Woman Tries To Remove “Snake” From Sink. Vet Arrives, Looks Once, And Says, "That's Not A Snake!"

Martha was rinsing dishes one evening when she saw what she believed to be a small snake slithering around her kitchen sink. Panicked, she trapped it under a glass and called the local wildlife rescue. The vet arrived, expecting a routine snake retrieval. However, upon closer inspection, his face blanched.

He stared at Martha, his voice trembling. "That's not a snake; it’s far worse."

Martha looked at veterinarian George, whose face looked pale. “What do you mean it’s not a snake?” she asked, her voice filled with fear. Her hand trembled as she pressed the glass down, feeling the “snake” moving around inside it. George searched for the right words, not wanting to scare Martha even more. Suddenly, he grabbed his phone and began to walk away. “Keep your hand on the glass. I have to call someone!”

He walked out of the front door, leaving Martha alone, struggling against the “snake’s” strength. It really wanted to get out from under the glass, and Martha had to do her very best not to let that happen. With the size of this thing, she was sure one bite would be enough to kill her. Her heart raced as she waited… and waited… and waited…

Just as her hand began to cramp, George returned. “What took you so long?!” she blurted out. Her arm was losing strength rapidly, and she needed George to switch places with her. “Here, you hold it down now,” she ordered, but George hesitated…

But what animal was actually in Martha’s drain? Why was Vet George acting so strange? And why didn’t he want to help her?

In the days before Martha discovered the animal in her drain, she had noticed strange sounds echoing through her house at night. At first, she had just assumed it was her house settling or something like that, but each night, it was somewhere else inside her house, and after a week, she began to hear those sounds during the day as well. 

She thought she was going mad: she even called a ghost whisperer who came to her house and told her various ghost stories. Luckily, her sister gave her a big reality check when she came to visit. “It’s probably just termites, you weirdo,” she said boldly, but it did make Martha rethink everything. She wasn’t scared anymore; instead, she was a bit disgusted.

She called an exterminator the same day, but when they came by, they told her she didn’t have a single termite in her walls or ceilings. She was back to square one, but she was exhausted and annoyed at this point. While washing her dishes, she got lost in thought, thinking about moving away, when she suddenly felt something move past her hand.

Martha drained the sink immediately. When it was almost empty, she saw the end of what she thought to be a snake’s tail disappear into her drain. Martha screamed and dropped her plate, which shattered on the ground, as she jumped backward. Chills ran over her body as she realized a snake had slithered past her hand. Then, it suddenly reappeared.

Without thinking, Martha grabbed a glass and placed it over her drain, not wanting the snake to slither into her house. With her other hand, she reached for her phone and called animal control. Her heart raced as she realized she was stuck in her kitchen until someone arrived to catch the slithery animal. She felt it move inside the glass but was way too scared to look.

After what felt like ages, someone rang her doorbell. “Come in through the backdoor!” she yelled as loud as she could, hoping the person at the door would hear her. She didn’t want to leave her spot as she didn’t want to risk the glass falling over. She heard the person at the door move around her house, and finally, a man stepped into her kitchen. 

The man introduced himself as George, a vet. Martha explained what she had seen and told George the animal was still underneath the glass. Intrigued, George stepped closer, and Martha lifted the glass slightly. After peeking underneath the glass, he shot upright and gasped. “That’s not a snake!” George yelled, his eyes wide in shock. Martha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What do you mean it’s not a snake?!”

Martha's frustration grew as George hesitated, unsure if he should intervene. "Why are you just standing there?" she snapped. George bit his lip, eyes darting between Martha and the glass. "I... I don't know if it's safe," he stammered. Martha's grip on the glass tightened. "I can't hold it forever!" she shouted. George took a small step forward but then froze again. Martha felt a surge of anger and desperation. "Do something, George!" she demanded, her voice shaking.

