Blind mystic Baba Vanga and Nostradamus both made the same concerning predictions for 2025

Some of you may be considering what kind of New Year’s resolutions you could make as 2025 draws near. If these forecasts come true, then there’s no need to worry.

Yes, as 2024 draws to a close, the ghosts of the past become more audible as two of history’s most mysterious people, Baba Vanga and Nostradamus, make terrifying prophecies that never cease to both enthrall and horrify.

The prophetic abilities ascribed to these fabled seers have been a subject of discussion for many years, regardless of one’s stance.

Despite having died away in 1996, Baba Vanga, the blind Bulgarian mystic born Vangeliya Pandeva Gushterova, is credited with an amazing 85% accuracy rate in her predictions.

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According to The Economic Times, they have reportedly included Barack Obama’s presidency, the 9/11 attacks, and Princess Diana’s passing.

With predictions spanning the next three millennia (scroll to the bottom of the page for that delightful reading), her prophetic talent has left a lasting effect and cemented her place as a formidable force in the field of prophetic mystery.

Furthermore, the 16th-century French astrologer Nostradamus recorded his visions in the enigmatic quatrains of his book Les Prophéties, published in 1555.

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His predictions are credited with predicting significant occurrences as the ascent to power of Adolf Hitler, the murder of President Kennedy, and the September 11 terrorist attacks, solidifying his status as a visionary whose writings are constantly examined for hints about what lies ahead.

Unsettling Forecasts for 2025

2025 has been identified by both seers as a critical year with serious ramifications for the international scene:

Nostradamus predicts the rise of a dark cult and the establishment of an underwater dominion.

In the meantime, Baba Vanga adds a futuristic perspective to our comprehension of human potential when he anticipates the development of telepathy.

But the projections also have a darker tone when it comes to war predictions.

Both foresee a catastrophic war in Europe; Nostradamus refers to it as involving “cruel wars,” but he also cryptically states that “the ancient plague will be worse than enemies.”

Furthermore, Baba Vanga forebodingly says that this fight will “devastate” populations, which bodes ill for the near future and makes me wonder if I should really bother purchasing my yearly calendar featuring Neil Diamond.

And if that’s not enough to keep you up at night, Nostradamus also predicts the arrival of an asteroid on Earth, saying that “a fireball will rise from the cosmos, The world begs you to be a forerunner of fate. The fate of the Earth, a second chance: science and fate in a cosmic dance.

A Hint of Hope and Intriguing Extraterrestrials

There are glimmers of hope despite the ominous predictions.

According to Sky History, Nostradamus alludes to a potential end to the continuing conflict between Russia and Ukraine, speculating that interventions by countries such as France or Turkey might usher in peace and that both sides will eventually run out of energy.

Strangely enough, both seers hint at the prospect of extraterrestrial encounters; Baba Vanga, for example, speculates that aliens might show up at a big athletic event.

However, as I have already stated, Baba Vanga left us forecasts that would last for 3,056 years when he passed away. Needless to say, things don’t seem to work out well with the aliens.

Baba Vanga was a person who?

According to the Mirror, Baba Vanga, known as the “Nostradamus of the Balkans,” is said to have had an accuracy rate of 85%. Her forecasts have been known to come true even after her death.

At the age of twelve, she was supposedly blinded by a storm, during which her mystic talents apparently materialized.

However, what prophecy of the mystic has apparently come true in the past?

The terrorist strikes of 9/11

She made the menacing prognosis in 1989: “Oh, horror! The steel birds will attack and then the American brothers will fall. The terrifying allusion to “steel birds” may refer to the aircraft that Al-Qaeda hijacked and used in the horrific 9/11 attacks in 2001.

The Kursk’s sinking.

In 1980, Baba had a terrible vision of Kursk, Russia, being “covered with water, and the whole world will weep over it.” Her prediction was confirmed when a nuclear submarine sank close to Kursk in August 2000, killing 188 crew members.

Given the realization of those terrifying prophecies, it becomes plausible that you might want to worry about the following 3,000+ years. Here’s how she see the next three millennia developing, from the New York Post:

2025: The population of Europe will be destroyed by a conflict.

2028: Research on Venus as a potential energy source will start by humans.

2033: Sea levels will rise dramatically on a global scale due to the melting of the polar ice caps.

2076: Communism will take hold in numerous nations worldwide.

2130: Aliens will make contact with humans.

2170: Much of the globe will be destroyed by drought.

3005: A Martian civilization and Earth will engage in combat.

3797: The Earth is no longer habitable, and humans will have to leave.

5079: The end of the world.

