| Why Were The Snakes On My Bed?
This is mostly a true story, and only the names have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved in the story.
They were all over my bed! Snakes!
Staring into the dark, I thought I felt something moving up the sheets. Paralyzed by fear, I couldn’t scream or even move. There they were, flicking forked tongues in and out of their mouths. Watching me with black, beady, eyes. Long, snakes, with black, and green, stripes, coiling, unwinding and slithering across the bottom of my mattress.
Gripped by terror, my mind began to race back and forth with questions that had no answers. Calling out to my mother and father was not an option. They were indifferent and uncaring and would not believe me.
Was I still dreaming? If so, was this a nightmare? Why were the snakes on my bed?
I soon learned at 10 years old that this experience with snakes was not a one-time occurrence. The snakes would appear and vanish, as I grew older. Until, later in life, I would finally know why they were there.
I was 13 years old when I was sitting at my desk in school. The bell rang, and I was gathering my books to leave the room. Marge a mousy brown- haired, skinny girl with puppy dog brown eyes approached my desk anxiously. She said she lost her mother’s heirloom ring and that she looked everywhere and couldn’t find it. She asked me if I had seen the ring? Suddenly, a vision appeared in my mind. It was lying on the floor next to a desk. I picked the ring up and presented it to her.
“Is this the ring you were looking for Marge? It must have fallen off the desk.”
“How did you know where it was?” she replied, with her eyes flashing in surprise.
“You would never believe me if I told you." "Just a hunch", I uttered as I walked out of the room.
This was only the beginning of many events that ushered me into a deep curiosity about the occult.
At sixteen, I had incurred a desire to visit fortune tellers. The lady I would see regularly lived on a farm in London Ontario. Mrs. Nelson was, a white- haired, blue- eyed dimple- faced woman. When I came for a reading, she would always be dressed in a flowered smock. I walked into her ornament filled kitchen with faded pink floral wallpaper, and sat down on a worn out sofa, by an old black wood- burning stove. She grabbed the kettle and would brew up a big pot of tea and put some cookies on a plate, while she set the cards out on the table to be read. Mrs. Nelson was famous for helping the police find bodies and solve murders. She really advanced my interest in the occult by telling me that I was gifted with psychic abilities. She told me, to buy a deck of Tarot cards and study them. Of course, I was thrilled and followed her suggestion to buy the cards. .
I, didn’t know that I just rang a bell in the unseen realm that would bring demonic entities into my life.
I left my hometown of Waterloo and moved to Toronto where I started devouring the Book of Tarot. Being able to tell someone’s future gave me power over that person’s life. Sometimes I would create good or bad events to see how the person would react. I was on a power trip; there was no way to stop it. The cards took on a life of their own.
A professional card reader approached me and she asked me to join her group sessions. She tempted me with making a lot of money, but also warned me that it would deplete my natural energy. I thanked her for the offer, but declined and continued to do readings on my own.
Now, my interest in the occult was becoming more, and more obsessive. I was reading Louise Huebner’s witchcraft books and practicing the I Ching, also doing divination and spells.
The demons had remained hidden from sight. The next set of events I would encounter would be the unveiling of evil spirits that would change my life forever.
I had just moved into a new apartment with the address 666 Spadina Avenue in Toronto. Walking to the laundry room one day, I met an attractive blond. The woman told me her name was June Woods. She was wearing a pretty blue matching sweater and skirt. We chatted for a while as she folded her bed sheets, on the dryer and then she invited me to lunch at her apartment.
June’s apartment was small, but it was beautifully decorated. I noticed a collection of rose quartz crystals on a mahogany table near the front door. She had antique porcelain dolls sitting on a dark china cabinet against the peach pastel wall. White crochet baskets filled with violet tinged pink and blue flowers hung above from the rafters on the ceiling. As I walked through the black- beaded door to the kitchen, I sensed a strange presence lingering nearby. June excused herself, saying she had to change into something more comfortable. When June came back, she was wearing a long, red flannel gown. Around her neck hung a large turquoise stone on a chain. I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her while she made our lunch. We sat at the kitchen table, and began to eat the food she had prepared.
A loud knock on the door interrupted our lunch. June apologized and hurriedly answered it. There stood a woman dressed in a black jacket and pants, with long, dark, hair, and eerie, green, eyes. In fact, she did not even look human. She looked and moved like a panther. I peeked through the beads and saw her reach into the top of her jacket and pull out a black, candle, pointing it at June. She and the woman were having a heated discussion about the candle. I heard the woman shouting at her angrily. June jerked her arm, and the candle flew out of her hand, and landed on the table next to the crystals.
“You will never leave us, bitch! We will kill you! Beware, you better watch your back. No one walks away from us.”
