I Survived Three Creepy Predators In 2012

survived three creepy predators in 2012 that I never told you about… Until now.

What happened to me in 2012 is a TRUE STORY, and it is NOT something I made up for no reason. This is NOT something to joke about it. Luckily, I got out of danger alive. I could’ve been MURDERED in occultic ritual abuse or possibly human-trafficked in black markets or illegal auctions. I wish I had told you many ages ago, but I don’t know why I kept this information to myself. It’s hilarious how many years I absent-mindedly luggage my secrets with me without thinking about it until August 2021. I guess my incident in 2012 became so much more of regressed memories locked away inside my brain. It felt like a Writer’s Block, you know?

I thought at first that it wasn’t necessary to share, but I belatedly realized I should’ve made noises years ago.


At 19, I was mildly adorably cute with a skinny body in 2012, but in 2021, my age doesn’t get any better with the superficial beauty at 29. I’ve been getting fatter and less attractive since February 2013 due to taking anti-psychotic medications. These drugs are for people who biologically struggle with severe mental health issues. Please understand this. You must understand how these medications work because the side effects are no joke! The side effects of anti-violent drugs can surprise you in many ways you never thought of before. These life-altering pills you’ve been prescribed by a psychiatric doctor can dramatically change your DNA cells! It can magically change how you look in physical appearance and body size. It’s almost like an actual witchcraft performance is already done with long before you know it. These pills have the power to manipulate your DNA as if they’re playing God. You can gain a bodyweight with an incredibly paunchy stomach and a puffy face. It made people think I was getting pregnant, like carrying something in my belly. No matter how often you work out to lose a fat stomach or weight, you’re NOT going back exactly like you used to. So, therefore I can’t go back into precisely the same form I was after experiencing the side effects of two different medications.

Risperidone/Rispderal 40MG and Flupenthixol (Fluanxol) 20 MG. In 2013, I had to take vaccines out of Flupenthixol, but Rispederal tablets can be taken in the mouth.

I’ve stopped taking ’em, and I was prescribed by a racist white psychiatrist who probably pretended to be anti-racist. I’ll tell you a long story about why I was on these two drugs in 2013, but I’ll save it for another time, not at this time. I don’t want to focus on this drug thing anymore. I’m just sayin’ why I got fat. Hold that thought in your head for now. You’ll see why at the end of this blog. 


I met three dangerous adults at the age of 19, but there were actually four scary adults at that time. I decided to remove the fourth story of Discreetly Street-Hustling Sex Manic Dude because I don’t think he’s a freemason member or anything with the satanic rituals. That dude is a black and probably closeted gay. He’d been trying to get me into his car and demanding me give him an oral sex performance. I politely said no to him twice already. The fourth time he insisted, I screamed loudly at the top of my lungs with my Deaf accent (voice box) to scare him away. I tried pronouncing “NO!” NO equals no! I don’t know if he could understand my voice, but he knew what my facial expressions were saying.


These three adults may have been the secretive members of the Illuminati and human traffickers. One of them is probably possessed by some malignant spirit. They were trying to get me somewhere. Look, I didn’t have a car because I don’t drive. I was offered free transportation. They strangely lure themselves towards me for bizarre reasons, probably because… I had these childish personality traits and charisma when I was 19, like Peter Pan, you know? As far as I assume, adult predators have an unhealthy obsession with underage children and young adults who are the Millennials and Generation Z. I don’t know them that well enough, but they were definitely creepy at the time of my encounters!

  1. Old White Man At Starbucks Offered Me a Free Lift (With Unexpected Results)
  2. Bus Driver With Creepy Stalker Eyes
  3. I Almost Got Kidnapped By The White Van (Is It a Man or Woman?)

I became a conspiracy theorist in October 2014 when I was 22, doing radical research on unpopular subjects of the Illuminati and secret societies. I was frequently informed by many online theorists about the murderous results of young people missing every day in human sacrifices, PizzaGate sex rings, and various numbers of weird rituals. After I got fat and ugly in 2013, I noticed that these predators stopped following me due to anti-psychotic drugs in my immune system. They stopped trying to lure me into the trap because they didn’t think I was attractive anymore. I guess I wasn’t a good fit for their marketing business.

So my question is, did the side effects of anti-psychotic drugs save my life from being the victim of these predatory encounters in 2013? Would I still be the victim of new stalkers and creepy predators if I wasn’t on drugs? Yeah or no, right? That’s what I’ve been wondering since February 2013.

