Written Confession: Meeting a Vampire and a Demon-Possessed Woman in One Day
The following written confession was submitted via email. It has been edited only for spelling and name removal.
I met a demon-possessed woman and a vampire in the same day. It was near Toronto, Ontario, 20 years ago. It started my journey that led me to The Confessionals, Blurry Creatures, and others. I truly feel this was the beginning of the Lord removing the scales from my eyes, as to what is really happening on this Earth, and that we are born in a time of war—a spiritual war—that, at the time, I was ill-equipped for.
My cousin and I were meeting up at a tattoo shop in Aurora, Ontario, just over an hour north of Toronto. She was an apprentice there—had been for just a short time. I was coming from work to pick her up to drive her to downtown Toronto to another tattoo shop which, at the time, specialized in tattooing machines and supplies. [She] doesn't drive well at night, so I offered to drive her. The city can be nerve-racking. As I was coming from work myself, I brought clothing to change into. The tattoo shop owner I had known for many years, so I knew she would be okay with me using/changing in her bathroom. The owner had given me my first tattoo when she operated out of the Stouffville Flea Market, but now with a shop in the main shopping area of downtown Aurora, her clientele and products and services she offered had changed greatly over the years. She now had a palm reader come in a couple days a week and was selling more and more occult gizmos. As a lifelong follower of Jesus, this made me increasingly uncomfortable, but I wanted to do my cousin a favour.
When I arrived, I said hello to everyone and made my way to the back of the shop where the bathroom and owner had her private workstation for people needing privacy. She did not like to be disturbed when she was with a client, but she knew ahead of time I would be coming in. She smiled when she saw me and indicated it was okay to walk past to go into the bathroom that was directly beside her tattooing bed with a client laying on her stomach, being tattooed on her back.
As this happened, the woman on the tattooing bed looked up at me, and I could instantly feel the extreme malice coming from her—but her eyes weren’t on mine; they were on my neck. I started to hear a guttural growl of an animal, coming from this woman. I then knew she was looking at the cross around my neck. I looked at the shop owner, still with a smile on her face, and realized she could not hear the woman/animal growl—that it was strictly for me.
I had to make a quick decision: retreat and make excuses, or stand on my Saviour's promises. I chose to continue to the bathroom. As I walked past, I could see that she was getting a pentagram on the entirety of her back and had different occult symbols tattooed elsewhere on her body as well as all over her jewelry. It clicked in that moment: her demons were growling at the Holy Spirit living in me.
I stumbled awkwardly into the extremely tiny bathroom and prayed like I'd never prayed before. I prayed for protection and to be fearless in the face of this demon. I splashed water on my face, changed my clothes, and exited the bathroom, to be met again by a smiling shop owner. But this time, the growling woman would not look me in the eye and instead looked small and meek, almost cowering. Without saying much, [my cousin] and I left the shop as soon as I could get out of there. On our way to the car, I almost puked my guts out—overwhelming feelings of unwell.
I told my story to [my cousin]. We both prayed together before we left the parking lot but talked a lot about it in the more than hour-long drive to the core of Toronto. At the time, [she] nor I were living our lives for the Lord, so as was our habit, we smoked several joints in the car on the way down.
When we were fairly close to our destination, [she] said she had to warn me about the place we were about to go. Looking back, she definitely didn’t tell me prior, as she was worried I’d renege on driving her given what had just happened. She said that one of the men that ran the shop where we were picking up her tattoo machine was a vampire. If she had told me that the day before, I would have laughed at her—but now, I wasn’t laughing.
I said, "Um, pardon me?!?!" She explained that she had met him before several times. He had worked at this shop for many years and was a close friend of the shop owner in Aurora. He lived his life as a vampire and was a big part of that subculture in the Toronto underground vampire scene.
Great—just great. What have I gotten myself into? was all I could think.
She promised me they were "nice" people and begged me to be respectful as she needed to maintain a professional relationship with these people. I asked her if I could stay in the car while she picked up her order, but she begged me to come into the shop with her, as she didn’t want to face him alone. I agreed to come with her, but we said a prayer again before we got out of the car.
A parking space was available directly in front of the shop—an anomaly in Toronto. I think the Lord wanted us to have a quick getaway. We stood outside for 10 minutes so that [she] could have a cigarette, and then we headed into the shop.
It was an old part of the city and an extremely tiny place, with old wooden shelving everywhere, stocked with ink, needles, pedals, and machines for all different tattooing needs. [My cousin] was recognized right away and they said they were just finishing up packing her order in the back and it would just be a minute or so.
While we waited, [she] talked with the owner—an older man with a huge belly and a smoker’s cough—and a young, tall, blonde, very handsome man with very clear vampire teeth. He was mesmerizing. I've never experienced that kind of instant obsession with looking at someone—and he was also staring at me, all the while talking to them. I hung at the back at the side of the counter, trying to put as much space between myself and him as the little shop would allow.
At this point, he indicated to [her] that we should go outside so that she and he could share a smoke. As I mentioned, the shop was old and small. The counter was one of those old wooden counters that you lifted before you could then swing the little door open to get from behind the counter. Instead of doing that, as his boss—the large-bellied man—was in the way, he instead swung his leg over the counter, and I feel he deliberately came over to my side and feigned instability on his leg, as the other one was on the other side of the counter, and did a little hop even closer to me to get his balance. His mouth came within inches of my face and neck. He lingered there, sniffing in my smell. I couldn't have been more horrified.
He then, under his breath so only I could hear, said, "Mmmm you smell delicious," and licked his lips in an exaggerated way so that I could see his very sharp, pointy eye teeth. He had a very creepy smile on his face, as if he was looking at me like his prey.
This all happened so fast, but [my cousin] could see the clear distress on my face. She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me outside—where he followed.
I tried to keep a bit of distance between me and them while they shared a cigarette, standing closer to the car. But he kept maneuvering himself to be standing right beside me, and the closeness agitated him even more than it did me. I could hear his thoughts—telling me how beautiful and yummy I am, what things he would do to me, and how I would enjoy being his slave.
[My cousin] could hear none of this. I realized when I looked at her with "the look"—she was oblivious. The boss then called them back into the store as her order was ready and she had to pay. I could hear him talking inside my head even while they were in the shop.
I was so upset I dropped my keys getting them out of my purse and fumbled terribly as I unlocked my car to get in and wait for her to finish. By the time she got to the car I was bawling and could hardly see. I didn’t care—I took off and drove many blocks before I pulled over to tell her what had happened that she didn’t hear, and calm down and pray. We prayed together and talked of nothing else the rest of the way home.
About a year later, I saw him in a large crowd—also in Toronto. I was with my husband at the time. The crowd was going this way and that, but he was standing perfectly still, just staring at me with a big grin on his face. I didn’t hear him say anything in my head that time. It seemed like he was there waiting for me—somehow knew I was there and had sought me out.
I told my husband I was scared and we left immediately.
That’s the story, and all I can think of at this time. I’ve seen other things since, but that was definitely the day I understood evil—and that it walks among us.
