouse Copyright © 2014 Andrea Perron All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4918-2990-5 Contents The Trilogy, Prologue in Prayer, A Proper Introduction, I. A Place in the Country, II. Fire in the Hole, III. Wicked Woman ... Evil Ways, IV. Spooked, V. Ghostly Cries and Whispers, VI. Down the Hatch, VII. Warren Peace, VIII. Bless Me Father, IX. Rock On with your Bad Self, X. A Fly on the Wall, Confluence, Epilogue in Epitaph, In Gratitude, CHAPTER 1 ROCK ON WITH YOUR BAD SELF "Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." Romans xii. 21 Stone walls rock and roll across the New England countryside as a fixture within pastoral views. When born and raised in bucolic New England, these remarkable structures are nothing unusual, rather, a normal part of life as the ancient markers that separate farmland, establish boundaries and decorate the landscape. If good fences make for good neighbors, then stone walls make the very best fences, impervious to the elements. They create a patch-worked landscape with slabs of stone the land yielded, remnants of the last Ice Age. Of course, they've served a purpose as a means of keeping cows in pastures while providing the necessary barrier for other creatures as well. Still, when one examines any well-planned well-built stone wall it's a wonder to behold, something to admire. Students of this Colonial Era know the backbreaking history. They know slaves and indentured servants built the majority of these labor-intensive lines in the sand, one stone at a time, every edifice erected with far more than a few drops of blood, sweat and tears. Within the broad strokes of human creativity, stone walls are those fine lines of history etched upon the Earth. They have a story to tell. They've left a mark on the planet. To be sure, they are a normal part of everyday life in rural New England but the walls enclosing the backyard at the farm were supernatural in nature. If only these rocks could talk ... but they did. Talking rocks did more than that. They sang and played like the children, as an instrument accompanying wind song within a magical valley. Stone walls were an integral part of the whole big picture, a gift, as an elemental reflection, grand relics with a telltale past. "The primary beauty of silence becomes audible in the elemental music of the earth." John O'Donohue Inclined to venture forth out onto the massive property, this family soon learned the intricacies of a framework of art, following the walls to sacred spots, walking with them into the woods. There is a place behind the house which yields a magic all its own, a spot that reveals the true power of nature, intermingling as it does with its walls of stone whenever they perform an interlude, in concert with the wind. The children heard it first and wondered about the origin, unable to identify a source of the sound. No one recognized it. As foreign as it was enticing, it produced a trance-inducing tune when the land was laden with fresh fallen snow. During their first winter at the farm, one storm after another blew through, gale force winds usheri