In 2021, I was no longer a conspiracy theorist. Instead, I have decided to retire early at age 27 due to the backlash comments from the Saint Louis Jewish Community on Facebook through one Jewish woman’s FB wall. I was harassed and attacked by the friends and allies of this woman, Sawyer. She is the reason I stopped following conspiracy theories because I don’t want it to ruin my reputation when unintentionally insulting her Jewish history and her status quo. She’s accused me of denying her history linked to the website that does a research survey on Non-Jewish Folks in the poll voting: Is Holocaust A Fake History? 70% of Americans Say Yes. It pisses her a big time!


Unfortunately, that’s what the Saint Louis Jewish Community is led to believe that I was a Trump Supporter or Qanon Follower. That’s what they thought of me at that time in 2019. They didn’t believe me when I told them because they are constantly suspicious that every single body in the Conspiracy Theorist Community must be a Trump Supporter and a Qanon Follower at the same time! If you’re letting them know that you are Anti-Illuminati/Anti-Freemason, they would AUTOMATICALLY think you are siding with Trump Supporters and Qanon activists, period! You can’t argue with Jewish people if they decide that you’re one of them. You can’t discuss it with them! They won’t have any of your bullshit!



In October 2014, beginning of my CT journey, I never have heard of the QAnon website or group chats online until 2017 or 2018. I only read CT from books, not from the Internet. I read books by Issac Weishaupt. Sadly, I’ve seen that most of the conspiracy theories are written and published by white men. It’s no secret that the white men spread false gossip about the Government’s sketchy activities. I’m 100% aware of that. But that didn’t mean I always agreed with what they said. There is some information I identified with and related to. Still, not all of the information is politically correct or accurately linked with my real-life encounters in 2012 alone.


Webster Groves, Missouri

Between March to June 2012, the old white man I accidentally and randomly met at a Starbucks cafe in Webster Groves. At that time, I had no idea he was such a creep because I initially remembered looking for a Deaf-owned business known as DEAF, INC. But you see, the bizarre incident with the Old White Man was a bit longer before I got into that coffee shop. I remembered standing outside and facing alone in the middle of two-forked roads between East Lockwood Avenue and Big Bend Blvd.

I had trouble finding Deaf, INC from those two road forks between East Lockwood Avenue and Big Bend Avenue. I stood in front of a Starbucks coffee shop on Big Bend Avenue.

For your information: This street address was the first time I learned about Deaf, INC. I had NEVER been there before. DEAF INC was founded in 2008. Nobody told me about it until 2012. That was the same day I met the Old White Man on my way to Deaf Inc.

I went to Starbucks for a geography guide because Google Maps was a bit different back. It wasn’t visually upgraded like now in 2021. I usually ask random strangers to give me directions for the zip code and address. I typically avoided these employees and young adults because I was socially awkward, shy, and afraid to speak to someone my own age. I had a hard time integrating myself into the ableist society at the time. I was in the post-transitioning from the Deaf community in Fulton, Missouri. I have grown up in a Deaf boarding school since August 2002, so I was already being spoon-fed with the illusion of self-control, falsely conditioned, and colonized by the racist, patriarchal system. It was pretty tricky for me to find my sense of balance and rightful place after graduating from high school in the immense majority of able-bodied people here. I heavily suffered from social anxiety at the age of 19. I’ve always been clumsy with new areas of Saint Louis that I’ve never been to before.

So I chose a white male in his 60s from Webster Groves’ Starbucks. He was reading a newspaper or probably sketching blueprints on the table. I can’t recall what he was doing there at Starbucks, but I interrupted him. I asked him the notepad as I wrote, “Where is Deaf Inc.? I know it’s in Webster Groves, but I don’t know where it is.” He didn’t know why I was talking to him specifically. He stared at me like I was a fool. He couldn’t figure out why I was deaf when I told him. He doesn’t believe me and thinks that I made a prank out of his old white ass. I told him repeatedly, “Yes, I’m deaf. I cannot speak clearly or accurately.” Apparently, that.

Then he groaned with disgust and took pity upon me. He sent me visual indications from the windows with his index finger. I remember coming through the Webster University buildings. I realized it was so far away when I stopped by the intersection between the cafeteria and the Webster Library. So I went back to Starbucks about ten minutes later and asked the old white guy again. He groaned with frustration and did not like to repeat it to me. I asked him how close and how many blocks away from Starbucks. Sadly, I didn’t think he understood what I was trying to tell him because it was only small talk, and I promised I would leave him alone again, but it made it worse. He misunderstood and quickly assumed that I wanted a free lift.

