I Went On A Date With A Girl Who Claimed She Worshipped The Devil, And Barely Made It Out Alive

I went on a date that spiraled from strange to downright terrifying when my date casually revealed her love for Satan and a suspiciously sacrificed goat. Surrounded by darkness, eerie family members, and cryptic symbols, I realized I might not make it out of that forest in one piece.

Several years ago, I was practically consumed with the idea of finding a girlfriend. I spent all my free time online, jumping from conversation to conversation, going on dates, and enduring rejection after rejection.

Frustrated, I made a dramatic vow: “Anyone who wants to meet me will get their chance.” I thought it was a brave stance to take. Little did I know, it would lead me to the strangest—and most unsettling—night of my life.

It all started with her online comment, a straightforward compliment about my photo. She thought I “looked good,” and after countless rejections, those simple words felt like validation. We chatted, exchanged numbers, and, after a few calls, she invited me to her place. I was hesitant; she lived an hour away in some remote town. But I remembered my vow. *Anyone who wants to meet me…*

I took the bus to a place so rural that even the driver raised an eyebrow when I asked him to stop “somewhere near the forest.” As I stepped off, I spotted her in the distance.

She was dressed all in black, wearing a long, fitted leather coat, her hair slicked back and her lips painted a dark shade. She looked like something out of *The Matrix.* I waved, trying to smile, but she only gave a subtle nod and turned, motioning for me to follow her toward the woods.

The road was completely unlit, and the forest swallowed up what little light there was. The silence between us felt heavy as we walked, and every attempt I made at conversation met with one-word answers or strange, lingering looks. The longer we walked, the more uneasy I became. *You wanted this,* I reminded myself, trying to calm down. *Just go with it.*

After what felt like an eternity of trudging through the darkness, the forest finally gave way to a gravel path, where a small figure emerged ahead of us. A young boy on a rickety bike started riding circles around us, his laughter high-pitched and haunting as it echoed through the trees. He wobbled on the bike, his movements erratic, veering into bushes and even bumping into tree trunks, only to get back up and circle around us again.

Finally, I couldn’t help myself. “Do you know him?” I whispered to her.
She turned to me with a blank expression, her voice chillingly calm. “That’s my brother. He’s… not like the rest of us. Don’t mind him.”

The way she said it sent a chill down my spine, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d walked right into a horror movie. Then I saw it: her house. Or rather, the house. One isolated, decrepit building standing alone in the middle of the forest, framed by looming, bare trees. The windows were dark, and the shadows twisted around it, making it look like something that shouldn’t exist.

My heart pounded as we walked up to the front door, which creaked open before she even knocked. Her father stood there, a tall, gaunt figure with deep-set eyes and a stare that pierced right through me. I awkwardly held out my hand, and he just looked at it with a puzzled expression. Her mother called from somewhere inside, her voice thick and scratchy, telling him to “let the boy in.”

I followed her up a narrow staircase, the walls lined with strange symbols and dark, dusty paintings that looked like they belonged in a haunted house. She led me into her bedroom, which was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

The walls were painted black, and a huge Satanic symbol took up one entire wall, painted in red and white. There were candles everywhere, casting flickering shadows on the walls, and her bed had skulls carved into the bedposts.

She sank to the floor in the middle of the room, crossing her legs, her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that felt like it could pull me in. “What should we do?” she asked, her voice low and almost hypnotic.

I froze, my mind racing. “So, you’re… a Satanist?” I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Yes,” she replied with a faint smile, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I worship the Devil.”

I forced a laugh, half-joking to lighten the mood. “Do you, uh, melt in sunlight or something?” She chuckled softly, but the look in her eyes stayed deadly serious. Then I asked, “Is that why you live way out here? Did the villagers drive you away?” I was only half-joking this time.

Before she could respond, her mother burst into the room. “Stop messing around; it’s time for dinner,” she barked, looking at me like I was an insect that had crawled into her house. “Hey, Kent_C_Strait, you eat goat, right?”

My stomach turned as I realized I hadn’t seen a single sign of a farm on the way here. Where had this goat come from? *What had they done to it?* The thought of eating something that might have been sacrificed in some ritual made me sick, and I stammered out a polite, “Uh, no thanks, I’m good.”

But the weirdness didn’t end there. As we sat down to eat, she kept bringing up her ex-boyfriend, a guy she described as an “alcoholic” who barely dressed and only wore clothes when people asked him to.

He’d apparently stalked her for a month to get her number, and they’d been together ever since, despite him having some “dark tendencies.” The way she described him made it clear she hadn’t exactly left that lifestyle behind.

After an agonizingly long meal, she finally offered to drive me back to the bus stop. I could have cried with relief, but as soon as I sat down in her car, she grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly as she looked at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

“I feel like there’s something between us,” she whispered. Her grip on my hand tightened as she continued, “I think… I think you love me.”

I kept my face as calm as possible, but all I could think was *Get. Me. Out. Now.* When we finally reached the bus stop, I tore my hand away and practically ran onto the bus. As the bus pulled away, her texts began flooding my phone, the first one reading, *“You will never leave me.”* I blocked her number then and there, muttering under my breath, *You’ll never see me again.*

It was hands down the weirdest, creepiest date of my life, and to this day, the memory of her Satanist shrine, the eerie little brother, and that isolated house sends a chill down my spine.

I know many of you may think this is fiction, but I just want to underline that this actually happened.

This story is based on a true story. All the names in the story have been changed.