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My Husband’s ‘Business Partner’ Showed Up at Our Door and Mistook Me for the Cleaning Lady — I Decided to Play Along

When a charming stranger knocked on my door, mistaking me for the cleaning lady, I decided to play along. But what began as an amusing misunderstanding quickly unraveled into a shocking revelation.

The smell of lemon cleaner hung in the air as I scrubbed the kitchen counters. The faint hum of the dishwasher filled the quiet house.

A woman cleaning her kitchen table | Source: Pexels

A woman cleaning her kitchen table | Source: Pexels

Cleaning wasn’t my favorite activity, but it kept my hands busy and my mind clear. I had just tossed the sponge into the sink when the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to find a man standing there, tall and polished, with a smile that could have been pulled straight from a toothpaste commercial. He held a leather briefcase in one hand and a sleek phone in the other.

A smiling man holding his jacket | Source: Pexels

A smiling man holding his jacket | Source: Pexels

“Hello!” he said brightly. “I’m looking for Mr. Lambert. You must be the cleaning lady. Liliya, right?” He stepped forward, offering a hand. “I’m his business partner, David. Nice to meet you.”

Before I could correct him, he glanced at his watch and added, “I’ve heard so much about you from Mrs. Lambert. She showed me your picture.”

A man talking to a young woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a young woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney

My heart skipped a beat. “Mrs. Lambert?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“Yes! She and Greg are always such a great team,” he said with a laugh.

Mrs. Lambert? Then who am I supposed to be? The cleaning lady? My curiosity got the better of me. If he thought I was someone else, I’d play along.

A nervous suspicious woman | Source: Midjourney

A nervous suspicious woman | Source: Midjourney

“Please, come in, sir,” I said with a small bow, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “So, you’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Lambert for a long time?”

“Oh, years,” David said, settling onto the couch. “They’re quite the pair. Always look so happy together.”

I forced a polite smile. My pulse raced as I grabbed a glass of water, needing an excuse to leave the room for a moment. Who is this Mrs. Lambert he’s talking about?

A nervous woman with a glass of water | Source: Midjourney

A nervous woman with a glass of water | Source: Midjourney

Back in the living room, I found David scrolling through his phone. He looked up. “You know, I have a picture of them. Let me show you.”

He passed me his phone, and my stomach dropped. There, smiling back at me, was my sister, Allison, arm in arm with Greg.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” David said.

A happy couple at a party | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple at a party | Source: Midjourney

I struggled to keep my composure. “When exactly was this photo taken?” I asked, my voice tight.

David didn’t notice. “Oh, about a year ago at a corporate event. Funny thing, Greg never really talked about his private life much. I thought he was single for the longest time. Then I ran into them on the street, and he introduced her as his wife.”

I swallowed hard and returned the phone to him. My ears were ringing, but David kept talking.

A man showing a photo on his phone to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man showing a photo on his phone to a woman | Source: Midjourney

“They’re such a lovely couple,” he said. “Oh, and she showed me a picture of you once. I asked her, ‘Who’s this beautiful woman?’ and she said, ‘Oh, that’s our cleaning lady.'”

My hands tightened around the glass I was holding. Cleaning lady? Is this some kind of joke?

I set the glass down and forced a smile. “You must have lots of photos of them together.”

“Absolutely! Here’s another one from the same event.” My head spun. David looked at me with concern. “Liliya, are you alright?”

A shocked woman on her couch | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman on her couch | Source: Pexels

I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face. “I’m fine, sir. Would you like some coffee while you wait for Mr. Lambert?”

David smiled, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

I walked back to the kitchen. Mrs. Lambert? My sister? What exactly is going on here?

A woman making coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman making coffee | Source: Pexels

I returned to the living room, my heart pounding but my face composed. David sat awkwardly on the couch, stirring the coffee I’d given him. He looked up and gave me a polite smile.

“David,” I began, my voice calm but firm, “we need to talk.”

His smile faltered. “Uh, sure. About what?”

I gestured to the silver-framed photo on the mantel. “Do me a favor. Take a closer look at that picture.”

A wedding photo on a shelf | Source: Midjourney

A wedding photo on a shelf | Source: Midjourney

He hesitated, then picked up the frame. His brows furrowed as he studied it. “This… this is you,” he said slowly, confusion creeping into his voice.

“That’s right,” I said. “And the man standing next to me? That’s my husband. Greg Lambert.”

David blinked, his grip on the frame tightening. “Wait. What are you saying?”

I folded my hands in my lap and leaned forward. “I’m not the cleaning lady, David. I’m Mrs. Lambert. The real Mrs. Lambert.”

A serious woman in a chair | Source: Midjourney

A serious woman in a chair | Source: Midjourney

His face went pale. He put the photo back on the mantel as if it had burned him. “I… I don’t understand. I thought…” He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“You thought my sister, Allison, was Mrs. Lambert,” I finished for him.

