I ran back to the sitting room, I checked all the rooms, even the visitors room but she still wasn’t there. All these while, Rufus was just laughing at me, sarcastically like I was going insane. Just then, something told me to check the kitchen.
When Rufus saw me heading to the kitchen, the laughter on his face vanished. “Rebecca, where do you think you are going?” He came after me. His face screamed panic, and I saw his legs already shaking.
But I didn’t care. When I reached the kitchen, just at the door, my heart almost exploded. I froze at the spot.
I couldn’t believe what I just saw. To be continued.. THE WOMAN THAT DRINKS MY HUSBAND’S URINE—EPISODE 2
“Mummy, why does Daddy always bring out one woman to drink his urine from a small red cup every time you leave for work?”
Those were the exact words my 12 year old son said to me that morning.
And as I sneaked on my husband, I saw him giving a woman his urine to drink from a small red cup. Exactly what my son had said. I ran towards the kitchen to check for the woman and immediately my husband began to panic, his legs vibrating.
Suddenly, he began running after me, ordering me to not enter the kitchen. And as soon as I got to the door, my heart almost exploded. I froze at the spot.
I couldn’t believe what I just saw. Right on the kitchen deck was a red cup, half filled with nothing else but urine. My husband’s expression changed as soon as he realized I had seen the cup.
“Rufus, where did this red cup come from? And why is there urine inside it?”
He was speechless, he couldn’t say anything. “I don’t understand you anymore.
What is going on?” I asked. But he kept staring at me, still quiet. “I saw you Rufus, if you think I don’t know.
You brought another woman to this house, to our matrimonial bed and I saw you giving her this urine to drink.”
“Ohh, so you saw everything,” He finally spoke with a very sinister look in his eyes. His voice sent terror down my spine. Rufus no longer looked like the man I married.
“I tried to spare you, I tried to keep you out of this, but you think you are smart right?”
“Rufus, what are you talking about?” I quickly cut in. “You haven’t even answered my questions, what is going on?”
Suddenly his expression changed and he began rushing towards me. “Come here!” He thundered, grabbing me by my arm.
“You have seen what your eyes were never meant to see, so you must partake in it.”
Suddenly, Rufus dragged me by hand and took me to a room I had never seen before. All these years, I never knew that such a room existed in our house. He threw me inside and l0cked the door, my own husband.
I scréamed and screámed for help, but no one came to my rescue. Even my son had already gone to school. I was speechless, I was confused, I was broken.
What was really going on? Why was my husband doing this? Was that even my husband?
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted as the door pushed open. Standing right in front of the door was my husband, but this time a woman was standing beside him in a red gown. The same woman I caught drinking his urine on our matrimonial bed.
But as I looked closely, it was then I noticed the red cup in Rufus’s hands, filled with urine. Tears began to gather in my eyes, my thoughts began racing and I almost fainted as soon as Rufus opened his mouth to speak. “You will drink this urine, every single thing and no drop must fall to the ground.”
WILL THE WIFE LATER DRINK IT?
WHAT IS REALLY THE HUSBAND’S PLAN? AND HOW IS THAT STRANGE WOMAN RELATED TO THE HUSBAND? THE WOMAN THAT DRINKS MY HUSBAND’S URINE — PART 4
My hands were trembling so badly I could barely hold myself up.
Rufus stood in front of me, the red cup in his hand. The woman in the red gown stood beside him — silent, motionless, her long hair still hiding most of her face. “You will drink this urine,” Rufus repeated, his voice cold.
“Every single drop.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Rufus… please,” I whispered. “You’re scaring me.
What is this? Why are you doing this?”
His jaw tightened. “You should have minded your business.”
He stepped closer and grabbed my chin, forcing my head upward.
The smell from the cup made my stomach churn. “Drink it,” he commanded again. Suddenly—
A loud bang echoed from the front of the house.
Rufus froze. Another bang. Then a voice.
“Police! Open the door!”
Rufus’s face drained of color. For the first time since this nightmare began… I saw fear in his eyes.
The woman in red slowly lifted her head. And when her hair shifted slightly, I gasped. It wasn’t just long hair.
It was a wig. Her face underneath was older than I expected. Pale.
Hollow. Her eyes looked… empty. The police banged again.
“Open this door immediately!”
Rufus dropped the red cup. It spilled onto the floor. The woman in red began laughing.
A low, disturbing laugh that didn’t sound human. “You promised me protection,” she whispered to Rufus. “You said no one would find out.”
“Shut up!” Rufus snapped.
That was when I realized something. This wasn’t about infidelity. This wasn’t some twisted affair.
This was something else. Something darker. The door to the hidden room burst open as officers forced their way inside.
They grabbed Rufus before he could react. “What is going on here?” one officer shouted. I couldn’t speak.
I just pointed at the woman in red. But she was no longer standing there. She was sitting calmly on the small mattress in the corner of the hidden room.
As if she had always been there. One of the officers turned to me gently. “Ma’am, we received an anonymous tip about suspicious activities in this house.”
Anonymous tip.
