I secretly went to our country house to find out what my husband had been hiding from me for several months. But when I opened the door of the old shed, I saw something that made me want to run away immediately 😱😨
My husband and I had been married for almost fifteen years. We owned a small house in a village where we used to spend practically every weekend. My husband loved working in the garden, while I took care of the flowers and vegetable patch.
But about four months ago, everything changed.
My husband suddenly stopped taking me with him. At first, he said he was too busy. Then he started complaining about being tired, even though he sometimes disappeared for hours and didn’t come home until late in the evening.
One day, a neighbor from the village called me.
“Listen, has your husband decided to sell the house?” she suddenly asked.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Well, he comes here almost every day now. I’ve seen him doing something in the shed several times. And yesterday, he even showed up in the middle of the night.”
I felt my blood run cold.
That evening, I carefully asked my husband when we would visit the village again.
“We don’t need to go there for now,” he replied without even looking up from his phone.
“Why not? I want to see how my flowers are doing.”
“I told you we’re not going!” he suddenly raised his voice.
In all fifteen years of our marriage, my husband had hardly ever shouted at me, so his reaction made me extremely suspicious.
The next day, I decided to check on him.
That morning, my husband said he urgently needed to go to work, even though it was Saturday. I waited until he left, got into my car, and followed him.
Just as I suspected, he drove straight to the village.
I parked a little farther away from our property and began watching. My husband got out of his car, took a large black bag from the trunk, and hurried toward the old shed.
A few minutes later, he came back out, locked the door, and drove away.
I waited a little longer, then approached our fence. The small wooden gate was locked, but I still had my key.
I opened it and stepped into the yard. What interested me most was the shed.
We used to store old furniture, gardening tools, and the lawn mower there. I slowly opened the shed doors and stepped inside. When I saw what was inside, I was completely horrified. I had hoped my husband was hiding a mistress from me, but I never expected anything like this from him 😳😱 The continuation of the story can be found in the first comment 👇👇
When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed several large metal cabinets along the walls. Plastic containers stood beside them, and a long table occupied the center of the room.
On it lay women’s handbags, jewelry, photographs, and neatly folded clothes.
At first, I thought my husband was involved in some kind of illegal business, but then I noticed dozens of photographs of women hanging on the wall.
Dates were written beneath each photograph.
Some of the photographs had red crosses marked on them.
I stepped closer and recognized a woman who had disappeared from our city about six months earlier. I remembered her face perfectly because missing-person posters featuring her photograph had been everywhere at the time.
Next to her was a photograph of another missing woman.
I began trembling.
A thick notebook lay on the table. When I opened it, I found my husband’s notes.
“The second attempt failed.” “Too many questions.” “Need to be more careful with the next one.”
I turned a few pages and suddenly came across a photograph of myself.
It had been taken very recently, while I was sleeping in our bedroom.
Underneath it, my husband had written:
“The last one. After her, everything will be over.”
At that moment, the door creaked behind me.
“I knew you’d come here someday,” I heard my husband’s voice.
He stood in the doorway, looking at me calmly.
“What did you do to these women?” I whispered.
My husband didn’t answer. He walked over to one of the metal cabinets, opened it, and took out a small box.
“You always said I had an exceptionally good memory for faces,” he said. “But the truth is, I simply can’t forget people who get in my way.”
I slowly backed toward the window.
“Did you kill them?”
“Not all of them,” my husband replied with complete calmness.
Then he took his phone out of his pocket and showed me a video recording.
On the screen, I saw our bedroom. I was asleep, while my husband stood beside the bed, talking to someone on a video call.
But that wasn’t the most terrifying part.
In the video, I heard my own voice.
“When are you finally going to get rid of the others?” I asked.
I stared at the screen, unable to understand what was happening.
“This is fake! I never said anything like that!”
My husband suddenly smiled.
“Of course you didn’t. I spent three years collecting recordings of your voice so a computer could speak for you.”
“Why?!”
He placed his phone on the table.
“Because the police have already received all these recordings. Along with photographs, messages, and documents proving that you were the one who lured these women here.”
I felt my legs beginning to give way.
“But you’re the one who did all of this!”
“Yes,” he calmly agreed. “But who’s going to believe you?”
In the distance, police sirens began to wail.
My husband glanced at his watch.
“I called them myself twenty minutes ago. I told them I’d discovered evidence of my own wife’s crimes and that I was afraid to go home.”
He headed toward the exit but suddenly stopped.
“By the way, you’re wrong if you think those women ended up here by accident. Every single one of them used to be my wife.”
I froze in horror.
“But you told me you’d never been married before me!”
“And you never asked why all my former wives had the same name.”
At that moment, I remembered how my husband sometimes called me by another woman’s name, then laughed and said it was just a slip of the tongue.
He stepped outside and locked the door from the other side.
A minute later, I heard the police officers’ voices, followed by my husband’s shout:
“Be careful! She’s inside! She might have the tools she used to kill those people!”
I rushed toward the window, but suddenly noticed another photograph lying on the table.
It showed my husband standing beside a young woman in a wedding dress.
The photograph had been taken just two weeks earlier.
On the back was the date of their wedding and a short message:
“The new wife is already ready. We can get rid of the old one.”