TESTIMONY: Nicole Kane

About 20 years ago I was in the process of joining a Vampire coven. Yes, you read that correctly, a Vampire coven. I know it sounds like a motion picture, but this was my life for a time.  I will talk more about that later. Let me give you some background on how this all came to be.   

I grew up in a single parent home, with a large  family, in the Bronx, New York. My grandmother is the person who took care of me most of the time. My mother was otherwise engaged in partying and drugs. My father was incarcerated my whole life. By the time I officially met him at age 14-15 years old I was already my own person. 

Living on my own as a teenager was just my way of rebelling against authority and dealing with the abuse I had experienced from age 5 to 12.   How does a teen end up living on their own you might ask?  The answer is both simple and complex. Abuse and drinking will take you places you least expect.  I  began drinking as young as 8 or 9.  When my uncle asked me to get him another beer from the fridge I would drink some.  I also smoked weed starting at age 12, went to parties and dated older guys.

Depression and suicidal thoughts had taken over my life for as long as I could remember. I attempted suicide four times. I didn’t know until I was in my 30’s, that not everyone had thoughts of killing themselves. 

 The door to the occult began when I was 15 and I started listening to heavy metal -- Metallica, Marilyn Manson and Ozzy Osbourne to name a few. I began dressing in goth clothing, and read books on witchcraft and the dark arts. I also enjoyed the Harry Potter books that, although considered children’s books, contain real spells and hexes. I moved from NYC to Providence, Rhode Island with a young man I was in a relationship with. I continued to participate in these activities throughout my high school years.  

The attraction to the occult stemmed from the longing to belong to something -- a family, if you will, the lure of power in a life out of control and a willingness to pay any price to regain it.  In mine, I wanted power over my own body since that was taken from me at a young age. I decided that I would have power where I once felt powerless. 

When I graduated I moved back to the Bronx with my grandmother to work and attend school. It was here where I was introduced to what was called “The Scene'' by one of my oldest friends (who now is a Bible believing Christian, thank you Jesus).  “The Scene” (which I will now refer to as the occult) was a group of 10 or more covens who had meetings and raves to enact and participate in vampiric rituals. This  included, but was not limited to: body modifications, cutting parts of the body, the adding of hooks to one's flesh and suspending them in the air, body piercing, biting and eating of flesh, sexual orgys, drinking of blood and other rituals far too graphic to describe. All of these rituals were done as part of an initiation into the occult and into said coven. Everything revolved around blood  in some way or another.  I never did commit to a coven and was one of a few who were allowed to be in the midst of them, but not part of what they called the "family."

 Many of them wanted me to join their “family,” but for whatever reason (I know now it was all God) I never could make the commitment. They said I was beautiful and pleasing to the eye and that I was gifted and could be used. I never gave in to their flattery. I continued to go to their occultic parties and at times partook in drugs to escape my suicidal thoughts, only for the thoughts to be uncontrollable after. 

Occultic practices would cause me to have out of body experiences where I could see shadows and movements in the natural realm. I would see myself  from outside of myself partaking in things I knew would bring me the power I was looking for. The more power I wanted, the less of me I was. It is hard to put into words, but I was losing what little standards I had for the sake of power over my body.

I lost my job, dropped out of school and became ill. I had many boyfriends and still felt unloved. My family had no idea I had attempted suicide. I was drinking myself to death. A friend from Rhode Island said to me, “hey you’re not happy over there, nothing good is going for you, come back here and we can be roommates and get your life back on track.” I had nothing to lose so I packed and moved back to Rhode Island in the winter of 2002. In 2004 I was reacquainted with a few friends from high school and this was when my life began to change. 

One Sunday afternoon in the fall of 2004  I was in my apartment with a new roommate (another good friend from high school) and two male friends came to visit. I had not seen them in many years. I will never forget this day, because this was the day my life would change and I had no idea. They hugged me as they entered my apartment. I was getting ready to go to work and was getting my clothes and things ready. Marilyn Manson’s “Antichrist Superstar'' was playing loudly in the background as I was getting ready for my day. 

My male friends were dressed so nicely. I took notice and said, “Why are you guys dressed so nice, lookin’ like you coming from church or something”? I laughed. My friend “D” then said, “well actually we are coming from church.” I laughed even harder (foul language). “You gotta be kidding me!” I said. He said, “No” and proceeded to tell me how Jesus loved me and died for me so that I could have life, and life to the full. With anger and hateful words and swears I told him where he could take his “God” and where he and God could go. I said, “Where was your God when I was touched, raped and suicidal? How much does your God love me if he would let awful things happen to me throughout my life”?  I said, "No, you can have that God, I’m good where I am!"  I slammed the door to the restroom to get ready for work and when I came out D and my other friend were gone. 

Many years later I would find out that when D returned  to his car, he began to pray for me, for my salvation and my mental health. He prayed for me everyday after that. Later that year I would find a Bible within my many books and began to read the Psalms. I didn’t understand it, but I liked the words and how it read. I loved books. They provided a place I could escape to when I was experiencing some of the hard times I described above. So I just began to read. 

In 2005 I was invited to church by a man I found attractive who I knew from high school (God will use anything and anyone to get to you- lol). It was a Wednesday night Bible study.  I didn’t know how to use the Bible I had, and the gentleman was kind enough to show me what the numbers meant, and what the books, chapter and verses were. He invited me again to church for Sunday morning service. It was a cold March morning and I sat in the middle of a pew toward the back of the church with people on both sides of me. The pastor made an altar call. I cannot, even now, explain how this all happened. I closed my eyes as I was told, and without hitting anything or anyone I somehow made my way to the front of the church. I was crying and when I opened my eyes, things were different. I felt light on my feet, light headed and less heavy in heart somehow. People I didn’t know were hugging me and saying, "Welcome to the family."  I had no clue what they were talking about, and the guy who invited me had to explain to me that I had just been “saved” and what that meant. I’ve never looked back. 

Have there been struggles along the way? Yes. In times of struggling with my mental health journey I lost faith, but I never gave up. I trusted the God I was told about those many years before, because I met him for myself. He is faithful to His word. Men fail, but God never does.  Now I stand in the gap for others who have/are struggling with their mental health and those who dabble in the dark arts. 

I speak life into people who have been raped or molested. I am used by the Holy Spirit to bring freedom and deliverance to those who struggle with the very demons who tried throughout my life to take me out. I teach believers the way to sustain a life of freedom in walking in the truth of God's Holy Word. I am no longer a slave to the demon powers that once gripped my life. I am no longer  who I used to be, but who God always intended me to become. I am still a work in progress, as we all are in life, but I know God will never abandon me and He isn’t finished with me yet. 

If I can leave you with one thought about my story, I’ll leave you with this: If God can do it for me, He can most definitely do it for you. I am a miracle of God’s grace and mercy, and you can be too.