I had been dating Mark for three years, and our relationship was everything I dreamed of. He was charming, kind, and we shared a deep connection. Last month, he finally proposed me and asked to meet his parents. I was elated, it felt like a step towards a happy future together.

The day arrived, and I was a mix of nerves and excitement. Mark had always been private about his family, so this felt like a big moment. His parents’ house was in a secluded area, surrounded by dense woods, giving it a storybook charm.

The evening started pleasantly. His parents were cordial, and the house, with its antique decor, had a unique allure. As we sat down for dinner, they served a dish I had never seen before. It was a family tradition, they explained, and Mark seemed proud of it.My curiosity was piqued, and I asked about the dish. They evaded the question, insisting I try it first. As I poked at it with my fork, I noticed something unsettling — parts of the meat had hair on them, unlike any meat I recognized. And not just like a couple of hairs, all the meat was covered with them. Panic set in, and I excused myself, fleeing from the house in terror. It was my luck that we had driven there in my car. I sent Mark a text later, ending things between us. I couldn’t shake off an eerie feeling about what had transpired.

I felt lousy for the next few days. I was so in love with Mark, and in all the years we’d been together, he’d never given any sign that something odd like this would happen. He talked a lot about how his parents had raised him in love, how they were the most wonderful people, and how he owed them everything. All the moments we’d lived through together, now are just broken pieces of our story that tear my heart.

A week later, I saw a news report about a fire in the area where Mark’s parents lived. The cause was candles used in some rituals. I continued watching, and soon it became clear that the house shown was theirs. I felt a shiver run down my spine. What kind of rituals had they performed in this house? Comparing this news with what I had seen in their house, I became even more petrified. It felt like I had escaped from a cage with a hungry tiger, and I was grateful for my narrow miss. But I was still confused about what exactly they had been doing there. More importantly, why had they been doing these things? Now, here’s the twist.

Months passed, and I couldn’t get the incident out of my mind. One day I met a mutual friend of Mark and me. We hadn’t spoken in a while. He and Mark had had a fight about a year ago, and we hadn’t seen each other again. Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked about Mark and his family. The friend told me that my ex and his parents were into occultism. Mark had told him the secret himself somehow. The friend confessed to being curious at the time, thinking it might simply be some kind of cool, fun tradition, similar to Halloween.

When Mark asked him to join them one day, he was excited and willingly agreed. He says he didn’t like what was going on when, before dinner, Mark asked him to help set up the main dish. The shock came when, having prepared the brazier, they started throwing meat with skin and hair into the cauldron. that’s when Mark told him that they believed dishes of this kind had the power to transfuse one with the energy of another person.

I was shocked by his story, and looking back, I wondered how it was that for all the years we were together, Mark seemed quite normal. I didn’t want to be happy that their house burned down, but hopefully, this was a lesson, and they would stop their disgusting traditions and rituals.


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