MY WIFE AND HER SPIRITUAL HUSBAND
The night before our wedding, I woke up to the sound of some one moaning.
At first, I thought I was dreaming. But when I turned to the side, my fiancée wasn’t in bed beside me.
The sound was coming from the toilet.
Curious — and a bit uneasy — I got up and walked toward the bathroom. The door was slightly open, and through the opening, I saw her sitting on the toilet seat, her legs wide apart, her head tilted back, a faint smile on her face.
She was moaning. Slowly. Repeatedly. Like someone was touching her.
But there was no one else there.
No toys. No phone. Just her.
As I stepped closer, the moment she noticed me, she suddenly composed herself — like nothing had happened. She didn’t say a word. Not even a glance. Just flushed and walked past me back to bed.
I stood there, confused, trying to process what I had just witnessed.
It disturbed me deeply — especially because she was the one who insisted we remain celibate until marriage.
We had respected that. Bathed together. Slept in the same bed. But she never once acted like she wanted intimacy.
Now, on the night before we were to become husband and wife, I was seeing a side of her I couldn’t understand.
THE WEDDING MORNING
Early the next morning — our wedding day — she entered our shared room and said something that caught me off guard.
“I’ll like to have my own private room after the wedding,” she said flatly, almost like a command.
I was stunned.
“We’re getting married today. Why would we stay in separate rooms?” I asked.
She frowned, and in a flash, her mood darkened. “If you can’t respect that, then maybe this marriage shouldn’t happen.”
I pleaded with her not to ruin our day over something so strange. She eventually agreed — or at least pretended to — and we went ahead with the ceremony.
—
THE WEDDING NIGHT
Later that night, I dressed up and quietly approached her room, eager to finally be with my wife.
But her door was locked.
I knocked gently.
No response.
I knocked again. Still silence.
I stood there for minutes, unsure if she was sleeping or ignoring me. Eventually, I gave up and returned to my room, convincing myself she was just exhausted.
—
THE NEXT MORNING
When she stepped out of her room the next morning, I froze.
She had bruises all over her face and arms.
“Babe, what happened to you?” I asked.
She smiled casually. “Oh, I fell while trying to take off my shoes last night.”
I didn’t want to accuse her of lying, but something felt off.
Later, as she turned to get something from her bag, her blouse shifted — and that’s when I saw it.
A mark on her back.
Long. Deep. Red.
Like a whip had struck her.
“Are you sure it was just a fall?” I asked again, my voice now filled with worry.
She glanced at me and laughed. “Yes, you worry too much.”
—
That evening, I called her to my room. I wanted us to finally share the moment we’d been waiting for. To consummate the marriage.
But from the moment I tried to kiss her, she kept shifting her head away. Dodging my lips. Avoiding my touch.
“You know we’re married now, right?” I asked, staring into her unreadable eyes.
She sighed. “I’m not in the mood. Can we do it another time?”
Then, without another word, she walked out.
And just like that… I was left with more questions than ever.
MY WIFE AND HER SPIRITUAL HUSBAND EPISODE 2
It was a morning, as I tried to surprise my wife, I overheard her crying and moaning at the same time which was different from the first time.
I froze at the door, the tray trembling slightly in my hands.
It wasn’t the kind of moaning that came from watching a movie. It sounded real. Raw. Like someone was in pain—or… pleasure.
I knocked gently.
No response.
I knocked again—still nothing.
Worried, I walked away. But something didn’t sit right with me.
So, I returned a while later. This time, I found the door open.
She was lying on the floor.
Weak. Still.
Her eyes were open, but it was like she wasn’t really there.
I knelt beside her, calling her name, gently shaking her.
“Babe? What happened?”
She didn’t respond at first. Her gaze was fixed behind me—like she was looking at someone standing just over my shoulder.
Her eyes held terror.
“Talk to me,” I begged. “Are you okay?”
Finally, she whispered, “I wasn’t crying. It was the movie on my phone.”
A lie. I could see it all over her face.
But I didn’t push. The truth I was beginning to imagine was too deep… too disturbing.
—
Later that afternoon, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water.
As I drank, I caught a glimpse of something strange in the mirror near the dining area—
A pale figure walked past behind me.
I turned around instantly.
No one.