My heart skipped. Junior. It had to be Junior.
The officer walked further into the hidden room and then stopped abruptly. “Sir… you need to see this.”
Behind a loose panel in the wall were dozens of small red cups. All identical.
Some stained. Some still damp. My knees buckled.
The officer’s face hardened. “Rufus, you are under arrest.”
“For what?!” Rufus yelled. “For unlawful confinement… assault… and suspected involvement in ritualistic practices.”
Ritualistic practices.
The words echoed in my ears. The woman in red finally spoke clearly for the first time. “You promised me strength,” she said softly to Rufus.
“You promised I would never age.”
The officers looked at each other. One of them removed her wig completely. Underneath, her scalp was patchy.
Her skin sagged unnaturally. She did not look well. She did not look sane.
As Rufus was dragged out in handcuffs, he turned to me with a look I will never forget. “I was doing this for us,” he said. “For our prosperity.
For protection.”
I felt nothing. No love. No pity.
Only disgust. The officers escorted the woman out as well. As soon as they left, the hidden room felt colder.
Smaller. Evil does not always enter loudly. Sometimes it grows quietly in the shadows of your own home.
Two days later, the truth came out. Rufus had been visiting a self-proclaimed spiritual healer months ago after his business started failing. The woman in red was that “healer.”
She convinced him that certain rituals would bring wealth, protection, and dominance.
But rituals always demand something. And this one demanded humiliation and secrecy. The urine was symbolic — a twisted belief in power and control.
My husband believed it. He risked his marriage. He risked his sanity.
He risked everything. Junior was the one who saved me. He told his teacher what he had been seeing.
The school contacted authorities. That anonymous tip saved my life. Because I later found out…
The ritual was escalating.
And I was going to be the final participant. Three months later, I filed for divorce. Rufus is still in custody pending investigation.
The woman in red has been admitted to a psychiatric facility. As for me? I sleep with my bedroom door locked.
I check every cabinet. Every shadow. But I am free.
And sometimes freedom doesn’t come from love. It comes from surviving what was never meant to touch you. If there’s one thing I learned…
When a child says something strange —
Listen.
Because sometimes the smallest voice
is the one that saves your life. THE WOMAN THAT DRINKS MY HUSBAND’S URINE — FINAL PART
The house was never the same again. Even after the police sealed the hidden room…
even after they took away the red cups…
even after Rufus was gone—
The walls still felt like they were watching me.
For weeks, I couldn’t sleep without the lights on. Junior started having nightmares. He would wake up crying, saying he could still see “the red woman” standing beside Daddy’s bed.
I held him tighter each night. “It’s over,” I would whisper. But deep down, I wasn’t sure if it truly was.
The investigation uncovered more than I ever imagined. Rufus had been sending large amounts of money to the so-called healer for over a year. Bank transfers.
Secret meetings. Late-night calls. His business had started failing, and instead of telling me… instead of trusting me…
He chose fear.
He chose superstition. He chose darkness. The police found journals in the hidden room.
Pages filled with instructions. Ritual steps. “Purification acts.” Promises of wealth and protection.
The urine was symbolic, they said. A sign of submission. Control.
A twisted belief that humiliating acts created spiritual dominance. I still feel sick when I think about it. When I finally saw Rufus in detention, I expected anger.
Instead, he looked smaller. Broken. “I was desperate,” he said quietly through the glass.
“Everything was collapsing. I didn’t want you to see me as a failure.”
“So you chose to become a monster instead?” I replied. He had no answer.
That was the moment I understood something painful:
Sometimes evil doesn’t start as evil. It starts as fear left untreated. But fear is not an excuse.
And love is not blindness. I filed for divorce that same week. Six months later, the house was sold.
I moved to a smaller apartment with Junior. No hidden rooms. No strange cabinets.
No red cups. Just peace. Junior slowly returned to himself.
He laughs more now. He plays football downstairs. He talks about becoming a lawyer “so bad men go to jail faster.”
Sometimes he asks about his father.
I tell him the truth — age-appropriate, but honest. “Daddy made very wrong choices.”
Not demons. Not magic.
Choices. Because that’s what it really was. The woman in red remains under psychiatric care.
Doctors confirmed she had manipulated multiple men using fear and ritual promises. Rufus was not her first. But he will be her last.
One evening, as I was unpacking the final box in our new apartment, Junior walked into the kitchen. “Mummy?”
“Yes, baby?”
He hesitated. “There’s no more red cups here, right?”
I smiled softly and opened the cabinet wide.
White plates. Blue mugs. Clear glasses.
“No red cups,” I said. He nodded, satisfied. And in that quiet moment, I realized something powerful:
The scariest part of this story wasn’t the ritual.
It wasn’t the hidden room. It wasn’t even the woman in red. It was silence.
If Junior had kept quiet…
If I had ignored him…
If fear had won—
I might not be here today. So if there’s anything this story leaves behind, let it be this:
Listen to your children. Trust your instincts.
And never ignore the small red flags in your home. Because sometimes, what looks unbelievable…
is the very thing that saves you. THE END.