The creature pushed harder against the glass, making Martha's hand tremble. She could feel its strength increasing, as if it sensed her weakening grip. "It's getting stronger," she hissed through gritted teeth. George watched in horror as the glass started to tilt. "Hold on, Martha!" he exclaimed, finally stepping closer. The pressure beneath the glass intensified, causing Martha to sweat. "I can't hold it much longer!" she cried out, her knuckles white with effort.

Martha's voice cracked with fear, demanding George help her immediately. "George, please, I can't do this alone!" she begged, tears welling up in her eyes. George's face was a mask of indecision. He reached out but then pulled back, his hand trembling. "I need to know what it is first," he muttered. Martha's heart pounded in her chest. "We don't have time for that!" she shouted, desperation clear in her voice. "Just help me!"

George, sweating profusely, insisted it wasn’t safe to interfere. "Martha, I don’t think it’s safe to touch it," he said, wiping his forehead. Martha's eyes widened with frustration. "Then what do we do? Let it escape?" she retorted. George shook his head. "We need professional help," he explained, glancing nervously at the glass. Martha's patience was wearing thin. "You’re the vet here, George!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the kitchen. "Act like one!"

Martha's anxiety spiked as George refused to assist her directly. "You can't leave me like this!" she cried, her voice trembling with panic. George backed away, his face pale. "I'm sorry, Martha, but this is beyond my expertise," he said, his voice shaky. Martha's mind raced. The creature's movements became more aggressive, shaking the glass. She looked at George with pleading eyes. "Please, don't leave me alone with this thing," she whispered, feeling utterly abandoned.

George stepped back and quickly dialed a number, speaking urgently. "Hello? Yes, this is Dr. George Carson. I need immediate assistance at 345 Maple Street," he said, his voice rising with each word. Martha's heart pounded as she tried to keep the creature contained. George continued, "It's not a snake; it's something else. Please, hurry!" He hung up and glanced at Martha. "Help is on the way," he assured, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

Martha's hand ached, feeling isolated and desperate for help. Her grip on the glass was slipping, and the creature’s relentless pushing made it harder to hold on. "George, I can't keep this up much longer!" she called out, her voice strained. George hovered nearby, looking helpless. "Just a few more minutes, Martha," he said, trying to sound calm. She gritted her teeth, her mind racing. "I need real help now, not in a few minutes!"

George’s hushed conversation heightened Martha’s sense of urgency. She could hear him muttering into his phone, "Yes, it's serious. No, I don't know what it is." His words blurred into a background buzz as she focused on keeping the glass steady. The creature was relentless, and Martha’s strength was fading. "George!" she shouted, snapping him back to the present. He glanced at her, eyes wide with worry. "They're on their way," he reassured, but it felt like forever.

Martha pleaded softly, her voice barely above a whisper, for George to hurry. "Please, George, I can't do this alone." Her hand was cramping, the pain shooting up her arm. George moved closer, his face etched with concern. "Hang in there, Martha," he said, trying to sound confident. She could see the sweat on his brow. "I don't know how much longer I can hold on," she confessed, tears streaming down her face. "Please, hurry."

The tension in the room grew as Martha struggled to hold on. The creature was becoming more frantic, and the glass began to vibrate with its movements. "George, do something!" she cried out, her voice breaking. George looked around, desperate for a solution. He grabbed a towel and pressed it down on the glass, adding his weight to hers. "Just a bit longer," he whispered. Martha nodded, but inside she was screaming, every second feeling like an eternity.

Two more people arrived, equipped with heavy-duty gloves and tools. They moved quickly but carefully, their eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "We’re here to help," one of them said, nodding at George. Martha’s grip on the glass wavered as relief and fear mingled within her. "Thank goodness," she murmured. George stepped back, giving the newcomers space. "This is Martha," he introduced. "We need to contain this thing right away."

They cautiously approached Martha, concern evident in their eyes. "Hi, Martha," the taller one said softly. "We’re going to take it from here, okay?" Martha nodded, her eyes fixed on the glass. The other team member adjusted their gloves, ready to assist. "Just hold on a bit longer," they reassured. George stood by, his expression serious. The team exchanged a look, understanding the gravity of the situation. They moved closer, prepared to take over.