So I need help, I’m not sure how much time I have have;
To give you a little backstory, my name is Andrew, and I’m 29 and live at home with my grandmother. Yes I know it’s sad, but life is too expensive , so living at home gives me the opportunity to save up for a house , plus help out my aging Grandmother who raised me.
So being the irresponsible person I am , while I’m saving , I had a little money set aside to take her on a vacation as a little way to pay her back for all the things she’s done for me. Her dream was always to go to Ireland, as that’s where my mothers side of the familiar hails from.
So about 3 weeks ago we board the plane from Detroit, flying direct to Dublin. Flight was great, we made great time, and for the first time in my life we made it though boarder check in under an hour. We settle into our hotel room , and pass out , ready to search the city for sites and guided tours , nothing too crazy as my Grandmother is 72 and needs to take things at a slower pace.
The first day was fairly uneventful. We went on a guided Ghost Tour of Dublin, checked out some of the tourist pubs and called it a day. The next day we saw a flyer in the front lobby for an excursion to visit some of the smaller towns in the country and do some shopping. This is where I’m starting to think shit went downhill. We board the Bus and checked out a tiny Village named Spiddal, just outside the city of Galway. Once there we saw what looked like a local celebration going on, think of Mardi Gras, but instead of colourful clothing and dancing , people were dressed in Robes and had Opera Style masks covering there face. So we ask one of the locals what the deal was. They tell us that today is a local Holiday where the locals here can communicate with the Dead, those who have died here in the county. The spirits are confined to the streets, and cannot enter peoples homes. So for anyone who does not wish to participate, must stay indoors and stay away from any doorway to window until Midnight that night. Those who do wish to participate are given masks so that they can see the dead and interact. To the naked eye they are invisible. They also wear the masks to protect their identities so that the spirits can only communicate with them and not interfere with their minds and try and take them over. If you’re wearing the mask and robes, the spirit cannot differentiate between you and the other around you and will simply answer your questions as they have acquired a certain knowledge of the past, present and so far into the future. It’s like a more dangerous version of going to a fortune teller, but this isn’t a hoax like most people who claim to be mediums are.
So my grandmother being the superstitious person she is, asked if she could take part with them in the festival, and after much hesitance and convincing on her part, they reluctantly agreed. I wish they hadn’t. They have her a mask and robe to put on overtop of her clothes, and almost as soon as she put the mask to her face so goes into a trance like state, and talking to something directly in front of her, she responded to the entity in front of her with “ No I believe in the worship of Lucifer, I believe in the love of God and his Holy Trinity. She lowered the mask and said “ Good day Sir, I do not wish to have any more communication with y—. Then she dropped to the ground unconscious. The EMTs were called and she was rushed to a hospital in Dublin. I thought forsure she just straight up had a heart attack and collapsed, I almost wish that was the case.
When she awoke in the hospital, the doctors were asking her questions, and she was answering them back perfectly , but with a new adopted Western Irish Accent. My grandmother was born and bred in Detroit. I pulled one of the doctors aside , and told him about this , and he said he’s heard of cases where people coming out of comas and other traumas with similar after affects, but we should consider ourselves lucky that she still has her memory, and wasn’t physically harmed outside of the heat stroke he was diagnosing her with.
For the rest of the trip she didn’t say much to me, and whatever she did say she still had this accent. Every time I’d ask her about it or how she was feeling, she’d get increasingly more hostile. To the point where I felt I had to drop it now.
Fast forward to us being home. About a week ago I noticed her going into trances speaking what I’m assuming is Gaelic, slowly and almost chantingly. Over the passing days this seemed to be more of an occurrence, hearing her in the middle of the night.
Today I came home from my afternoon shift at 1130 PM to see her at the kitchen sink, back away from me singing in Gaelic cleaning a butcher knife, there was blood puddled at her feet. I, not moving from my spot, exclaimed “Grandma, what happened”. She slowly turned towards me knife in hand , with a almost Joker life carving in the mouth. As she slowly started to advance towards me I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. She’s made no attempts to enter, but I can see her feet under the crack of the door.
Its been 2 days and she hasn’t moved , idk what to do , help.