Spirits, Cults, and the ByWard Market Trap: Why Politeness Almost Cost One Woman Her Safety
It was a bright, bustling July afternoon in Ottawa’s historic ByWard Market. Among the crowds of tourists, street performers, and locals enjoying the summer sun near the iconic BeaverTails stand, one young woman was sitting quietly on a bench, minding her own business.
What began as an ordinary summer day quickly spiraled into a disturbing psychological trap.
An unknown woman, appearing to be in her mid-thirties, walked up to the bench and sat down next to her. She looked friendly and unthreatening. However, the conversation took an immediate and unsettling turn.
The stranger looked directly at the young woman and stated with absolute certainty that she could tell she believed in God. When the victim laughed and gestured to her hijab, assuming her religious attire was the obvious clue, the woman firmly corrected her. She claimed it wasn't her clothes at all, but rather that she could feel her spiritual energy.
What followed was a rapid, unyielding torrent of bizarre claims. The stranger began speaking at an unnatural pace about shifting auras, spiritual colors, animal energy, and past lives. When the victim tried to interject or end the conversation, the stranger simply talked over her, seemingly unable or unwilling to register her discomfort.
Then came the chilling climax of her monologue: the stranger declared that it wasn't actually her speaking, but rather the spirits possessing her—spirits that had supposedly been hunting for the victim across Ottawa for three straight days.
Before the young woman could process the claim or find a safe way to excuse herself, a second person entered the picture. An unkempt man with long, matted hair and striking blue eyes sat down on the other side of her. Although he had the appearance of someone living on the streets, the woman greeted him with instant familiarity.
The man immediately joined in, repeating the same eerie spiritual slogans and phrases in tandem with the woman. Trapped between two strangers acting in bizarre synchronicity, the young woman felt intense panic setting in.
Despite wanting to escape for over half an hour, social conditioning kept her planted on the bench. She wrestled with the internal pressure not to appear rude to people who were actively invading her personal space.
Realizing she had to break the cycle, she finally blurted out that she had to leave. When the pair unnervingly asked if she would meet them at the exact same location the following day, she lied, agreed to the meeting, and fled into the crowd. She avoided the ByWard Market for weeks afterward.
The story has sparked intense discussion online regarding personal safety, boundary enforcement, and urban cult tactics.
Many observers focused on the danger of social politeness. One commenter stressed that it is always acceptable to stand up and walk away, noting that the strangers were the ones who were being profoundly rude by ignoring visible distress. Another cited Gavin de Becker’s famous safety manual, The Gift of Fear, reminding readers that predators frequently exploit a victim's desire to maintain social grace.
Others pointed to a more sinister possibility: predatory street cult recruitment. Local insiders highlighted that groups like Ottawa’s controversial Fire of God Church have long utilized similar high-pressure street tactics, often deploying vulnerable or mentally ill members in pairs to target isolated individuals, immigrants, or visibly religious passersby.
On the latest episode of Close Calls, our hosts dissect every layer of this unsettling encounter, debating whether social politeness is our greatest vulnerability—and how to break free when strangers target you in broad daylight.