{"id":9968,"date":"2025-08-31T13:10:14","date_gmt":"2025-08-31T13:10:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=9968"},"modified":"2025-08-31T13:10:14","modified_gmt":"2025-08-31T13:10:14","slug":"9968","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=9968","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"

A chill ran through me. Who did this? Why? What kind of grim theater was this?<\/p>\n

The first thing that came to mind was maybe some workers mixed up the lots. But I definitely hadn\u2019t hired anyone. I walked around the hole. A shovel lay nearby. Boot prints. Someone had dug hard, for a long time.<\/p>\n

I began to shake. My throat went dry. It was clear: this was no accident. It was someone\u2019s idea. An idea with a message.<\/p>\n

I ran into the house and immediately turned on the security footage.<\/p>\n

Rewinding through the past few days, I stopped when I saw this\u2026\u00a0Continued in the first comment\u00a0\ud83d\udc47\ud83d\udc47<\/strong><\/p>\n

Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared. Night. The second day of my vacation. In the shadow of a car\u2019s headlights came out\u2026 her. My ex-girlfriend.<\/p>\n

We had been together almost two years. At first, everything was great, but over time she became controlling, hot-tempered, insanely jealous. I endured for a long time, but one day I just left.<\/p>\n

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\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

No scandals, no hysterics \u2014 I packed my things and left. She wrote, called, cried. Then went silent. I thought it was over. Apparently, I was wrong.<\/p>\n

She wore a black hoodie with a hood and gloves. She carried a shovel. And started digging.<\/p>\n

Almost four hours straight. With breaks. Alone. In complete silence. Only the headlights and the sound of digging. Then she stood at the edge of the hole, took out a wooden cross, stuck it in the ground, looked straight at the camera and\u2026 smiled. Calmly, coldly.<\/p>\n

Something was written on the cross.<\/p>\n

I zoomed in. My hand was shaking.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere lies a traitor\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I ran to the sink and vomited. It wasn\u2019t just a gesture. It was a warning. Revenge. A sign that she wasn\u2019t done. That maybe she was still nearby. That she was watching.<\/p>\n

I immediately called the police. Explained, showed the footage. They took it very seriously. While waiting for the patrol, I couldn\u2019t shake the feeling that someone was watching me from behind the fence. Behind the trees. From the darkness.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The next morning she was arrested. She lived in a rented apartment in another district. During the interrogation she denied nothing. She only said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI just wanted him to know how much I loved him.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

She was sent for psychiatric evaluation. And I couldn\u2019t sleep at night for a long time. Every morning, leaving the house, I glanced at the lawn as if expecting to see a new hole there.<\/p>\n

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A chill ran through me. Who did this? Why? What kind of grim theater was this? The first thing that came to mind was maybe some workers mixed up the lots. But I definitely hadn\u2019t hired anyone. I walked around the hole. A shovel lay nearby. Boot prints. Someone had dug hard, for a long…<\/p>\n

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