Returned Home from Vacation to a Huge Hole in My Yard—Watching the Security Footage Left Me Frozen in Horror 😱😱
I had spent a week on the coast with a friend. Sun, sea, carefree evenings—it was perfect. We rode scooters, ate fresh seafood, chatted late into the night, and laughed over silly stories from the past. I even started feeling renewed, as if life was finally moving in the right direction—especially after a rough breakup.
When I got home, nothing seemed amiss at first. My car was in place, the gate untouched. I was about to rejoice at being back when suddenly… I froze.
Right in the middle of my neatly trimmed lawn was a huge hole. Deep, perfectly rectangular. The kind you dig… well, at a cemetery.
A chill ran through me. Who did this? Why? What kind of dark theater was this?
At first, I thought maybe some workers had mixed up plots—but I hadn’t hired anyone. I walked around the hole. A shovel lay nearby. Footprints. Someone had dug here with effort, for a long time.
My hands started shaking. My throat went dry. It was clear: this wasn’t an accident. This was someone’s idea. A deliberate one.
I rushed inside and immediately checked the security footage.
Rewinding the last few days, I stopped the tape when I saw it…
A familiar figure appeared. Nighttime. The second day of my vacation. In the shadow of the car headlights emerged… her. My ex-girlfriend.
We had been together for nearly two years. At first, everything was great, but over time she became controlling, hot-tempered, insanely jealous. I endured it for a while, then finally left. No drama, no shouting—just packed my things and left. She called, texted, cried… then went silent. I thought it was over. Apparently, I was wrong.
She wore a black hoodie with the hood up, gloves, and carried a shovel. And she started digging.
For almost four hours straight. Alone. In complete silence. Only the headlights and the sound of digging. Then she stood at the edge of the hole, planted a wooden cross, stared straight into the camera, and… smiled. Calmly. Coldly.
Something was written on the cross.
I zoomed in. My hand shook.
“Here lies a traitor”
I was sick to my stomach. This was no ordinary gesture. It was a warning. Revenge. A signal that she wasn’t done. That maybe she was still nearby. Watching.
I immediately called the police. Showed them the footage. They took it extremely seriously. While waiting for the patrol, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me from behind the fence. From the trees. From the darkness.
The next morning, she was arrested. She lived in a rented apartment in another area. During questioning, she admitted everything. She only said:
“I just wanted him to know how much I loved him.”
She was sent for psychiatric evaluation. And for a long time afterward, I couldn’t sleep at night. Every morning, as I stepped outside, I’d glance at the lawn, half-expecting to see a new hole.
