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# Hostage to the Devil: The Possession and Exorcism of Five Contemporary Americans

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Hostage to the Devil: The Possession and Exorcism of Five Contemporary Americans [Martin, Malachi] on desertcart.com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Hostage to the Devil: The Possession and Exorcism of Five Contemporary Americans

Review: Buried Gems - Marianne, Jonathan, David and Richard could have given humanity a great gift with their spiritual insights and inner illumination. They could have gone on to become a great healer, wise and all-knowing, like Jesus- the real Jesus. They could have pulled back the curtain of deception for us and revealed the demonic beings that are strangling us and living off our life-force. That never happened. After their experiences of enlightenment, they were followed by demonic beings who continuously surrounded them with evil and darkness, so that any tiny crack in their brilliance could be polluted, and doubt of what they experienced could seep in. They were deceived into believing their enlightenment was evil. Demons wore them down, tormented them, and eventually possessed them. They were trapped, lost to themselves and the world. The gifts they can give us are the pure and beautiful experiences they had, recorded in this book, before their demonic attacks occurred. But they are buried and polluted by the darkness. Few people will see these buried gems, clear away the evil webs that entangle them, and know. Demonic beings influenced David to believe the new sound he ‘heard’ was controlling him, that his senses were invaded, and he was possessed. It was all lies, but David believed it and began to question his enlightened states, seeing them as evil. The demons were then able to possess him. This same scenario happened to Jonathan, Marianne and Richard, and they also became possessed. The following is paraphrased or quoted from this book: MARIANNE. To talk with another softened the sharp edge of her perception. To do anything with another meant clothing herself in false clothes, not being wholly herself. To feel anything with anyone else meant she would feel only relatively, accounting for them. It was difficult to regain the inner space and vision she had possessed before such contacts. She was fully absorbed in the Self that had been hiding. In the presence of that inner Self all was naked, absolute, secure. No longer interrupted or disrupted by the bad flow from others. The Self she sought lay beyond, beneath and behind the world of her actions and reactions. Out of reach of the endless rhythm of responses, recordings on her memory, the chatter of people blaring monologues. She became more sensitive, independent of the distracting outer world, and her inner psychic which was at the mercy of that outer world and easily shattered by it. If she could prevent the bad flow of others entering her, she could achieve perfection of her personhood. Contact with others- being in their presence even while they talked with others, caused two levels of communication. Both levels happened simultaneously. The first, outer level was the senses- touch, taste, smell, remembered images, talking. The second, inner level was a flow or influence from each other. It was not the subconscious, sixth sense, or telepathy. It was the Self in each, communicating. The Self does not need images, thoughts, logic or matter. It is not the soul or spirit in religion, or the thinking brain. In most people it is identified as such, and split into a black or white condition. People choose, respond, say yes or no, splintering the Self’s lively unity. It is rare to meet anyone whose flow with others entered and left, without attempting to split up the Self within. Daily life became a series of efforts to resist the flow from all but those who, like herself, had a perfect flow and balance, who had nothingness within them. She felt the flow of those present, ready to flee if any disturbance came her way. Seeking balance into the locus of her Self, until her Self is at last seen as a final illusion dissipated and annihilated into nothing-full oneness, a oneness that had always been there. JONATHAN. There is a return to where we came from, a going back to the oneness of nature and the universe. He lost count of ordinary time, of the sun and wind, river and its banks. The wind was a great rushing bird whose wings dovetailed into the green and brown arms of the trees on either side of him. The rocks became living things, his brothers and sisters, his millennial cousins, witnessing his consecration with the reverence that only nature had. The water around him winked with gleaming eyes as it sang the song it had learned millions of years ago, from the swirling atoms of space, before there was any world and man to hear it. It was an irresistible ecstasy for Jonathan. He felt a soft relaxation- no trace of tension, no anticipation, forward-looking thought or emotion. All was wrapped up and contained in the now, the here-present. Jesus was greater than Christians knew, every man and woman was equally as great. All were brothers to the boulders, sisters of the stars, co-beings with all animals and plants. Then all he had ever been or known of himself disappeared, hanging by an invisible thread. DAVID. Somewhere a curious sound, so faint it might have been blood pumping in his ears. He could not identify the sound. Little wisps of memory touched his consciousness briefly, tantalizing him as they skipped by, leaving him all the tenser. Little jagged fragments of shattered mirrors reflecting some shadow life; but he could not make out what was being recalled to him. The act of trying to remember was a blockage, thinking a hindrance to knowing. The sound died away. He was alone, yearning to know, infinitely sad. The sound started again, from no particular direction, not from outside or inside. It was a permanent sound that had always been there around him. He always heard it but had never listened to it, or allow himself to acknowledge he did. With a sudden violence he understood why the sound seemed to come from no direction. It was to hear a sound without any normal exterior conditions of hearing- no