I Found 3 Trash Bags in My Brother and SIL’s Basement – What Was Inside Shocked Me…

Seven months pregnant, I had agreed to house-sit for my brother and his wife while they vacationed. One afternoon, I stumbled upon three mysterious trash bags in their basement. What I found inside made me flee for my life, and the terror still haunts me.

“Run, faster, Celina!” The voice in my head screamed as I stumbled through the thick woods behind my brother’s mansion. Gasping for breath, I clutched my swollen belly with one hand and pushed away the branches scratching at my face with the other. Seven months pregnant and terrified, I was running for my life.

Somehow, I had to make it to the bus stop beyond 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, baby. Someone will help us get home.”

It had all started two weeks earlier…

I was curled up on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when a call from my brother, Victor, interrupted my peaceful afternoon.

“Hey, Celina! How’s my favorite sister?” he greeted with his usual booming voice. “I’ve got a huge favor to ask. Anne and I are heading out of town for a friend’s wedding, followed by a little vacation. Could you or Paul house-sit for us?”

Before I could answer, Anne’s voice chimed in, almost too sweet. “Oh, Celina, you’ll love staying here! Don’t worry about a thing. The house practically takes care of itself.”

Her words caught me off guard. My relationship with Anne had been tense for months. She had become distant ever since Paul’s business had taken off and our financial situation improved while Victor faced several failed ventures. The strain had only worsened when I announced my pregnancy. Unlike the rest of the family, who were thrilled, Anne had barely acknowledged the news. She even skipped our gender reveal party, claiming she was “too busy.” It stung, especially knowing she and Victor had been trying to conceive for years without success. My easy pregnancy seemed to be a sore reminder of what she couldn’t have.

But now, she was asking me to house-sit? Was this her way of extending an olive branch?

Despite my reservations, I found myself wanting to believe this could be a turning point for us. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” I replied, hope creeping into my voice. “When do you need me?”

The next morning, I arrived at Victor and Anne’s mansion. Paul had dropped me off, and after a quick goodbye, I stood outside their sprawling home. Victor greeted me warmly, giving me a gentle hug. Anne, on the other hand, barely made eye contact as she air-kissed my cheek and thanked me with an overly saccharine tone.

Once they were gone, the house felt enormous and eerily quiet. I wandered from room to room, feeling strangely out of place. By the time night fell, the isolation began to creep in. The taxidermied animals on the walls seemed to watch me, adding to the unsettling atmosphere. Despite my unease, I brushed it off and convinced myself I was overthinking.

Three days passed without incident. On the fourth day, while checking the basement furnace, I noticed three large garbage bags tucked away in a corner. “Weird,” I muttered, snapping a photo and sending it to Anne with a joking message: “Forgot something? Don’t worry, I’ll take out the trash for you.😉”

Seconds later, my phone buzzed with an immediate reply from Anne: “DON’T TOUCH THEM! GET OUT OF THE BASEMENT. NOW.”

Before I could even process her message, she called.

“Anne? What’s going on?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion.

“Celina, listen to me,” she said, her tone frantic. “Get out of the basement now. Do not look in those bags!”

Her urgency sent a chill down my spine. “But why? What’s in them?”

“Just go upstairs, please. Forget you saw them.”

I hesitated, torn between fear and curiosity. But something inside me refused to walk away. Against my better judgment, I approached the nearest bag. My heart pounded as I untied the knot. The moment the contents spilled onto the floor, my world turned upside down.

Bones. Feathers. Decayed animal remains. But worst of all—dozens of crude voodoo dolls, each one bearing a photo of my face. They were stained with something dark and rotten, the smell of decay filling the air.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, stumbling back in horror.

Fumbling for my phone, I dialed Paul with shaking hands. “Paul,” I choked out when he answered. “You need to come get me. Now.”

“What happened?” he asked, his voice edged with panic.

Between gasps, I tried to explain. “Voodoo dolls… with my face… blood… I think Anne’s trying to curse me. Or worse, our baby.”

“Jesus, Celina,” Paul muttered. “Get out of the house. Run to the bus stop. I’m on my way.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing my purse, I bolted out of the front door, racing into the woods. My pregnant belly made it difficult to maneuver, but fear pushed me forward. Branches scratched at my skin, but I didn’t stop until I reached the road and collapsed onto the bus stop bench.

Minutes later, Paul’s car screeched to a stop in front of me. He jumped out, pulling me into his arms. “Are you okay? The baby?”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, still shaking. “But I don’t know how we didn’t see this coming.”

Back home, I told Paul everything—about the bags, the dolls, and Anne’s bizarre behavior. As we sat in disbelief, one thing was clear: this wasn’t just jealousy. It was something far more dangerous.

In the following days, Anne tried contacting me, but I refused to speak with her. When Victor and Anne returned, we agreed to meet in a neutral café. The confrontation was explosive. Victor, confused and horrified, demanded the truth from Anne.

“I was jealous,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “Celina got everything I wanted. I just… I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Victor recoiled in disbelief. “You tried to curse my sister? You need serious help, Anne.”

In the aftermath, our family fractured. Victor filed for divorce, and the once-close bond between siblings was irreparably broken. Though Paul and I moved forward, the haunting memory of what I found in that basement lingers. Even now, as I hold my newborn daughter, I can’t help but wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t discovered Anne’s twisted secret in time.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: never assume those closest to you have your best interests at heart.