Then he decided to get me to his car. I told him I didn’t want to go with him, but he kept pushing on. I couldn’t turn him down and felt terrible that I took advantage of him for nothing, but he was OKith OKng me free lifts. How was I supposed to say no to a free lift?

I’m like, what the hell? I got into his car.

The first 3 things I noticed about his car were when I entered the front passenger seat: Strange odor. Candle or somewhere between mold and ritual. I didn’t get a proper chance to pinpoint it. I saw the brown ropes, made of hay or something, in the back of his car. I didn’t understand why he had these things in the back of the car instead of the trunk. The spiral rings of the rope are VERY telling! What if he’s plotting to use it for human sacrifice? What if he’s lynched black people late at night? What is it for? Does it for poaching stray animals or riding horses? Farm duties? At first, I thought he could’ve been a rancher, but I realized it was impossible. Because Webster Groves does NOT have a farm country here in Kirkwood. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t add up. I didn’t even ask him. I was too afraid to ask. I meant no harm or disrespect to him.

I turned a blind eye to the red flags that had initially tipped me off, but I silently let him get his car out of Starbucks.

In about ten or seven minutes, Old White Dude took me to Schnucks the Grocery Store in the parking lot. He had already driven past the Big Bend Avenue, where Webster University buildings and academic zones are. He parked his car in front of this store. 

Schnucks Webster (Grocery Store)

Then I saw the small-sized building of DEAF INC within a few distant meters of the grocery store. This company is a next-door neighbor of the Schnucks, of course. I belatedly realized my error way of thinking. Big Bend Avenue wasn’t very long walking as I initially thought. I realized I could walk 20 minutes away from Starbucks to Deaf Inc. As soon as the Old White Man saw my index finger pointed to the building of the Deaf Inc. He sighed again in frustration, and then he left the parking lot of Schnucks store. He started pulling his car over there in front of DEAF INC!

Next to Schnucks Store

I started off awkwardly and politely thanked the Old White Man for dropping me off at DEAF INC. I also tried to leave his car, but in a split second, he actually AMBUSHED me just a few seconds before I fully opened the door. At first, I thought he ambushed me by stabbing the knife in the middle of my chest when it was his clenched fist. His clenched fist came straight into my heart, but he didn’t really hit me like that. He was tryin’ to keep me from leaving his car! At the same time, my heart pounds so hard! I never saw this coming! This is exactly where I realized: “Am I inside the car with the serial killer?” Many paranoid thoughts came directly into my head when he hit my heart like this!

He spoke to me while smiling threateningly as I read his lips.

Old White Man: “What’s your name, boy?”

I felt like I’m having a conversation with Hannibal Lector. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I had to lie.


I suddenly remembered the name of my grandfather, Jessie. I wrote my fake name and showed it to him. He made repeated attempts to pronounce my false name. He makes me nervous all of a sudden.

Old White Man: “Where do you live?”

I lied again to keep my identity safe.

“Here. I’m new to this place. I just moved in.”

He seemed a bit skeptical about what I told him. I nodded to convince him that it was no bullshit.

Then he eventually let me out…

I had this impression that he was behaving like a monstrous cat and treating me like a small-sized mouse (while his clenched fist blocked my heart). For instance, a cat picks up a mouse between its paws that runs off holding a tail, then the cat lets its prey go for a fleeting moment before feasting on the mouse. The cat likes to trap a mouse between its paws, so that’s exactly what it feels like to have his hand keep me from leaving his car. His clenched fist returned to his side. Once he unwillingly freed me from his car, I knew he was a creepy predator, and he was definitely something. I have no idea what his motive is, but there’s something SERIOUSLY wrong with him!

Years later… Now in 2021…

I realized something. There is one place that’s possibly connected to the Old White Man. Take a look!

What if The Old White Man is a Mason? What if he’s a devil worshipper who wanted to use me for sacrificial purposes? Or… Racially motivated murder by lynching? Conspiracy theorists, can you solve this mystery?


Delmar Loop Station, Hanley Road Station, & Central West End (STL, MISSOURI)

From April to July 2012, I had a disturbing encounter with a tall black guy with long dreadlocks, and he was a former bus driver. I met him at three other bus stations and MetroLink Trains in Saint Louis, Missouri. His age was between 40 and 45. This creepy stalker previously worked for the bus company STL METROBUS. He kept coming back to me and making weird attempts to hook me up, trying to seduce me with his creepy smiles. I knew he was a very eccentric predator right after interacting with him. His presence was profoundly predatory around me. I didn’t find him that attractive. 