He nodded, still struggling to process. “She told me… Greg introduced her as his wife. She even showed me pictures of the two of them together. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know!”

A nervous man in a chair | Source: Midjourney

A nervous man in a chair | Source: Midjourney

I let the silence hang for a moment, watching him squirm. Finally, I asked, “David, why did you come here today?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “I came to convince Greg to sell his share of the business to me. But… it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

A tired man looking up | Source: Pexels

A tired man looking up | Source: Pexels

“Well, the share isn’t technically in Greg’s name,” David admitted, glancing at me nervously. “It’s under Mrs. Lambert’s name. Your name.”

“And my sister forged my signature to block the sale?” I asked, my tone sharp.

David’s eyes widened. “I… I didn’t know it was forged, but yes, she stopped the sale. I thought it was your decision.”

I laughed bitterly, hiding my anger. “It wasn’t. But thank you for confirming what I suspected.”

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

David looked as though he wanted to crawl under the coffee table. “I feel terrible about this. I didn’t mean to drag you into anything. If I’d known—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted, though my voice carried a steely edge. “This isn’t your fault. But since you’re here, let’s finalize the deal. How much are you offering for Greg’s share?”

A serious sad man in a armchair | Source: Midjourney

A serious sad man in a armchair | Source: Midjourney

David blinked, startled by my sudden shift in tone. “Uh, the original offer was quite substantial, but I’m willing to go higher if it means resolving this quickly.” He named a figure that made my head spin.

I kept my face neutral, though my mind raced. “That’s acceptable. I’ll handle the paperwork. Can you have your legal team send over the documents by tomorrow?”

A serious woman looking to her side | Source: Freepik

A serious woman looking to her side | Source: Freepik

“Yes, absolutely,” David said, nodding eagerly. “Thank you, Mrs. Lambert. I mean—”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a faint smile. “Let’s just get this done.”

The next evening, Greg burst through the front door, slamming it behind him. His face was flushed with anger, his tie loosened and his jacket slung over his arm.

“What the hell did you do?!” he shouted.

A furious man | Source: Pexels

A furious man | Source: Pexels

I was sitting on the couch, reading a book. I barely looked up. “Hello, Greg. Long day?”

“Don’t play games with me!” he snapped, throwing his jacket onto a chair. “You sold my share of the business! Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

I closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “I know exactly what I’ve done, Greg. I’ve solved your little problem.”

A confident woman on her couch | Source: Freepik

A confident woman on her couch | Source: Freepik

“My problem?” he shouted, his face turning redder by the second. “You had no right to sell that share! That’s my company, my future!”

I stood up, facing him. “Wrong. The share was in my name. And after what I learned, I decided it was time to take control.”

Greg’s bluster faltered. “What… what are you talking about?”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“I’m talking about Allison,” I said, my voice cold. “Your little ‘wife.’ Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Greg froze, his mouth slightly open. “Listen, I can explain—”

“No,” I cut him off. “I’m done listening to your excuses. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’ll be filing for divorce.”

Greg’s jaw dropped. “Divorce? Are you serious?”

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“As serious as I’ve ever been,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “And since you and Allison forged my signature, I’m entitled to compensation. The sale is already finalized. David will transfer the funds to my account by the end of the week.”

Greg staggered back, collapsing into a chair. “You… you can’t do this. You’re ruining me.”

I folded my arms, staring down at him. “No, Greg. You ruined yourself.”

A disgusted woman in a green sweater | Source: Freepik

A disgusted woman in a green sweater | Source: Freepik

Two weeks later, I walked out of my lawyer’s office with a signed divorce agreement in hand and a newfound sense of freedom. The settlement was more than generous.

Not only did I secure my rightful share of Greg’s business sale, but I also received significant compensation for the fraud committed under my name. Justice had been served.

Signing divorce papers | Source: Pexels

Signing divorce papers | Source: Pexels

I cut ties with both Greg and Allison. My lawyer ensured the fraud never escalated to court, but the legal threat was enough to shatter their carefully constructed web of lies. Greg lost his business, and as far as I knew, his relationship with Allison didn’t survive the fallout.

For days, I replayed the betrayal in my mind, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. But as time passed, anger gave way to clarity. They had taken my trust for granted, but their deceit had shown me a strength I didn’t know I had.

A sad woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels

A sad woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels

Standing in my living room, I glanced at the space where Greg’s picture once sat. It was gone now, replaced by a simple vase of fresh flowers. I smiled.

This wasn’t the end of my story. It was a new beginning. And this time, I would write it on my terms.

A woman dancing in the leaves | Source: Pexels

A woman dancing in the leaves | Source: Pexels

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