I was starting to feel panic stricken and got up to leave when June returned and asked me to stay. She told me the woman’s name was Margaret and she belonged to a Witches’ Coven. Margaret was accusing her of betraying the Coven by leaving it. She also told me the reason for wearing the red flannel gown and turquoise necklace was to ward off evil.
June explained that once you join some Witches’ Covens, they demand loyalty. Leaving it is very difficult. Members trying to quit the group could find themselves involved in a Witch War. This would mean retaliation with spells and curses from the Coven.
I quickly finished my food and left her apartment in a daze. What I had just seen, I thought you only read about in fiction or watched on television. You would think after seeing this incident. I would run for the hills and never look back. I was na´ve, and unfortunately was going to learn the hard way.
Three days later I saw June come out of the elevator. Dressed in the red flannel gown, wearing the same necklace she wore in her apartment. Black and blue bruises mottled her face and arms. Embarrassed and in a hurry, she briefly told me that the bruises were from falling down the subway stairs. That was the last time I saw her. She moved out of the apartment complex and was never seen again.
So what have the snakes got to do with this, you ask? Oh, we are just getting started, there is much more to come before I tell you why the snakes were in my room.
My next venture was the biggest mistake I would make in my life. The results would bring the most devastating crisis that would harm me.
Two months later, I received a telephone call from my friend Barb. She was a blond athletic girl, who liked to wear T-shirts and blue jeans. Barb was constantly looking for adventure. She asked me if I would join her on a trip to Niagara Falls. To have our fortunes read by a man who was the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son Warlock. I hesitated for a few minutes then she began to tell me all the wonderful predictions he had told her about her future. I agreed to meet her and go with her for a fun reading.
We arrived at the man’s house and he came out to greet us. His skin was wrinkled, and swarthy. His eyes sunk into his face. His pupils had a tinge of red, and greenish color to them. He was dressed in a yellow East Indian silk shirt, and pants with strange designs on them. The one thing that bothered me, was the blue half- moon tattoo that was on his right temple, and a jagged scar running from his cheek to his jaw. Opening the front door, he led us to a dimly lit room smelling of incense, and a large brass table with horoscope symbols on it. The floor was lined with black tile and the blue walls were covered with sun and moon signs. Then, he showed us where to sit while he began to shuffle the Tarot cards. As he spread the cards in front of us, his eyes darted back and forth looking at a pentagram talisman lying on the table. Then, he stuck out his tongue, which happened to be very long and black with metal balls embedded in it. Mumbling in a foreign language, his face contracted like a cobra ready to strike. He grabbed my hand and placed it on a card, and then he asked me to turn it over. There staring me in the face was the death card.
He motioned to my friend to leave the room. I was afraid of this man, and everything in me told me to get up and leave now! It was too late. I felt like a fly in a spider’s web and could not move. His dark smoldering eyes penetrated mine as he proceeded to tell me the most horrifying prediction. I would contract an incurable disease around the age of 50 and would probably die. Also, he told me that I would have a son. Who would grow up to be infamous and bring heartache and sorrow in my life.
I knew right then and there that I was sitting at a table with the devil. Nausea swept over me, and my stomach was churning. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I had to get out of there fast! I got up and moved toward the door announcing my departure.
“Excuse me sir, I have to leave. I am not feeling very well. It must be the lunch that I ate. How much do I owe you for the reading?”
His eyes looked right through me as he mumbled, “That will be twenty dollars.”
I paid him and went to find my girlfriend so we could leave immediately. After I whispered in her ear what the man had told me. She followed me quickly out the door without saying a word.
As we drove away she told me how sorry she was that I listened to that man’s prediction,
“I can’t understand why he said those horrible things to you and told me, I would have a marvelous future.”
I kept silent all the way home mulling over in my mind the thought of dying from an incurable disease.
I said goodbye to her and decided that night that I was finished with the occult. Now saying that is much easier than doing it. The temptation of wanting to know the future is very enticing. Later I realized that someone who loved me dearly. They would become involved in a battle for my eternal soul.
Two years later I was still trying to extract myself from the tentacles of the occult. I was working at the University of Toronto in the Business Affairs department making copies for work. When a tall brunette wearing a beige cashmere sweater and a camel haired skirt with her hair twisted on top of her head approached me. The woman asked if I would come with her to a Love Feast that evening. Being alone and depressed, I jumped at the chance to go with her. She gave me directions to the house where the meeting was being held.
That night I arrived at an old stone Tudor style house that was surrounded by large oak trees. I pushed open the heavy wooden door. I walked into a low-beamed room occupied by a peculiar group of people shouting, “Praise the Lord” after every sentence they spoke. A group of women led me to a large comfy flowered couch, with stuffed pillows by a burning fireplace. They brought me a variety of cheese and crackers to eat on a tray. I noticed that everyone was dressed in red and white shirts with Biblical logos printed on the pocket. They all were walking around with a Bible in his or her hand. When the meeting was over, a woman named Elaine offered to give me a ride home.