sound waves, no exterior source of sound, no function of his eardrums. It was real sound which could not be heard with ears. It was more real than any other sound he could ever hear in the physical world. It had a mysterious warmth of reality. It broke the silence of the night and his vigil more penetratingly than if a gunshot had exploded outside the window. Intensely pleasurable, because it was so secret. Deeply relieving, because it dismissed the silence around him in a fashion so intimate to him alone. Absorbing because it came from no place, yet filled all his inner hearing. Cowing, because in some transcendent way it had no tenderness. That sound was a whole revelation. He now understood that there was a knowledge of material things and a way of having that knowledge- in this case, of sounds, which did not come through his senses. His fear and distrust battled with this realization whenever a stray sound, the cry of a bird in the night, the hooting of an owl, struck his hearing in the normal way. These new, fearful, wallowing sounds seemed to belong to the very substance of audible things and his hearing of them to be absolutely true hearing. The external sounds of the night, even the occasional shuffle of his own feet on the floor, seemed to belong to a fleeting world, artificial, not real at all, but constructed merely by external stimuli and by his own physical reactions. The babel of internal sounds was growing and the artificial world of his normal life appeared to be like a flimsy trellis with wide gaps or a wall made of widely separated wires. A blustering, overwhelming new reality was rushing in through the holes. Richard. At a survival camp, Richard became enlightened. Alone at his camp spot, a hush fell around him, then it opened and an invisible veil fell aside. He was no longer a separate and distinct being from it all. He was surrounded by shapes and presences, which had lain hidden up to now. The wind and light had a presence; the wind spoke and revealed the light. The darkness held a mystery that wove a web around him, washing him in a strange grace and softening something inside him. A part that was hard was becoming soft, supple, flowing into the mystery. In the darkness he could see the variant colors of rocks, ruffles on the water, shades to the trees, notes in the wind. A deep core of him melted and he heard his father’s voice say ‘chin up young man- we men must be strong.’ He felt his body shudder, as if shaking off armor. He seemed to be holding all natural things at once- the ground, the light, the voice of the wind, the silver of the moon, the silence. He thought, ‘I don’t want a man’s hardness and strength, I want your wholeness and mystery. I want to be a man-woman. Richard heard/felt a voice that soared in a melody of notes. There was no rhythm or beat, just a full and complete melody. Its notes were recorded in him, evoked as echoes to the melody. As they resonated, they portrayed a quality he always was, but never realized or expressed- in himself or the world around him. In that melodized condition, all objectives were received within a delicate maze of sensibilities, emotions, reactions, intuitions. There was a sense of sacrament with what made the water, earth and air both strong and tender, soft and unyielding, masculine and feminine. This sense of the possibilities of all natural things at once was now an inner persuasion. The melody went through the night until sunrise. The ecstasy he experienced on the mountain with the air, water and earth was vividly present to him for weeks after. Richard had a sex change operation to become a woman. He met someone who invited him to a party. It was a satanic gathering. Richard was initiated and demon-possessed.
Review: A Must Read - Although Fr. Malachi Martin's Hostage to the Devil is in many ways not for the faint of heart, it is nevertheless a "must read" for anyone interested in human spirituality. In the title, "hostage" refers to the priest who puts himself in grave psychological and physical danger to free the victim from a possessing demon. Basically, this work is a non-fictional account of five victims of demonic possession and the five priests who exorcised them. Seeking out a certified Roman Catholic Exorcist were Catholics and non-Catholics alike who had been left with nowhere else to turn. The book chronicles their journey from hopelessness to grace. Fr. Martin is a brilliant writer whose explanations are given with clarity and stylistic beauty as he not only documents the cases selected for his work but also includes other informative material such as the rigorous requirements needed for obtaining permission for an exorcism and an Appendix outlining the prayers, etc., used in a traditional ritual. For this reason, Hostage to the Devil is less a "Passalong" than a "Keeper," a book the Reader will wish to have in his or her permanent library. Fr. Martin recalls a time when every Diocese had an Exorcist on call and laments how easily modern society has fallen into the trap of believing that the devil does not exist, thus causing all aberrant behavior to be dumped into the field of psychiatry. Hostage to the Devil is a wake-up call to a world which holds a convenient belief in God but not the devil. More specifically, it a a plea to the world's Roman Catholic bishops to return to an acceptance of all of their responsibilities when it comes to the business of holding the line against Satan. This book made me wonder, "Does the Bishop of my Diocese have an Exorcist on call, and would he summarily dismiss all requests for an exorcist or look into the problem a bit further?" Fr. Martin feels that the Church has become too complacent in its view that the "gates of hell will not prevail" against it. The most interesting of the five cases is one in which the exorcist himself is suffering from a crisis of faith; and if any Christian has felt a bit uneasy about the philosophy of Teilhard de Chardin, particularly his concept of the Omega Point, Fr. Martin's insightful depiction of this case may help to put one's finger right on the pulse of the problem. Although Hostage to the Devil may not be the best book I have read during the past ten years, it is certainly the most important. Very highly recommended.

