The Unmaking of Sharon: Part 1 – The Grave Dug By Trust

The Ultimate Betrayal

The initial wound was self-inflicted, born of ten long, barren years of marriage and a desperate, flawed solution. “I drûgged and førced my husband to slêêp with our housemaid so that we could have a child…” Sharon had sought a life-giver, but she had birthed a monster of infidelity. The result was instantaneous, irreversible, and cruel: “…when he awoke the next morning, he told me that he was mâdly in love with her and Wântéd to marry her and replace me without hesitation.”

Daniel, her husband, had fallen for Alice, the housemaid, with an unnerving speed and finality. Sharon’s desperate gamble had backfired, leaving her marriage in ashes and her rival in her bed. She was relegated to the role of a desperate bystander in her own life.

A few weeks later, the final, devastating news reached Sharon, cutting deeper than any previous pain. Her husband and Alice were secretly planning to travel abroad — without her. This wasn’t just a breakup; it was an erasure. Daniel intended to liquidate their shared life and vanish with his new love, leaving Sharon with nothing but a decade of memories and the sting of betrayal.

This time, the emotional pâin was too much. Something fundamental snapped inside her chest. The grief, humiliation, and terror of being utterly abandoned boiled into a lethal, desperate rage.

She cried until it felt like her heart would melt, whispering promises of vengeance into the empty air. “No… no, I can’t bear this anymore,” Sharon vowed. “I must kîll him. I’ve tolerated enough. I will end his life… and Alice’s life will become mîserable.” The fire of absolute malice was ignited in her eyes.

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The Return to the Snake

In her profound misery, Sharon sought refuge in the one person she believed she could trust completely, despite their recent falling out. “Let me go to Tina’s house and apologize,” she said, driving her expensive car toward her best friend’s house.

But Tina’s welcome was cold and calculating. “Hey! Sharon, stand outside. What are you doing at my house?” Tina yelled from the doorway. “Have I not wârned you never to step foot here again?”

“Tina, please… I’m very sorry,” Sharon pleaded, her eyes filled with tears, leveraging her last shreds of pride to beg for forgiveness. “Forgive me, please.”

Tina’s face relaxed instantly, but the smile she offered was sharp, brittle—a fake smile. “It’s okay. I knew you would return to me. Come inside.”

The stage was set. As they walked into the house, Tina played the role of the sympathetic confidante, folding her arms and fixing Sharon with an expectant gaze. “So, what brought you here this early morning?”

Sharon poured out her renewed misery. “Tina, can you imagine? My husband paid Alice’s bride price… and they’re secretly planning to relocate abroad.”

Tina’s eyes widened, a performance of shock that masked deeper emotions. “I heard the news. So tell me… what are your plans now?”

Sharon’s voice broke with the weight of her pain and her wicked intent. “To kîll him… and to make Alice sûffer for the rest of her life. I’m tîred of enduring. I’m tîred of héartbreak.”

Tina’s response was not comfort, but affirmation—a wicked smile gracing her lips. “Now you’re talking like a wise person. When exactly do you want to kîll him?”

“Next week,” Sharon whispered, clinging to a false hope. “Maybe he will change before then.”

“Sharon!” Tina snapped, the mask slipping. “Whatever you want to do, do it fast. Delay is dängerous. Don’t forget—before next week, your husband might sell everything he owns and run away with Alice. And you’ll be left with nothing.”

“You’re right,” Sharon conceded, the féar of destitution overriding her hesitation. “I actually thought about that. So… what do we do now?”

Tina smiled darkly, a promise of shared wickedness in her eyes. “I’m cooking breakfast. Once I’m done, I’ll take you somewhere.”

The Prophecy of the Shrine

A few hours later, Tina drove Sharon deep into a small, quiet village, far from the familiar, safe chaos of the city. The path was lonely, dusty, and surrounded by tall trees, leading only to a place of ill-repute. At the end of the road stood a dängerous shrine. The air felt heavy, oppressive, and the place smelled distinctly of old blood and smoke.

They stepped inside, into the gloom and the stench of burnt offerings.

“Woman, what brings you to my shrine?” the native doctor asked in a deep, røugh voice.

Sharon, trembling, brought out two pictures: Daniel’s and Alice’s. “I want you to kîll this man… and make this girl’s life miserable forever,” she said with lips that shook with the momentousness of her decision.

The native doctor collected the pictures, dropped them inside a calabash, and began chanting strange, guttural words that echoed ominously through the dark shrine.

After a long moment, the chanting abruptly stopped. He took the pictures out and handed them back to a bewildered Sharon.

“Woman, take these pictures and leave my shrine,” he said quietly. “I cannot hârm these two souls.”

“Wise one, why?” Sharon asked, confused.