The reputation of the stalker in his eyes watching me like that is particularly disgusting. His eyes seemed to glow yellow and green, but I don’t think they were hazelnut eyes. Perhaps, he had these eye contact with him as he showed off publicly that way because his eyes are so utterly unnatural to me. It made me want to think that he’s actually possessed by a malignant entity from within.

He grinned straightforwardly at me like a Cheshire cat with yellow eyes. He gave me his number and briefly disclosed that I should call him sometimes. I didn’t take his number and threw it in garbage bins twice. I met him in July 2012 on the MetroLink Train at Delmar Loop Station for the third time. He gave me the torn piece of paper with his number right in front of teenagers and young grownups gazing oddly at me. I decided to pull it that he gave me in front of them to save myself from shame and homophobia. I didn’t need these bystanders ridiculing me for accepting his number. He clearly didn’t see that this made me feel uncomfortable.

Every time I met the bus driver – – In fact, not every time. I met him three times in 2012. I could smell the reptilian shit on him like a sulfuric rotten black egg! I think he’s got some kind of reptilian entity deeply connected to him, like a horror movie of Invasions of Body Snatchers. This unpleasant odor is not natural, although the bus driver already washed before coming to work and has a clean bill of health. I realize his spiritual energy surrounding him doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe he can’t be visually detected in plain sight. I was still able to smell it on him. My nose acts as a psychic dog to a paranormal investigation, don’t ask me how I know that. I’m just saying that. I kept thinking that I could sense evil spirits around him, even if I didn’t see them in front of me. Maybe my nose is hallucinating, or I’m overthinking for nothing. I have no way of knowing. I wish I knew. What, weird drugs or something? Acid cigarette? Whatever it is, his scent came off as a stinkin’ SERPENT!

I called the bus company to blow the whistle on him. Thankfully, he got terminated. I didn’t see him ever again. I thought that he may have been a vampire wannabe, Voodoo shit, or a cannibal. I don’t know whatever the hell he is. I don’t want him. I don’t care about him.

In October 2013, I had these recurrent flashbacks from that bus driver that haunted me when I watched the third season of the American Horror Story, titled Coven. This anecdotal character, Papa Lebja, with red eyes glowing at night and long black dreads. This one with the eyes and the hair brought me back to the day I met the bus driver one year earlier. What a coincidence in my life! It’s just a bit too much for me to think about.

Papa Legba in Season 3 of American Horror Story. Courtesy of Ryan Murphy/FX Channel TV.

I didn’t even think about the bus driver till October 2013 on the FX channel via my TV set. What is so unusual about him is that the actor looked a bit like him, but the skin color of the bus driver is light brown or slightly yellow. His skin ain’t that so dark. It’s different between him and the bus driver. It’s just so surreal as fuck that I almost RECOGNIZED him!


(Is It A Man Or Woman?)

Bellefontaine Road, Saint Louis, Missouri

The third incident occurred to me between November and December 2012. I guess that’s the last time I ever met someone this creepy. Like I said before, I used to be skinny and decent-looking when that white van thing happened in my hometown. After the third incident, I became fat and ugly in February 2013 on anti-psychotic medications. Suddenly, those unwanted stalkers stopped harassing me, not even during 2014, 2015, 2016, and so on… By the time I was getting older during my early twenties, they had lost interest in me. I guess they only love stalking and preying on young people under 19. I cannot remember the month of the third incident on Bellefontaine Road. I feel very strongly that it must be in November 2012.

I walked out of McDonald’s on Bellefontaine Boulevard. But just before I left McDonald’s, I spent most of the day writing stories and watching Netflix on my Dell laptop. I could not access WiFi Internet at home, so I went to MCD instead. So, when the MCD closed at 10 PM, I had to leave and couldn’t stay overnight there. These employees told me to come back the other day when it’s open again. I didn’t protest or complain. I just went out of the building, walking on my feet. I didn’t have a car at that time.

I went down the right side of Bellefontaine Road. If you are on this street, you would’ve noticed that this road is too long for you to get home. Especially when it’s late at night, it can be eerily quiet and dull fields of meadows. Yet you may see some buildings on Bellefontaine Road on either side: White Castle, ALDI store, Baptist Church, Gas Station, and an Asian restaurant. That’s the road I grew up on, on my shitty shoes, walking, and bike. I could see a bit exceptionally far, but not too far, horizontal lines of Bellefontaine Habilitation Center fostered people who struggle with mental health issues and those dependent on the Government as a ward of the state. My mama used to work there, but she decided to quit after experiencing hostile environments. I kept walking beside the fencing wall of rocks at a three-foot-high where it stopped at my waist. When I was a little kid, I played with my feet, tiptoeing, catwalking, tight-roping, and high-wire walking at the top of the fences and curbsides. I even pretended and imagined myself marching the army on the Great Wall of China in its resembling version, but I know it’s just an enclosed fence and nothing more. You call it borderline, fence, border, wall, or bar. This is still privately owned by the Bellefontaine Habilitation Center. It was fun to do the tightrope walk on street curbs in my childhood days. Use your imagination and freethinking thoughts while you walk on the curbs and the tops of the fences. The more you practice, the more you act like you’re on top of the world. I was very sassy at that time.