I turned back to the mirror. Nothing. Just my reflection.
I shook my head and tried to convince myself it was my imagination.
Moments later, my wife walked up behind me, smiling brightly.
“Baby, I want us to sleep together tonight,” she said, her voice unusually warm.
My heart lit up.
Since we got married, we hadn’t had s3x. We hadn’t even shared a bed.
This was the first time she seemed open—willing.
I pulled her in for a hug and leaned in to kiss her, but she flinched.
She pulled away so quickly—like she thought I was about to hurt her.
There was fear in her eyes.
Real fear.
We stood there in awkward silence for a moment until she forced a smile and said,
“Relax, babe. Tonight will be ours… just us.”
A chill ran through my spine.
But I smiled weakly, and we went to sit in the parlour.
—
That night, something strange happened.
As we prepared for bed, I watched her place candles, red ones in a circle around the bed.
She was mumbling something under her breath—words I couldn’t understand.
I stepped forward to ask what she was doing, but she pushed me out of the room.
“Babe, relax! You’re always in a hurry. Let me set the mood—I’ve got this,” she said playfully.
But there was something in her tone that didn’t feel right.
A part of me screamed that this was a ritual—
But I silenced that voice, telling myself she was just trying to make our first night together special.
—
Finally, it was time.
She invited me back in.
As I climbed onto the bed, ready to make love to my wife for the first time since our wedding…
Something happened.
MY WIFE AND HER SPIRITUAL HUSBAND EPISODE 3
As I climbed onto the bed, ready to make love to my wife for the first time since our wedding…
Something happened.
*********
A cold breeze swept through the room—chilling, unnatural.
Suddenly, I lost every bit of desire.
Just like that, my body shut down.
We tried everything—touch, whispers, even teasing—but nothing worked.
My manhood refused to rise.
It had never happened before.
And that was how our long-awaited first night… ended in silence and shame.
—
The next morning, I expected her to come lie beside me again.
But she didn’t.
She avoided the room like a plague.
Weeks turned into months.
And ever since that night, something has been wrong with me.
I couldn’t perform. At all.
Even when I tried watching adult movies—nothing.
No reaction.
No feeling.
It was like… my body had died from the waist down.
What made it worse was my wife.
Unlike before, she began begging—pressuring me to sleep with her.
But I couldn’t.
I went for medical tests. Everything came back normal.
I knew something wasn’t right.
—
One night, we tried again.
I kissed her gently… and she pushed me off immediately.
She wanted intimacy—but refused my kiss?
It didn’t make sense.
I let it go, but the next morning, I woke up in pain.
Serious pain.
My entire body felt like I had fought a war.
I couldn’t even stand straight, let alone go to work.
On my way to the bathroom to take my bath I froze at the site of the mirror.
There was a strange mark on my chest.
A tattoo-like writeup, written in what looked like ancient handwriting.
It wasn’t English.
It wasn’t any language I knew.
Just staring at it made me feel weak.
I ran to my wife and asked if she was the one who drew it.
At first, she denied it.
Then, her body shook violently—and she admitted it.
“I’m sorry… I did it while you were asleep,” she said.
But that didn’t sit right with me.
I’m not a deep sleeper.
How could she write something on my chest—something permanent—and I wouldn’t feel a thing?
I rushed back to the bathroom to wash it off.
It didn’t come off.
Soap. Scrubbing. Nothing worked.
That was when I knew—this wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t just my wife anymore.
Something else was involved.
—
Days later, I came home exhausted.
She smiled and handed me a cup of juice.
I drank it, thinking nothing of it…
But moments later, my vision blurred.
My body went numb.
And right there, in front of her…
I collapsed. But before I collapsed, I saw something or someone, it was a shadow like a man.
MY WIFE AND HER SPIRITUAL HUSBAND EPISODE 4
I collapsed. But before I collapsed, I saw something or someone, it was a shadow like a man.
*********
When I woke up, I found myself lying on the bed.
My eyes were still blurry, but I could see my wife standing nearby—talking.
Her lips were moving, but… there was no one else in the room.
As my vision sharpened, I asked weakly,
“Babe… were you just talking to someone right now?”
She turned sharply—shock all over her face.
Then she forced a smile.
“No. I was praying.”
Praying?
