Jeweish Folklore - The Dybbuk

In my new book, Finders Demonologist Luke Melloy has to deal with lots of different kinds of nasty spirits from all different religions. One of these meddlesome spirits is called a Dybbuk. 

According to Jewish folklore, a dybbuk is a ghost or disturbed soul that possesses the body of a living being. In early biblical and Talmudic accounts they are called "ruchim," which means "spirits" in Hebrew. During the 16th century, spirits became known as "dybbuks," which means "clinging spirit" in Yiddish.

There are numerous stories about dybbuks in Jewish folklore, each with its own take on the characteristics of a dybbuk. As a result, the specifics of what a dybbuk is, or how the spirit is created vary. 

What Is a Dybbuk?

A dybbuk is a disembodied spirit. It is the soul of someone who has died but is unable to move on for one of many reasons. For those who believe in an afterlife in the form of heaven and hell, the dybbuk is a sinner who is seeking refuge from afterlife punishment.

In a variation on this theme, the dybbuk is a soul suffering from "karet," meaning the soul has been cut off from God because of evil deeds the person did during their life. Other tales portray dybbuks as spirits that have unfinished business among the living.

Many stories about dybbuks maintain spirits exist inside living bodies. The people most often portrayed as being susceptible to possession by the dybbuk are women and those living in homes with neglected mezuzot. Neglected mezuzah as an indication that the people in the home are not very spiritual.

How to Get Rid of a Dybbuk

There are probably as many different ways to exorcise a dybbuk as there are stories about them. 

Often the first step in the exorcism is interviewing the dybbuk. The purpose of this is to determine why the spirit has not moved on. This information will help the person performing the ritual to convince the dybbuk to leave. It is also important to discover the dybbuk's name because, according to Jewish folklore, knowing the name of an otherworldly being allows a knowledgeable person to command it. In many stories, dybbuks are more than happy to share their woes with anyone who will listen.

After the interview, the steps in exorcising a dybbuk vary greatly. According to author Howard Chajes, a combination of adjurations and various props are common. For instance, the exorcist may hold an empty flask and a white candle. He will then recite a formulaic adjuration commanding the spirit to reveal its name (if it hasn't done so already). A second adjuration commands the dybbuk to leave the person and fill the flask, after that the flask will glow red.

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Keta Diablo Blog Tour - Comes a Specter (Book Two in the Ghostland Series)

 

About Comes A Specter

Six months ago, Anya Fleming's ten- year-old son, Willie-boy, found his father hanging in the barn. Traumatized over his father's suicide, the boy hasn't spoken a word since. Now, Willie-boy has come down with a grave, unknown illness and there's only one man who can save him, Sutter Sky, a learned Blackfoot shaman known as Yellow Smoke—a shaman who was once deeply in love with Anya.

But Fate had other plans for Anya and Sutter—she was forced to marry Lewis Fleming, a cruel man who berated her night and day, and brokenhearted Sutter immersed himself in the mystical customs and beliefs of his People and became a shaman

As if Anya didn't have enough to deal with after her husband's death and son's illness, an evil, sinister ghost is terrorizing their ranch. Anya is convinced the spirit is Lewis, who apparently isn't done making her life miserable.

When she turns to Yellow Smoke for help, will he put side his bitterness and save Willie-boy? And can the renowned shaman dispel the powerful ghost from their lives and send him back to Hades?

 Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GXBF25X

Excerpt

Chapter Fourteen

"Make my enemy brave and strong, so that if defeated, I will not be ashamed."

 Plains Tribes

Tendrils of darkness breached the room as Sutter slipped through the window of Anya's room. He didn't want Willie-boy to see him dressed for war, the ebony handprints –chin to cheek—the tunic and leggings splashed with blood red paint. If he didn't return, he wanted the boy to remember how he looked the last time he saw him. A misty cloud of energy trailed Sutter as he sprinted through the woods, a sign the wraith was on the prowl and primed for killing. That suited Sutter just fine. He had one goal in mind—lead the ghost toward the pit. He'd worry about how to implement the second part of his plan when the time came. An odious stench spiraled up his nostrils, another potent omen the heavy, scuffing footsteps behind him belonged to Ten Wounds.

Moments later, a cry from the dead and damned cleaved the dark, chilling Sutter's blood. No wonder Lewis had cracked, no wonder Anya and Willie-boy were terrified of the evil spirit. No wonder Cobb had said, 'Run, brother. Take Anya and run.' Close, the Zeuzeu was close now. Sutter imagined the ghost's rank breath stirring the long, dark hair at the nape of his neck.

The pit loomed ahead. Sutter spotted the pine branches and broken boughs he'd placed over the illusory grave. "Now or never", he said to the full moon overhead and came to an abrupt halt. Drawing a deep breath, he mustered up his courage and turned to face Ten Wounds. A haze of gray mist swirled around the spirit's form, his human form. If the situation weren't so serious, Sutter could have shouted with joy.

He took in the ghost's visage. A quiver hung from his shoulder stocked with sharp, pointed arrows—a sign he'd transformed into the fierce warrior who once walked the earth. Steeped in blood (no doubt from his recent kills), his clothing hung in tatters around his massive frame—a vest made of animal hides, a breechcloth and fringed leggings. Sutter's gaze traveled to his painted, pock-marked face. Yellow and white stripes marked his forehead and chin, and black circles blended into his dark eyes. For a brief second, Sutter's insides quivered and ropes of tension knotted every cord and fiber of his body. Bleary, unearthly eyes speared Sutter when the wraith raised a hand of claw-like fingers and pointed at his enemy’s chest.

The wind, much like the sound of a thousand women wailing, keened into the deafening silence. Fire exploded from the ghost's eyes—flames the fires of Hell couldn't compete with. Sutter shouted over the infernal noise and flames. "You are not welcome here! Hear my words, you are dead!"

Like a misty cloud of energy, Ten Wounds lurched forward, a staccato rhythm of hisses and howls spewing from his foam-drooling mouth. Sutter had never imagined such a demonic apparition.

~

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