“These souls are innocent,” he replied. But then his eyes fixed on Sharon, penetrating her desperation. “Woman… I sense great dânger in your home. Be very careful who you share your prøblems with. Someone has already dug your grave. Someone has set traps for you everywhere. And that same person is pûshing you toward those traps. If you fall inside even one… your life will end.”

Sharon’s heart jumped, the sudden shift in focus terrifying her more than the inability to cast a spell. “Wise one, which person? Tell me!”

“The gods have not shown me the face,” he said with finality. “But be careful.”

“Wise one, what should I do now?” she asked, shaking, her carefully constructed plan ruined.

“Go back to your husband’s house. Be patient. Your problems come from impatience, intolerance, and too much talking. If you don’t control yourself, these things will push you into an early grave.”

“Wise one… I am scared. How do I escape these dângers?”

“Only patience, tolerance, and learning to keep your mouth shut will save you. Go home, woman.”

The Fatal Plan

Sharon left the shrine with a heavy heart, her mind full of féar and confûsion. She recounted the doctor’s warning to Tina as soon as they reached the car.

Tina hissed loudly, instantly dismissing the ancient wisdom. “Don’t mind that man! Most of them don’t know anything. I have another plan. But honestly… he may be right. I feel Alice is the one digging your grave. Maybe she wants to kîll Daniel and blame you.”

“I don’t think Alice can do that to Daniel…” Sharon said weakly, her resolve wavering.

“Sharon! Why do you think like a child?” Tina snapped. “If Alice can cast a spell on your husband and snatch him from you, she can do anything.”

“That’s true…” Sharon whispered, the toxic suggestion taking root. “So what should I do?”

“Kîll Daniel,” Tina said calmly, cold-bloodedly, “and accuse Alice of kîlling him. If you don’t act fast, Alice will kîll him first. And when she does, everyone will blame you. They’ll say you did it because of your fîght with Daniel. You might even end up ending your own life from shâme and sørrow. That’s what the native doctor was trying to tell you.”

The final, dark manipulation worked. Tina had successfully reinterpreted the warning of an unknown enemy into a justification for murder. “You’re right…” Sharon said, breathing fast. “You’re so wise. I will do exactly what you said.”

“The operation will happen tomorrow morning at 4 a.m. Don’t worry. Leave everything to me.”

“I trust you,” Sharon said, sealing her own fate with those two fateful words.

Tina spent the night planning, not a murder for Sharon, but a perfect execution of her own sinister agenda.

The Execution

The next morning, before the break of dawn, Tina woke Sharon. They both wore masks. Tina was armed with professionalism: she carried a gun, a small knife, and a 10-litre jerrycan of petrol with matches.

“Tina, what are you doing with petrol and matches?” Sharon asked nervously, instantly terrified by the implication of such tools.

“You’ll understand later. Keep driving,” Tina dismissed her, her control absolute.

When they arrived at the house, Sharon, guided by Tina, called her gatekeeper and lîed to get him to open the gate. The moment he did, Tina rûshed and stâbbed him in the stomach. He fell instantly, the first blood spilled on the dawn air.

Sharon quietly opened the house door. They entered. Sharon was terrified, her hands shaking so badly she couldn’t hold the gun steadily. Tina snatched it from her.

“Stay here,” Tina whispered, her voice colder than the morning air.

She walked straight into Daniel’s room. He had forgotten to lock the door. Tina entered and saw Daniel and Alice sleeping side-by-side, the innocent victims of Sharon’s jealousy and Tina’s malice. Without hesitation, she shot Daniel in the head. Then she shot Alice too. She turned and ran out.

Outside, Tina performed the final, devastating act of betrayal. She suddenly removed her mask and handed the gun—the murder weapon—to Sharon.

As they were about to escape, Tina grâbbed Sharon from behind and scrêamed loudly:

“Somebody help oo! Someone kîlled her husband and she wants to run away!”

The Crowd and the Fire

The noise, the blood, and the screaming worked perfectly. Some neighbours and street boys rûshed out immediately. They saw the dêad gatekeeper. They entered the house and found Daniel and Alice’s bodies. The horrifying focal point: Sharon was still wearing the mask… and holding the gun.

Tina pointed her finger, her voice a piercing, hysterical accusation. “Catch her! She is the kîller!”

The native doctor’s prophecy instantly materialized. The crowd, driven by mob justice and the evidence in front of them, began bêating Sharon.

“Let’s burn her alive! She’s an evîl woman!” Tina shouted, inciting the final act.

People brought a tyre. Tina ran to Sharon’s car, took the petrol she had planned for this very moment, and poured it all over Sharon. They placed the tyre on her neck and struck a match.

As someone brought the fire close to her bødy, Sharon let out a pîercing scréam—one filled with agøny, fear, and utter helplessness. The terrible realization of the “wise person” who had dug her grave, and the traps she had so blindly walked into, hit her in that final, terrifying second.

But just before the fire touched her, something unimaginable happened… Something so shocking, so unbelievable that she never expected in her entire life.

To be continued…