I knew what I saw. But I didn’t want to push too hard—not yet.
So, I stood up slowly and walked to the bathroom.
When I looked in the mirror, I froze.
The tattoo that once marked my chest was gone. Completely.
No ink. No scar. No sign it was ever there.
It was as if it had never existed.
But I knew what I had seen just days ago…
This wasn’t normal.
I turned to go confront my wife, but suddenly, I felt an intense urge to pee.
I rushed to the toilet and relieved myself.
But then I looked down…
And my heart stopped.
The urine was thick.
Dark red.
Like blood.
As I flushed the toilet, my whole body weakened—and I fell to the floor.
My body went numb again.
Just before I blacked out, I heard my wife screaming from the bedroom:
“Babe—please don’t pee yet!”
But it was too late.
—
The next time I woke up, I was surrounded by the warm scent of candles.
I sat up slowly.
Red candles—placed in a triangle around the bed—burned quietly, casting eerie shadows.
I called out to my wife.
No response.
I stood up and went searching for her.
For the first time since we got married, I noticed her personal room was unlocked—and slightly ajar.
Curious, I tiptoed closer… and peeked inside.
She was standing in front of a tall mirror, her blouse lifted to expose her stomach.
And she was smiling—gently caressing her belly like a pregnant woman.
Then she whispered to the mirror, “We’re going to be a family now… my love.”
My blood ran cold.
A family? Pregnant?
That was impossible.
We had never made love—not once.
So… who got her pregnant?
Or worse—what?
“And if it wasn’t me she was talking to… who — or what — was it?”
MY WIFE AND HER SPIRITUAL HUSBAND EPISODE 5
So… who got her pregnant?
Or worse—what?
“And if it wasn’t me she was talking to… who — or what — was it?”
*******
I hurried back into the room and grabbed my camera.
I needed proof—anything to make sense of what I had just witnessed.
I started recording…
That was when I saw it.
A tall, terrifying figure stood behind my wife—a man with horns, hugging her from behind and caressing her belly.
But here’s the thing…
In real life—with my naked eyes—I saw only her and the mirror.
But through the camera lens, he was there. Clearly. As real as the walls around us.
My heart stopped.
I began stepping back carefully, trying not to make a sound—but my leg hit something on the floor, and a loud crash followed.
Almost immediately, a cold breeze swept through the room—sharp and unnatural.
Then she came out.
> “Ash babe, what is it?” she asked, seeing me on the floor.
“I… I was looking for you and I stumbled on this,” I stammered, pointing at the object I had knocked over.
> “Are you sure that’s all?” she asked, staring directly into my soul.
I nodded slowly.
She helped me up and led me to the parlour. She prepared food and fed me herself.
But not long after eating, something strange began to happen.
I felt… aroused.
Overwhelmingly so.
And just as if it had all been planned, she pulled me close and whispered,
> “Come to bed.”
That was the night I made love to my wife for the first time.
Or so I thought.
Because as I climaxed, I saw it again—that same horned figure.
Only this time… he was inside her.
With me.
At the same time.
The moment it ended, I could see things.
Figures.
Shadows.
Forms in corners where nothing should be.
They followed me—from the house, to the office… even into my dreams.
I tried to tell my wife, but she brushed it off.
> “It’s just the excitement,” she said with a soft smile.
“Your mind is playing tricks on you.”
But it didn’t stop.
One day, while driving alone to an event, I was on a bridge when I heard a loud horn from behind.
I glanced at the rearview mirror—
And froze.
A man—that same man with horns, was sitting in the back seat, his face twisted in rage.
Panicked, I looked back.
Nothing.
Just empty seats.
I turned to the mirror again.
He was still there—closer—stretching his hand toward me.
I screamed, lost control of the car, and steered off the bridge into the river below.
The impact came…
And then I woke up.
Gasping. Sweating. Shaking.
> “It was all… a dream?” I muttered to myself, confused but relieved.
But before I could even catch my breath…
I heard my fiancée moaning—from the bathroom.
Not in pain… but in pleasure.
Alone.
My blood ran cold.
Was it just a dream?
Or was it a warning?
Now I’m stuck in confusion:
> Should I still go ahead with the wedding…
Or was that dream the truth I was too blind to see?
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THE END 