## Technical Specifications

| Specification | Value |
|---------------|-------|
| Best Sellers Rank | #68,737 in Books ( See Top 100 in Books ) #15 in Demonology & Satanism (Books) #86 in Christian Angelology & Demonology #132 in History of Christianity (Books) |
| Customer Reviews | 4.5 out of 5 stars 1,489 Reviews |

## Images

![Hostage to the Devil: The Possession and Exorcism of Five Contemporary Americans - Image 1](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/81UMOt5zVeL.jpg)

## Customer Reviews

### ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Buried Gems
*by M***H on December 30, 2020*

Marianne, Jonathan, David and Richard could have given humanity a great gift with their spiritual insights and inner illumination. They could have gone on to become a great healer, wise and all-knowing, like Jesus- the real Jesus. They could have pulled back the curtain of deception for us and revealed the demonic beings that are strangling us and living off our life-force. That never happened. After their experiences of enlightenment, they were followed by demonic beings who continuously surrounded them with evil and darkness, so that any tiny crack in their brilliance could be polluted, and doubt of what they experienced could seep in. They were deceived into believing their enlightenment was evil. Demons wore them down, tormented them, and eventually possessed them. They were trapped, lost to themselves and the world. The gifts they can give us are the pure and beautiful experiences they had, recorded in this book, before their demonic attacks occurred. But they are buried and polluted by the darkness. Few people will see these buried gems, clear away the evil webs that entangle them, and know. Demonic beings influenced David to believe the new sound he ‘heard’ was controlling him, that his senses were invaded, and he was possessed. It was all lies, but David believed it and began to question his enlightened states, seeing them as evil. The demons were then able to possess him. This same scenario happened to Jonathan, Marianne and Richard, and they also became possessed. The following is paraphrased or quoted from this book: MARIANNE. To talk with another softened the sharp edge of her perception. To do anything with another meant clothing herself in false clothes, not being wholly herself. To feel anything with anyone else meant she would feel only relatively, accounting for them. It was difficult to regain the inner space and vision she had possessed before such contacts. She was fully absorbed in the Self that had been hiding. In the presence of that inner Self all was naked, absolute, secure. No longer interrupted or disrupted by the bad flow from others. The Self she sought lay beyond, beneath and behind the world of her actions and reactions. Out of reach of the endless rhythm of responses, recordings on her memory, the chatter of people blaring monologues. She became more sensitive, independent of the distracting outer world, and her inner psychic which was at the mercy of that outer world and easily shattered by it. If she could prevent the bad flow of others entering her, she could achieve perfection of her personhood. Contact with others- being in their presence even while they talked with others, caused two levels of communication. Both levels happened simultaneously. The first, outer level was the senses- touch, taste, smell, remembered images, talking. The second, inner level was a flow or influence from each other. It was not the subconscious, sixth sense, or telepathy. It was the Self in each, communicating. The Self does not need images, thoughts, logic or matter. It is not the soul or spirit in religion, or the thinking brain. In most people it is identified as such, and split into a black or white condition. People choose, respond, say yes or no, splintering the Self’s lively unity. It is rare to meet anyone whose flow with others entered and left, without attempting to split up the Self within. Daily life became a series of efforts to resist the flow from all but those who, like herself, had a perfect flow and balance, who had nothingness within them. She felt the flow of those present, ready to flee if any disturbance came her way. Seeking balance into the locus of her Self, until her Self is at last seen as a final illusion dissipated and annihilated into nothing-full oneness, a oneness that had always been there. JONATHAN. There is a return to where we came from, a going back to the oneness of nature and the universe. He lost count of ordinary time, of the sun and wind, river and its banks. The wind was a great rushing bird whose wings dovetailed into the green and brown arms of the trees on either side of him. The rocks became living things, his brothers and sisters, his millennial cousins, witnessing his consecration with the reverence that only nature had. The water around him winked with gleaming eyes as it sang the song it had learned millions of years ago, from the swirling atoms of space, before there was any world and man to hear it. It was an irresistible ecstasy for Jonathan. He