I SOLD MY SHADOW TO THE NIGHT CULT NOW I CANT STAND IN THE SUN OR DAYLIGHT

I SOLD MY SHADOW TO THE NIGHT CULT NOW I CANT STAND IN THE SUN OR DAYLIGHT 

“I Sold My Shadow to the Night Cult and That’s Why My Riches Follow Me Everywhere”

People envy me. They see the life I live, the cars I drive, the mansions I sleep in, the perfumes that cost more than someone’s rent. They call me “lucky,” “blessed,” or even “anointed.” But nobody knows the truth. Nobody knows what I gave up in exchange for this wealth.

Years ago, I was nothing. I slept on friends’ couches, begged for food, and prayed every day for just one breakthrough. I was tired of watching others live soft lives while I carried shame and hunger on my back. Then one day, at a child’s funeral, I met a strange woman. She was dressed all in black, her voice calm, and her words cut straight through my bones. She told me, “You don’t have to suffer. You don’t have to beg. There’s another way.”

I thought she was just comforting me, but her eyes held something I couldn’t explain. She gave me directions to a place outside town and told me to come only on the night of a new moon. Desperation made me go.

That night changed my life forever.

When I arrived, there were others already waiting—men and women dressed in cloaks, chanting in languages I didn’t know. They formed a circle, and in the center was a fire that seemed to burn without smoke. The woman from the funeral stepped forward and told me, “Tonight, you will trade your shadow for everything you’ve ever desired.”

At first, I laughed because it sounded crazy. But when I looked down, I realized something was already happening—my shadow was stretching unnaturally long, as if it wanted to escape me. They called my name three times. My body shook. My ears rang. I stepped forward.

In that moment, I watched with my own eyes as my shadow tore away from me. It didn’t scream, it didn’t resist. It just slid across the ground and disappeared into the altar fire. I fainted.

The next morning, everything started. Strangers I never met sent me money. Business deals I had no part in began to benefit me. Men of influence wanted me close. Banks approved loans I never applied for. It was like wealth itself was running after me.

But the riches came with chains. I cannot stand too long in direct sunlight because people will see I cast no shadow. Children sense it quickly—they scream when I walk into a room, pointing at me like I’m a monster. And the worst part is what happens at night. While I sleep, my shadow works for them. It goes out to harvest what they need—souls, energies, things I don’t even want to name. I wake up with headaches and screams echoing in my ears, as if the dead followed me back.

It also stole my womanhood. I have fallen pregnant more than three times, but each pregnancy disappeared like smoke in the wind. No miscarriage, no bleeding—just emptiness. I would go to the doctor and hear a heartbeat, and the next appointment there would be nothing. The cult takes everything that tries to grow inside me, feeding it to whatever owns my shadow. I live in a mansion full of silence, because no child has ever been allowed to call me “mother.”

My relationships crumble too. No man stays. At first, they are attracted to my riches, but soon they feel it—the coldness in my bed, the way I cannot stand in the sun with them, the way children cry around me. They leave with excuses, but deep down, I know they’re running from the curse that clings to me.

So yes, I am rich. I wear gold. I sit in luxury. But I will never again walk freely in the light. I will never again feel whole. Because a person without a shadow is not a person anymore. I am just a walking shell, a body bought by darkness.

And here is the part that truly haunts me: I often wonder what will happen when I die. A normal soul is escorted by its shadow into the afterlife. But mine is long gone, enslaved to the cult. Which means when my body finally gives in, there will be no shadow waiting to guide me. I fear I will be trapped between worlds—forever wandering, never buried, never remembered. Just a restless soul drifting in darkness, searching for the shadow I sold.

#DarkConfession #WealthAndShadows #SecretsOfTheNight #TrueCostOfRiches