The next day when I finished work, as I walked out the door Elaine was waiting for me in the front office. I was surprised. I did not expect her to be there. She asked me if I would have supper with her in the Hard House dining room. I accepted and went with her to the cafeteria.
As we were eating, she brought out her Bible and began to question me.
“If, you died tonight? Do you think you would go to heaven?”
I was stunned. Why would she ask me something so weird? I knew very little about the Bible and could not answer her. But she persisted reading the scripture John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Something began tugging at my heart and that night I asked the Lord Jesus Christ to be my Lord and Savior.
I joined the group the Lord’s Recovery and stayed with them for six months. They turned out to be a cult. They followed me everywhere. I could not get away from them. Elaine and two other women would be at my apartment at ten o’clock at night. They would bring gifts of fruit and cheese or pastries. They would be waiting for me after work to take me to the meetings. Finally, I left them to go to the church next door to my apartment complex. Even though I was saved, I was in a constant struggle with the occult.
Years went by. I married and moved to Phoenix, Arizona. Life seemed to go downhill from there. Our son grew up to be out of control. He joined a gang and terrorized our lives day and night. Around the age of 50, I was diagnosed with “Valley Fever.”
It was Mothers’ day, and I was dressed in a new blue silk pantsuit. I had just finished styling my hair and was on my way out the door to dinner with my husband. As I got up from the chair at the kitchen table, I heard a loud cracking noise. It sounded like an ax chopping down a tree. I fell to the floor in excruciating pain and could not get up by myself. My husband carried me to the car, and put me in the back seat. Then he drove me to the emergency room. The doctors did several tests and discovered that valley fever had eaten my vertebrates. They suggested major surgery on my spine to replace all my vertebrates the disease had destroyed. The next 14 years, the fungal infection would try to kill me. Life had become unbearable for my husband, and me. Our faith in God was diminishing and we both became indifferent and cold towards Him.
But God never gives up on us! I was invited to a woman’s Agape Full Gospel meeting and the speaker was a former High Priestess Witch. She was a flaming redhead dressed in a navy blue suit. Her sparkling green eyes became serious as she paced the floor. She spoke of the rituals and ceremonies that she had been involved in. She told how she suffered murder and suicidal thoughts. How anger was her constant companion in every relationship that she had. When she finished speaking, she asked if anyone would like to come up for prayer. I went forward for prayer. She prayed and laid hands on my shoulders, then looking directly into my eyes, told me that I had been involved in witchcraft and the occult. She asked me two things the first question was:
“Did you have continual visions of snakes in your room?”
“Yes,” I told her with my voice trembling.
She explained that one of my ancestors was involved in the occult. They worshipped snakes. It was because of their sins the serpent curse came into my life. I asked her why it didn’t come into my sister’s life. She said my sister was not in tune spiritually to receive it.
The second question she asked.
“Did I visit a man who was a Warlock?”
“Yes,” I answered, nervously.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. She told me that I had encountered a very evil man. Who had put a very strong curse on my life to try to kill me. But because I accepted Christ, he would now be my avenger and protector. Also, that he does not take away the consequences of sin, but he does forgive them.
After that revelation, the devil fought even harder to break my faith and belief in God. My husband and I suffered 15 years of battling my disease and my son’s attacks, almost causing us to have a nervous breakdown.
Closing my story I will relate to you the most frightening experience of all.
I was attending a Bible Study when I met Bob, who had a Christian radio show. After hearing my testimony, he asked if I would speak out against the Occult on his program. I was flattered that he would ask me, so I agreed.
Later that night while I was sleeping, the demons attacked my body. I woke up sweating profusely with my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I felt someone or something lay on my chest choking me. It pinned my arms down by my sides and I couldn’t move. My husband was lying next to me sound asleep with no knowledge of what was happening. I tried to scream, but my voice was locked inside of me. I was petrified and my heart was racing like a racehorse. The only thing I could do was pray in silence. As soon as I began to use the name of Jesus, the presence became weak and started to release me from its hold. Finally, it left and I chose not to wake my husband because I didn’t think he would believe me anyway.
The next day, I called Bob and told him what happened. He said it was a warning from the demonic spirits. I told him that I did not think I, was strong enough spiritually, to talk out against the Occult. So I declined his offer to be on the show. That was the only time the demons attacked me physically.
There is so much more I could write, but I think I have given you enough to read.
Now you know why the snakes were on my bed in my room!
The next time you think about picking up a deck of Tarot cards, or playing with a Ouija board, or touching anything to do with the occult. DON’T!!!