they're always with us

The Warren’s Occult Museum

Open since 1952 when the Warren’s founded the New England Society for Psychic Research, the ever expanding collection of knick-knacks and artifacts that had been touched by evil is kept in the basement of their own home. The Warrens were popular lecturers in their day when they were not delving into such high profile cases of demonic mischief as the Amityville haunting, the murderer who claimed demonic possession as his defense, and the exorcism of the witch Bathsheba (a case which was most recently portrayed in the film, The Conjuring, which also featured a version of the museum). Throughout these cases the Warrens collected trinkets and totems they claim were defiled by evil, locking them in the museum to keep them safe from the public.

For 60 years, the Warrens have been collecting relics from the hauntings they’ve studied. “Many of the objects in this room here have had dire effects on people,” Ed told a tour in the mid-’90s. “People have been maimed and killed.” The museum hits the witching hour between 9 p.m. and 6 a.m., when, according to Ed, the nighttime goings on can occasionally be heard a few floors above in their bedroom. The eccentric collection contains everything from an alleged vampire’s coffin to a child’s tombstone which was said have been used as a satanic altar. Death curses, demon masks, and psychic photographs line the walls of the museum accented by a Halloween store’s bounty of plastic props (assumedly for mood). However, the most prevalent item seems to be cursed dolls. In addition a number of nameless toys, the museum’s centerpiece is the Raggedy Ann doll by the name of Annabelle, which was said to have killed a man. Annabelle sits in her own glass case, backlit by a haunting red light. Looking at the Warren’s collection one might begin to thing that Hell has a thing for dolls.    

Unfortunately Ed Warren passed away in 2006, but the museum is still tended to by Lorraine Warren and their son. Whether or not one believes in the paranormal, the Warren’s Occult Museum may be one of the preeminent chronicles of modern culture’s obsession with the supernatural. Of course it could also be just a spooky collection of stuff in an elderly woman’s basement. 

 ‘ that tour bus is not in the least bit accurate. ’

  ( might as well introduce himself; he ALREADY seems like some FREAK. )

 ‘ sorry, i just really admire this house. it has a lot of history.    plus … i’m into the odd, gothic shit. ’

  ( raises a hand from his pocket to rub at his nose, still sore from last night’s  drug escapade, before picking a Marlboro out from his shirt pocket. his custom  engraved lighter ignites it - smoke pouring from it’s end. )

 ‘ i’m michael. ’

              Maisie had seen it all before-- the attempt to look casual wasn’t lost on the girl, but              she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. she often did. when he brought              up the tour bus himself, the girl offered a short chuckle and a nod. the guides had              absolutely no goddamn idea what kind of horror show happened here-- but Maisie did.               well. in a way. she only knew as much as she had figured out on her own while she               spoke to the spirits of the household. they were all MALEVOLENT. violent. spiteful.

                         ❝ i love this house, but it’s just filled to the brim with negative energy. ❞

               Maisie clears her throat, pulling another drag from her cigarette before grabbing for                another beer and offering it out to him lazily. may as well attempt to make company.                the girl had yet to make any friends here, so this was a start-- an odd start, but one                that would be memorable in the very least.

                                                                                     ❝ i’m Maisie. want a beer? ❞

ok…………………what?????????????

i honestly 100% didn’t think elsa would get very many followers bc freakshow is seen as a huge disappointment in the eyes of many, but i am SO HAPPY to reached a milestone this fast. i love all of u tbh. 

so much, that i decided to do a giveaway instead of a bias list!!

RULES:

obviously, you have to be following me, since this is a giveaway for my followers. pls don’t do the thing where you follow me for the giveaway & then unfollow after. 

reblogs ONLY. likes can be used for a bookmark, but will not be counted as entries.

must be a roleplay blog. personals will not be selected as winners.

3 winners will be selected.

winners will be selected OCTOBER 1ST ; 6:00 PM MT.

PRIZES:

1st place: will receive 25+ icons of their choice, a contained theme+bg (w/ or w/o pop-ups), & their choice in a graphic promo or header.

2nd place: will receive 25+ icons of their choice & a graphic promo/header

3rd place: will receive 25+ icons OR a promo/header

EXAMPLES UNDER CUT:

icon examples:

theme examples: 

promo/mobile banner examples:

     Charles’ gaze follows to observe, giving a polite nod.      Ah, so she was from THERE. He’d been wondering when      he’d learn who had decided to occupy that house, after      Mr and Mrs White’s tragic demises at his hands.

               “I see! Well, I’ll have to simply have you all round                for dinner one evening this week, Maisie. It’s a real                pleasure to make your acquaintance. And to sample               your baking. You should be proud, you know. They’re               very good. Best I’ve ever tasted. I like to dabble in the               kitchen a bit myself, but ah, I’m not that much of a cook.”

              the young lady takes his hand, carefully maneuvering the plate to her now free               hand. she shakes delicately, though firmly. he’s pleasant-- Charlie. a very dapper               and kind man, but Maisie often had to wonder how many people were false and               how many were honestly this chivalrous and lovely. a paranoia, perhaps, that she               should start working on, as this was how one LOST friends, not MADE them.

                      ❝ that would be lovely! i’m sure Mother and Father would be pleased. ❞

                                                    at least in front of the Johnson’s.

               Maisie’s smile grows into a more readable expression-- joyful about his compliment                of course, but there’s an obvious nervousness laying just beneath the surface. she                can’t really remember the last time someone complimented her baking. she chuckles                softly, tilting her head and humming in thought.

                                              ❝ thank you so much. it’s been a while since i’ve done any baking.                                                  when we do dinner, i’ll be sure to bring some type of dessert !! ❞

               a SURGEON. now, that was lovely. exciting! Maisie perks up the slightest bit; interested.

              she smiles bashfully, lifting a hand from the plate she held in order to card               her fingers through her hair. her parents had a way about them-- they were               the new neighbours in town, and yet Maisie had been elected to go around               and introduce their family to the rest of the beautiful white picket fence families.

                           ❝ my secret? lemon zest, wouldn’t you believe? ❞

               oh, but where were her manners? a slight blush paints her cheeks and the                young woman clears her throat gently. fingertips drum on the porcelain of                the plate and she shifts in spot. Mother wouldn’t be happy about this if she                found out.

                               ❝ i am so sorry, Sir. i forgot to introduce myself. i’m Maisie-May Carlisle.                                  my parents, Lou-Anne and Roderick. two younger sisters, Margaret                                  and Anne-Marie. ❞

                                                                she turns a bit, motioning with her chin toward the                                                                 off-white painted building a few houses down.