As I said, it’s a bit long road that drags on walking, and I was going back home. Then, a few minutes later, something popped up behind me. I saw the white van creeping up behind me as I looked across my shoulder. The white van started stalking me as I walked home, but that’s when I stopped wanting to stop walking down this street.

Then the white van parked before me at that point, no matter who that person was in the front seat trying to address me. I couldn’t see a man or a woman in the driver’s chair because it was so fuckin’ dark! The windows of the vans on either side are heavily shaded, tinted, and opaque. I couldn’t distinguish the silhouette from the form or outline of this driver.

I said, “I’m deaf! I can’t hear you.” I’ve got my index finger on my right ear. Yet, no matter who that driver was in the white van, that person made no attempt to turn on the lights from within the driver’s seat. That’s when I realized I was so terrified for my safety that this driver won’t identify or reveal a face or a gender.

I slowly realize that the driver is waiting for me to get in to be drugged and knocked out for the abduction. Because I was afraid of being kidnapped by an unknown stranger, I decided to walk in, reversing backward and avoiding the white van. I tried escaping it in a hurry. My heart went berserk since I thought I would be killed or kidnapped. I thought this was how my life was going to end!

I wasn’t ready to die at 19 years old!

Whoever the fuck this is, the driver already had circumnavigated the white van in a U-turn style. It began to follow me once again, causing me to get more goosebumps. I knew it was time for me to die! My heart has turned its brain into a total terror.

I bounced over the white rocky fences, sprinting away from the white van so fast, so hard. I’ve been breathin’ so hard. I ran toward the Bellefontaine Habilitation Center areas, but I didn’t go that far. I just had to distract the driver from making sure this motherfucker didn’t find me.

The white van rotated as it entered the Bellefontaine Habituation Center, even though the driver didn’t go to those home groups. It came to a halt 50 yards away. I diverted myself away from home groups and holing up behind the tree.

Behind the tree, I had to check out the white van that went into the private property as it crossed the prairies and stopped there, waiting creepily with the headlights on at me. Whoever that person is, it’s looking out for blood. I was not letting it get the best of me, so I decided to run away as far as I could. I had to use different routes to ensure no one was following me. I left this scene.

I finally made it home. I survived whatever the hell it was!

I told my mother that night at home, but I returned to McDonald’s the next day. I remembered seeing the white policeman enter the MCD on the same day. He was purchasing an espresso drink, and I just knew I had to tell him what happened last night, and maybe he could help me. I asked my mother to talk to him through sign language so she could interpret what I told him. My mother repeated his words to me what the white male police officer had told her. 

White Male Cop: “This is a rare occurrence. It’s not every day, or often. That is extremely rare. It’s gonna be OKOKit’s gOKna be OKOKIt is OKt necessary to carry out a police investigation.” 

I didn’t realize he was unconcernedly minimizing me and claiming that it wasn’t criminalized enough to be taken seriously. This fascist pig rejected the idea of human trafficking and acted like it didn’t happen where I live. I mean, if I was white, he’d take me seriously. He just wanted to make me think everything would be OKOKin. 

Fine? Do you mean I’ll be OK wOKh the whitE VAN doing the same thing to other people like me? No way, I don’t think so. “Fine” doesn’t even make sense.

In 2021, when I relived some random flashbacks in my mind, these visually detailed memories made me realize that there are more questions than answers. What if he’s lying? What if he’s racist and doesn’t like answering questions I ask? When the incidental stories were related to human trafficking or kidnapping, I knew I had to stop seeking advice or feedback from white police officers. That police officer I met on Bellefontaine Road is supposed to lie or hide something sinister. He’s probably one of the human-trafficking operatives. I know there’s not much he needs to say, but I got the weirdest impression that he was secretly protecting his accomplices from Deep State or hidden criminal groups. What else does he know or not? Who knows what’s going on and what it is?

 Conspiracy theorists would love to investigate this shit, right? Right? You tell me!