My husband locked himself in the bathroom every evening for two hours. One night, I grabbed a flashlight to investigate—and behind the tiles, I discovered a hole. Inside the hole were strange packages… 😱😱
Lately, my husband had been acting increasingly strange. At first, I thought he might have a lover. He would disappear in the evenings, and at home, he would sit in silence for long stretches, as if lost in thought. But then I realized it wasn’t about another woman at all.
Every day, he would lock himself in the bathroom. He’d shut the door, turn on the water to muffle sounds, and could sit there for two hours straight. He never took his phone, so he wasn’t talking to anyone. I asked him several times:
— “What are you doing in there so long?”
And every time, the sharp answer was the same:
— “Nothing. It’s none of your business.”
Curiosity grew, along with unease. What was he hiding? Why was he acting so strangely?
One night, after he had fallen asleep, I decided to take a risk. I grabbed a flashlight so I wouldn’t turn on the lights and wake him, and quietly went into the bathroom. Everything looked normal. Clean tiles, white bathtub, familiar smell of soap.
But as I was about to return to bed, something caught my attention.
Behind the toilet, the wall had scratches and cracks—but we had just renovated the bathroom, so where did they come from?
I touched the tiles. One wobbled. With a single push, a piece of tile fell to the floor, revealing a dark hole in the wall. I froze, heart racing. Something was hidden inside. I reached in and pulled out a plastic bag. Then another.
My hands were shaking. I tore open the wrapping—and almost fainted from horror 😲😱. Inside the bags were…
Women’s jewelry: rings, bracelets, necklaces… all stained with brownish-red spots. Dried blood. One ring even had a strand of someone else’s hair stuck to it.
I felt nauseous. Later, I learned that my husband had been taking these items from crime scenes. I don’t know how many women had been his victims, but each piece of jewelry was a trophy, a reminder of his monstrous deeds.
I quickly, almost in panic, put everything back in the bags, hid them in the hole, and replaced the tile.
That night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I lay next to him, listening to his steady breathing, while the images of the blood-stained rings and necklaces haunted me. I realized that the man sleeping next to me was a monster.
The next morning, I didn’t say a word. I packed my things, slammed the door, and went straight to the police. I never saw him again, but I believe he was eventually caught.
