I bought a tarven from a ritualist who left his snake in the tarven without warning me

I have never written anything like this before. Honestly, I don’t even know if sharing this will help me or make things worse. But I’m tired of carrying this alone. I need someone to hear me. Maybe then I’ll understand what’s happening to me… or what’s about to happen.

Two years ago, I bought a tavern from a family that was relocating. They seemed friendly at first—laughing, smiling, talking about how the tavern had “potential.” They told me they were moving to another province and wanted to start fresh. Everything went smoothly until the very day I finished the last payment.

After that… silence.

They stopped answering my calls. My texts were left on “delivered.” I even tried calling from other numbers, but they blocked those too. I tried to convince myself they were just busy settling down. But deep down, something didn’t feel right.

Three months after I took over, tragedy struck. A fight broke out between two customers. One of them pulled out a knife. Before we could stop him, he stabbed the other man… right there on my tavern floor. The man died. I was shocked. I blamed the alcohol, the anger, the heat of the moment.

But then something happened that I could not explain. From the storeroom corner, I saw it. A snake. A snake with two heads. It crawled slowly across the floor and disappeared through the trap door in the ceiling. A trap door that, up to today, none of us has ever been able to open—no matter how hard we push, pull, or hit it. But the snake opened it like nothing.

I tried to forget what I saw. I told myself maybe I imagined it because of shock. But three months later… it happened again. Another fight. Another stabbing. Another death. And the same two-headed snake appeared again—same path, same trap door, same way it vanished.

And every time a death happened, something even stranger followed: business exploded. People flooded the tavern. Money came in like water. The pattern repeated every three months, like clockwork. Death. Snake. Trap door. Prosperity.

By the fourth incident, I knew this was not normal. It was not coincidence. Something else was going on. Something dark.

When the fear became too much, I went to see a sangoma. I told him everything. The moment I mentioned the snake with two heads, he stopped and looked at me like he had been expecting this story.

He said the previous owner had done a money ritual years ago. A ritual that brought success… but at a price. At first it needed animal blood. But later, it demanded human blood. The owner probably realized the snake spirit was becoming too powerful—too hungry—so he sold the tavern quickly and ran before the creature demanded his own blood.

And now… the responsibility has passed to me. The snake wants payment. The blood it gets from customers is only delaying things. Soon, it will want my blood.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m scared of going back to that tavern. But I’m even more scared of staying away. Every three months, my chest gets tight. I can’t sleep. I wait for the next fight, the next scream, the next death.

And the snake… that thing… it’s waiting too.

I’ve tried contacting the family again, but they’re gone. No one in their old neighborhood even remembers where they moved. Sometimes I wonder if they ever left at all. Sometimes I wonder if they’re even alive.

I’m writing this because I need answers. I need someone to tell me what to do. I need to know if there’s a way to break this… before it reaches for me.

Before the next three months are up.