Seven months pregnant, I agreed to house-sit for my brother and his wife while they went on vacation. One afternoon, while exploring the basement, I stumbled upon three mysterious trash bags. What I found inside sent me running for my life, and it haunts me to this day.
“Run, faster, faster, Celina,” a voice screamed in my head as I stumbled through the dense woods behind my brother’s mansion. Seven months pregnant, I gasped for air, one hand clutching my swollen belly, the other pushing away branches that scratched at my face…
The next bus stop was just ahead of these trees. How could I have been so blind? So trusting?
I glanced down at my trembling hands, sticky with drying blood. Wiping them on my dress, I whispered, “We’re safe, my baby. We’re safe. Someone will help us get home.”
It all started two weeks ago…
I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through my phone when it buzzed with an incoming call. My brother Victor’s name appeared on the screen.
“Hey, big bro! What’s up?” I answered, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension that had been growing between us lately.
“Celina! How’s my favorite sister?” Victor’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Listen, I need a big favor. Anne and I are going out of town for a week. A friend’s wedding and a little vacation. Could you or Paul house-sit for us?”
Before I could respond, I heard rustling and then my sister-in-law Anne’s voice came on the line.
“Oh, Celina, you’ll love staying here! Don’t worry about anything, sweetie. The house practically takes care of itself.”
I hesitated, thinking about the cold shoulder Anne had been giving me recently.
Our relationship had become strained over the past year, ever since Paul’s business took off and our financial situation improved dramatically. Meanwhile, Victor had struggled with a series of failed ventures, and I could see how much it was affecting him and Anne.
The breaking point seemed to be my pregnancy announcement. While the rest of the family had been thrilled, Anne’s response was tepid at best.
She hadn’t even shown up to my gender reveal party, claiming she was “too busy” when I asked why she hadn’t come.
I knew it was a lie. Anne and Victor had been trying to conceive for years without success, due to some health issues she was facing. My easy pregnancy was a painful reminder of everything they had been unable to achieve.
There was also the incident last month when Anne hosted a celebration for Victor landing a big contract. Paul and I weren’t invited, and when I confronted her politely about it later, she brushed it off with a flimsy excuse about “limited space.”
The hurt and confusion from that still lingered.
But now, here she was, asking me to house-sit. Was this her way of offering an olive branch? Maybe she was finally ready to move past her jealousy and resentment. Despite my doubts, I couldn’t help but hope that this could be a turning point in our relationship.
“Sure, I’d love to,” I said, hope creeping into my voice. “When do you need me?”
“Morning, eight, okay?”
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
As I hung up, my husband Paul walked in, his brow furrowed as he noticed my expression.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
I explained the situation, watching as concern clouded his face.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked gently. “Things have been tense with Anne lately.”
I sighed, rubbing my belly absentmindedly. “I know, but maybe this is her way of trying to make things right? Besides, it could be nice to get away before the baby comes.”
Paul didn’t look convinced, his brow still furrowed in worry.
“I wish I could go with you, but I’ve got those crucial client meetings all week,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”
I nodded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “It’ll be fine, honey. I can handle it.”
Paul still seemed doubtful, but he nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”
I leaned in, kissing him softly. “I promise. I’ll be fine.”
The next morning, I stood outside Victor and Anne’s mansion, waving goodbye to Paul as he drove away after dropping me off.
Victor and Anne emerged, their suitcases in hand.
“Celina!” Victor swept me into a gentle hug, keeping a respectful distance from my growing belly. “Thanks again for doing this. We really appreciate it.”
Anne’s smile seemed forced as she air-kissed my cheek.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, her voice overly sweet. “Everything you need is inside. We’ve got to head to the airport. Enjoy your week, darling!”
And just like that, they were gone, leaving me alone in the vast house.
I wandered from room to room, feeling oddly out of place.
My phone buzzed with a text from Paul: “Miss you already. Call if you need anything. Love you both.”
I smiled, replying quickly before settling on the couch. As night fell, the house felt even emptier and more imposing.
