Black Magic Battle

Once the first two black magic practitioners gave up, resigned to their fate that death was coming, Hong found a new ally, whom I refer to as “Vietnamese Black Magic Guy #3.” According to Jasmine, this guy was mixed-race, in his mid-twenties, and likely had a French grandfather. He had a strong reputation throughout the deep south of Vietnam as a powerful voodoo practitioner, living about two hours from Hong’s village, deep in the mountains.

Jasmine warned me that this guy was on a completely different level and that his attacks would be much stronger than anything I’d faced before. She also relayed a message from my great-grandmother: for the first few months while this guy was attacking, I shouldn’t drink alcohol during the full moon. As usual, Jasmine was right.

The first attack from this guy was intense. During the full moon in March 2017, I was lying in bed when I heard a loud banging on my front door. I jumped up to check, but no one was there; my Ring Doorbell didn’t catch any movement. I was baffled. About 20 minutes later, as I drifted off to sleep, it felt like a theater curtain ripped open over my eyelids. Suddenly, everything was vivid and chaotic: I found myself in another dimension, surrounded by several human-looking, evil entities; some angry, some laughing, with strange energy swirling all around. It was pure chaos.

I remember a western-looking guy right in my face, and I was choking him, yelling, “Do you think you’re going to kill me, mother-fucker?” After a few minutes, I woke up with my heart racing and a fast crackling sound coming from my nose. The rest of the night, I kept hearing the same banging, four knocks, every few minutes, but nothing happened once I finally fell asleep.

The audio clips below document my battle with this third black magic practitioner, from the very first attack until his death six months later. This was the most intense spiritual warfare I’d ever experienced, but ultimately, it was another fight I survived.