felt a soft relaxation- no trace of tension, no anticipation, forward-looking thought or emotion. All was wrapped up and contained in the now, the here-present. Jesus was greater than Christians knew, every man and woman was equally as great. All were brothers to the boulders, sisters of the stars, co-beings with all animals and plants. Then all he had ever been or known of himself disappeared, hanging by an invisible thread. DAVID. Somewhere a curious sound, so faint it might have been blood pumping in his ears. He could not identify the sound. Little wisps of memory touched his consciousness briefly, tantalizing him as they skipped by, leaving him all the tenser. Little jagged fragments of shattered mirrors reflecting some shadow life; but he could not make out what was being recalled to him. The act of trying to remember was a blockage, thinking a hindrance to knowing. The sound died away. He was alone, yearning to know, infinitely sad. The sound started again, from no particular direction, not from outside or inside. It was a permanent sound that had always been there around him. He always heard it but had never listened to it, or allow himself to acknowledge he did. With a sudden violence he understood why the sound seemed to come from no direction. It was to hear a sound without any normal exterior conditions of hearing- no sound waves, no exterior source of sound, no function of his eardrums. It was real sound which could not be heard with ears. It was more real than any other sound he could ever hear in the physical world. It had a mysterious warmth of reality. It broke the silence of the night and his vigil more penetratingly than if a gunshot had exploded outside the window. Intensely pleasurable, because it was so secret. Deeply relieving, because it dismissed the silence around him in a fashion so intimate to him alone. Absorbing because it came from no place, yet filled all his inner hearing. Cowing, because in some transcendent way it had no tenderness. That sound was a whole revelation. He now understood that there was a knowledge of material things and a way of having that knowledge- in this case, of sounds, which did not come through his senses. His fear and distrust battled with this realization whenever a stray sound, the cry of a bird in the night, the hooting of an owl, struck his hearing in the normal way. These new, fearful, wallowing sounds seemed to belong to the very substance of audible things and his hearing of them to be absolutely true hearing. The external sounds of the night, even the occasional shuffle of his own feet on the floor, seemed to belong to a fleeting world, artificial, not real at all, but constructed merely by external stimuli and by his own physical reactions. The babel of internal sounds was growing and the artificial world of his normal life appeared to be like a flimsy trellis with wide gaps or a wall made of widely separated wires. A blustering, overwhelming new reality was rushing in through the holes. Richard. At a survival camp, Richard became enlightened. Alone at his camp spot, a hush fell around him, then it opened and an invisible veil fell aside. He was no longer a separate and distinct being from it all. He was surrounded by shapes and presences, which had lain hidden up to now. The wind and light had a presence; the wind spoke and revealed the light. The darkness held a mystery that wove a web around him, washing him in a strange grace and softening something inside him. A part that was hard was becoming soft, supple, flowing into the mystery. In the darkness he could see the variant colors of rocks, ruffles on the water, shades to the trees, notes in the wind. A deep core of him melted and he heard his father’s voice say ‘chin up young man- we men must be strong.’ He felt his body shudder, as if shaking off armor. He seemed to be holding all natural things at once- the ground, the light, the voice of the wind, the silver of the moon, the silence. He thought, ‘I don’t want a man’s hardness and strength, I want your wholeness and mystery. I want to be a man-woman. Richard heard/felt a voice that soared in a melody of notes. There was no rhythm or beat, just a full and complete melody. Its notes were recorded in him, evoked as echoes to the melody. As they resonated, they portrayed a quality he always was, but never realized or expressed- in himself or the world around him. In that melodized condition, all objectives were received within a delicate maze of sensibilities, emotions, reactions, intuitions. There was a sense of sacrament with what made the water, earth and air both strong and tender, soft and unyielding, masculine and feminine. This sense of the possibilities of all natural things at once was now an inner persuasion. The melody went through the night until sunrise. The ecstasy he experienced on the mountain with the air, water and earth was vividly present to him for weeks after. Richard had a sex change operation to become a woman. He met someone who invited him to a party. It was a satanic gathering. Richard was initiated and demon-possessed.

### ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ A Must Read
*by P***A on August 3, 2010*

Although Fr. Malachi Martin's Hostage to the Devil is in many ways not for the faint of heart, it is nevertheless a "must read" for anyone interested in human spirituality. In the title, "hostage" refers to the priest who puts himself in grave psychological and physical danger to free the victim from a possessing demon. Basically, this work is a non-fictional account of five victims of demonic possession and the five priests who exorcised them. Seeking out a certified Roman Catholic Exorcist were Catholics and non-Catholics alike who had been left with nowhere else to turn. The book chronicles their journey from hopelessness to grace. Fr. Martin is a brilliant writer whose explanations are given with clarity and stylistic beauty as he not only documents the cases selected for his work but also includes other informative material such as the rigorous requirements needed for obtaining permission for an exorcism and an Appendix outlining the prayers, etc., used in a traditional ritual. For this reason, Hostage to the Devil is less a "Passalong" than a "Keeper," a book the Reader will wish to have in his or her permanent library. Fr. Martin recalls a time when every Diocese had an Exorcist on call and laments how easily modern society has fallen into the trap of believing that the devil does not exist, thus causing all aberrant behavior to be dumped into the field of psychiatry. Hostage to the Devil is a wake-up call to a world which holds a convenient belief in God but not the devil. More specifically, it a a plea to the world's Roman Catholic bishops to return to an acceptance of all of their responsibilities when it comes to the business of holding the line against Satan. This book made me wonder, "Does the Bishop of my Diocese have an Exorcist on call, and would he summarily dismiss all requests for an exorcist or look into the problem a bit further?" Fr. Martin feels that the Church has become too complacent in its view that the "gates of hell will not prevail" against it. The most interesting of the five cases is one in which the exorcist himself is suffering from a crisis of faith; and if any Christian has felt a bit uneasy about the philosophy of Teilhard de Chardin, particularly his concept of the Omega Point, Fr. Martin's insightful depiction of this case may help to put one's finger right on the pulse of the problem. Although Hostage to the Devil may not be the best book I have read during the past ten years, it is certainly the most important. Very highly recommended.

### ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Low Quality Printing - High Quality Contents
*by V***V on December 10, 2025*

The book contents are remarkable, hence the four star rating. However, the print is not aligned properly throughout the book. Is this because Amazon publishing has decreased their standards for printing books on behalf of the publishers? I'm not sure, but I am noticing an awful trend of books ordered through Amazon - many are printed on flimsy and low quality paper and include offset or misaligned margins and titles. About the book contents - high quality, incredibly interesting, captivating, and a tad frightening. The perspectives provided from the exorcist's, the exorcee's, witnesses, and Martin's shared thoughts on each of the five cases of possession are illuminating. And, while first published in 1976, it's as if Martin's observations then remain true today. Definitely worh reading for those curious in learning how evil forces lurk around most every corner. I would recommend reading M. Scott Peck's "People of the Lie" before or after reading this book for greater perspective and inquiry.

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