Respawning Evil: Maurice Theriault‘s Eight-Year Descent Into Hell
I‘ve battled some pretty nasty demons in my day. As an avid gamer, I‘ve shredded my share of hellspawn in Doom, Diablo and The Evil Within. But nothing prepared me for the real-life horror story of Maurice "Frenchy" Theriault and his apparent possession by sinister forces so malevolent, they make Pyramid Head look like a pomeranian.
This average farmer‘s shocking transformation from regular joe to homicidal puppet at the hands of invisible sadists played out like the most terrifying video game adaption imaginable. And I couldn‘t look away.
The Set-Up Level – Psychological Torment
Our story begins deceptively easy – a humble farmer living quietly with his wife and young daughters. The only red flag is Maurice dabbling with a Ouija board in 1968. Most gamers know you might as well drop a bloody steak before a zombie hoard. This kind of amateur move inevitably unleashes the Dark Ones.
Sure enough, newbie Maurice gets the psychological horror starter pack – mood swings, violent outbursts, speaking in tongues. His wife Nancy tries to pacify the budding tyrant, but this passive strategy rarely works when demonic possession revs up.
Time for our damsel player one to gear up, recruit support, and battle this phase one boss.
Save Game Point – Calling In the Specialists
Luckily, Nancy realizes prayer alone won‘t cut it with her husband now glitching like a beta release. She calls in renowned paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren – think Hellboy meets the Ghostbusters. With their heaps of combat experience banishing evil spirits, the Warrens quickly ID the problem: Maurice got careless and let demons override his character controls.
This requires top-tier gear and squad support. We‘re talking a solemn Catholic exorcism complete with holy water, crucifixes, and enough Latin to give a dungeon master nosebleeds. Just organizing this spiritual raid took two years!
But finally our team enters the lair, binds the flailing last boss Maurice to limit his attacks, and the white-hatted Bishop begins reciting those sacred debug codes.
This is when ish gets real.
Boss Level – The Exorcism
As the Bishop administers the ritual debugs, Maurice morphs into a feral hellion, spewing enough vulgar threats to make a Call of Duty tournament blush. His skin bubbles, face distorts, eyes glow red. Whoever hijacked Maurice levels up hard, maybe dragging in some nasty special guests along for the joyride.
I ain‘t squeamish, but seeing Maurice‘s forearm suddenly carve: "Ed is the enemy" with no visible damage makes my blood run cold. This is some advanced digital voodoo terrorware for sure.
Somehow Bishop McKenna slays his way through the entire Latin exorcism code. After eight hours, he bellows "Depart dark prince!" And just like that, the psycho graphics return to normal. Our boy Maurice is back! The Warrens high-five while our damsel Nancy weeps for joy.
I should feel that usual badass gratification of epic win. But why do I get that uneasy saved-too-soon vibe? Like when Pyramid Head always comes back more ticked off than before?
Sure enough…
The Siege – Demons Respawn for the Final Showdown
I‘ll hand it to this game‘s creeping horror design that the primary threat re-emerges slowly: Mood swings at a wedding, dead chickens missing heads. But soon Maurice disappears entirely and blood messages threaten Nancy directly. She hole ups safely with the Warrens as her stalker plots the final blow.
Two years later, Nancy‘s very own Frenchy appears sporting new demon graphics – glowing eyes, sadistic threats about "finishing this properly." He blasts her leg off, then forces her to watch him blow his own head off with a disturbingly gleeful smile. Surprise perma-death!
As the bloody post-game report confirms Nancy‘s own suicide shortly after, I sit stunned at the vicious A.I. And yet, part of me wonders if some sliver of the real Maurice shone through at the very end, intentionally turning the shotgun away from Nancy one last time. Either way, game over doesn‘t quite cover this heartbreak finish.
The Theriault ordeal certainly plays like the most visceral and emotionally punishing horror game imaginable. Maybe that‘s why it disturbs me far more than pixelated gore fests ever could. Because beneath every vile twist, an innocent family endured levels of suffering no mother or child should ever experience in real life.
At least in games, we CONTROL the horror as brave heroes able to RESET the nightmare. But there‘s no reset or continue option when human souls shatter beyond repair in our own reality. And there never will be.