Seven months pregnant, I agreed to house-sit for my brother and sister-in-law while they went on vacation. Everything seemed normal until one afternoon, when I discovered three mysterious garbage bags in the basement. What I found inside changed everything and haunts me to this day.

“Run, faster, Celina!” a voice screamed in my head as I stumbled through the woods behind my brother’s mansion. I gasped for air, one hand clutching my swollen belly, the other pushing away branches that scraped my face. The bus stop was just beyond the trees, but how had I not seen this coming? How could I have been so trusting?

I glanced down at my hands, sticky with drying blood. Wiping them on my dress, I whispered, “We’re safe, my baby. Someone will get us home.”

It all started two weeks earlier. I was scrolling through my phone when I got a call from my brother, Victor.

“Hey, big bro! What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension between us lately.

“Celina! How’s my favorite sister?” Victor’s voice boomed through the phone. “I’ve got a favor to ask. Anne and I are heading out of town for a week. Any chance you could house-sit?”

Before I could answer, I heard my sister-in-law, Anne, jump on the call. “Oh, Celina, you’ll love it! The house practically runs itself.”

I hesitated. Anne and I hadn’t been on great terms lately. Ever since my husband Paul’s business took off and our financial situation improved, things had felt strained. Victor had faced several failed ventures, and I could tell the stress was getting to both of them.

Things got worse when I announced my pregnancy. The rest of the family was overjoyed, but Anne barely acknowledged it. She didn’t even come to our gender reveal party, claiming she was “too busy.” I knew it was a lie. Anne and Victor had been trying for years to conceive, and my pregnancy seemed to sting.

Still, I wanted to believe this house-sitting request was a chance to mend our relationship. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” I said, hope creeping into my voice.

That morning, I arrived at their mansion, waving goodbye to Paul as he drove away. Victor gave me a warm hug, while Anne’s smile felt forced as she air-kissed my cheek. “Everything you need is inside,” she said before they left for the airport.

The first few days passed without incident. I spent my time lounging, watching TV, and calling Paul. But by the fourth day, I felt the urge to be productive. I cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the basement to check on the furnace.

That’s when I saw the three garbage bags, tucked away in a corner. “Weird,” I muttered, thinking they were just old trash. I snapped a picture and sent it to Anne with a playful message: “Forgot something? 😉”

Moments later, my phone exploded with notifications. Anne’s text came through: “DON’T TOUCH THEM! GET OUT NOW.”

Confused, I called her. “What’s going on, Anne?”

“Celina, listen to me,” she hissed. “Get out of the basement. Don’t touch those bags. Just go upstairs.”

But curiosity got the best of me. I approached one of the bags and untied it. What I saw spilled out and left me frozen in terror—ritualistic tools, decayed bones, feathers, and crude voodoo dolls. And each doll had my face on it, stained with what looked like dried blood.

I fumbled for my phone, dialing Paul with shaking hands. “Paul, you need to come get me now,” I gasped.

“Get out of the house,” Paul said urgently. “Go to the bus stop. I’ll be there soon.”

I ran, not stopping until I reached the bus stop on the main road. Minutes later, Paul’s car screeched to a halt. “Are you okay?” he asked, helping me into the car. “What happened?”

Between sobs, I told him everything. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “We shouldn’t have trusted them,” he muttered. “Especially not Anne.”

When Victor and Anne returned, we met at a café to confront them. Victor was horrified as I explained what I found. Anne eventually broke down, confessing her jealousy over my pregnancy and how she had tried to “curse” me out of envy.

Victor filed for divorce, and our family has never been the same. I’m still processing the betrayal. But through it all, Paul and I are stronger than ever, and our baby is healthy. We’ve moved past the nightmare, but I’ll never forget what I discovered in that basement.