MY GRANDFATHER TURNS INTO A SNAKE AT NIGHT

MY GRANDFATHER TURNS INTO A SNAKE AT NIGHT

I have carried this secret for a long time. Sometimes I wish I could forget what I saw, but every time another family member dies, the memory comes back like it happened yesterday.

My grandfather has always been the richest person we know. He lives in a mansion that looks like something from a movie. Big gates, tall walls, expensive furniture, everything. But for some reason, he never wanted people inside. Not friends. Not neighbours. Not even us, his own family.

When we visited, he would keep us in one room and never allow us to walk around. If we asked to sleep over, g refused immediately. Growing up, I thought he was just strict or maybe he didn’t like noise. But now I know better.

For years, people in our family have been dying. Not strangers. Not far relatives. Our own blood. And every time we lose someone, my grandfather somehow becomes richer. More properties. More businesses. More land. We tried to explain it with life policies or lucky investments. We tried to make it normal because nobody wants to believe something dark is happening in their own family.

But everything changed the night we decided to check on him without telling him.

He wasn’t answering his phone for two days. That worried us because he lives alone. We drove to his mansion around midnight. The house was quiet, too quiet for a big place like that. Only one light was on — the lamp in the sitting room.

We walked slowly, calling his name. No answer.

When we reached the sitting room, we stopped. I don’t think I will ever forget what I saw there. My grandfather was sitting on his favourite recliner chair… but he wasn’t fully human anymore. His body was bending and twisting in a way that no human body should move. His skin was changing colour, becoming shiny and rough like scales. His arms were shrinking. His legs were disappearing.

He was turning into a snake.

Right there. In front of us. In the middle of his sitting room.

We didn’t even scream. We were too shocked. We just stood there, frozen, while he completed the transformation — becoming a huge snake resting on the chair like it belonged there. What scared me the most was how calm he looked. He didn’t even try to hide. He just stared at us with those cold, heavy eyes.

In that moment, all the pieces came together.

His sudden wealth,locked mansion.

His fear of visitors.

The endless deaths in our family.

The strange rules he made for everyone.

He wasn’t protecting us. He was protecting his secret.

We slowly backed away and left the house without saying a word. We didn’t tell anyone because who would believe that your own grandfather turns into a snake at night? People would think we are crazy. Even today, we don’t speak about it openly. It lives in our minds, heavy like a stone.

Now every time a family member dies, I already know what’s happening. I don’t even ask questions anymore. I just remember that night in the sitting room, that transformation, and the way he looked at us — like he knew we understood the truth at last.

He still lives in that mansion alone. Still rich. Still private. Still refusing visitors.

And deep down, we know why.