The.conjuring.2 -

But you cannot escape something that lives in the walls.

For one endless second, nothing happened.

Ed’s hand shook. But he did not drop the cross. The.conjuring.2

The local newspaper dubbed it “the Enfield Poltergeist.” Reporters camped outside, their cameras flashing against the rain-streaked windows. But cameras cannot capture what Janet saw in the dark: an old man in a threadbare vest, sitting in the armchair at the foot of her bed. His face was gray, like spoiled milk. His eyes were hollow. He called himself Bill Wilkins. He had died in that very chair of a brain hemorrhage, and he wanted his house back.

Across the Atlantic, in a modest home in Georgia, a chain-smoking demonologist named Ed Warren woke from a nightmare. He had seen a crooked house and a little girl floating above a bed. Beside him, his wife Lorraine—a clairvoyant whose sight had shown her the face of a demon in a doll named Annabelle—pressed her cold fingers to his chest. But you cannot escape something that lives in the walls

“It’s starting again,” she whispered.

“You have no power here,” he said. “This is a home. Not a hunting ground.” But he did not drop the cross

Lorraine looked around the room. The shadows had retreated to the corners, where they belonged. But she had been a clairvoyant long enough to know the truth: demons never truly leave. They only wait.