For one child in the remote redwoods of California, that eerie beat became the soundtrack to a terrifying few years. Scratching in the night. Growling in the shadows. Shoves down the stairs. Bruises on waking, yet nails too short to scratch. While prayer and faith briefly silenced the chaos, the haunting memories remain: the unexplainable fever, the voices overhead, and the primal fear that something malevolent had claimed a corner of that hippie commune-turned-Christian retreat. Was it all a demonic attack, a lingering spirit, or an echo of past traumas?

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