The taxidermied animals on the walls seemed to watch me, amplifying the feeling that I was being observed.
Three days passed in a blur of Netflix binge-watching and long naps.
On the fourth morning, I decided to be productive. After my daily call with Paul, I cleaned the kitchen and went to check on the furnace in the basement.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes fell on three large garbage bags tucked in a corner.
“Weird,” I muttered. “Anne must’ve forgotten to take these out.”
I snapped a quick photo and sent it to her with a joking message: “Forgot something? Don’t worry, I’ve got trash duty covered!”
Seconds later, my phone lit up with notifications. A text from Anne read: “DON’T TOUCH THEM! SERIOUSLY, GET OUT OF OUR BASEMENT! NOW.”
Before I could even process her response, she called.
I answered, confused. “Anne? What’s going on?”
“Celina, listen to me,” she hissed. “Get out of the basement. Now. Don’t look in those bags. Just go upstairs and pretend you never saw them.”
“But—”
“Just Go. Please.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, backing away. “I’m leaving now.”
I hung up, my heart pounding. What could possibly be in those bags that would make Anne react like this?
Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, curiosity won out.
I approached the nearest bag, my hands shaking as I untied the knot.
As I opened it, the bag tore and its contents spilled out onto the floor. The moment my eyes landed on what was inside, my blood ran cold.
Ritual tools. Decayed chicken bones and feathers. And voodoo dolls. Dozens of crude, handmade dolls, each bearing a photo of MY FACE. Many were stained with a dark, reddish-brown substance and reeked of rot. The stench of decay filled the air, making my stomach turn.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, stumbling backward. “Oh my God, oh my God. This can’t be—”
I fumbled for my phone, dialing Paul with trembling hands.
“Baby,” I choked out when he answered. “I need you to come get me. Now.”
“Celina, breathe,” Paul’s voice crackled through the speaker. “What happened?”
I tried to explain between frantic breaths, my words tumbling out in a panicked jumble.
“Bags in the basement… voodoo dolls with my face… blood… Paul, I think Anne’s trying to curse our baby!”
“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered. “Okay, listen to me. Get out of that house right now. Don’t wait for me, just go to the bus stop on the main road. I’m on my way.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I bolted up the stairs, grabbed my purse, and raced out the front door. The woods behind the house offered a shortcut to the road, and I plunged in without hesitation.
Branches whipped at my face as I ran, my pregnant belly making it harder to move. My breathing was ragged, punctuated by the snapping of twigs beneath my feet.
Finally, I burst onto the road, the bus stop just a few yards away. I collapsed onto the bench, gasping for air, my hands and clothes smeared with dirt and blood from my frantic flight.
Minutes later, Paul’s car screeched to a halt in front of me. He rushed out, hurrying to my side. “Celina! Are you okay? The baby?”
I nodded weakly, letting him help me into the car. As we sped away, I shakily recounted everything I had seen.
Paul’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted them,” he muttered. “Especially Anne. The way she’s been acting lately…”
“I can’t believe she’d do this,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “My own sister-in-law… how could she hate me this much?”
Paul squeezed my hand, trying to comfort me. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, let’s just get you home and safe.”
The next few days passed in a blur of fear and disbelief.
Anne called me repeatedly, but Paul insisted I shouldn’t speak to her until Victor returned. When they finally came back from their trip, I steeled myself for the confrontation.
We met at a neutral location, a quiet café downtown. Victor looked confused and concerned as I recounted what I had found, while Anne’s face cycled through shock, anger, and finally, defeat.
“Is this true?” Victor demanded, turning to his wife. “Have you been… what, practicing witchcraft against my sister?”
Anne’s shoulders slumped. “I… I was jealous,” she whispered. “Your sister got everything so easily… the perfect husband, the thriving business, the baby. I just wanted what she had.”
Victor recoiled in horror. “This is insane, Anne. You need help.”
“I’m so sorry,” Anne sobbed, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, shaking my head.
“Sorry isn’t enough. You tried to hurt my baby. I can never forgive that
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