But there was a problem. The problem was Mrs. Juliana.

Juliana had never wronged him. In fact, she was a virtuous woman.

Despite her demanding work schedule as a nurse, she always came home to cook fresh meals. She washed all the dishes and kept the house sparkling clean, just to please her husband and maintain peace.

But these days, Mr. Abel was not interested in peace. He kept creating quarrels and unnecessary problems. If the food was hot, he would scream that it burned his tongue. If the food was cold, he would accuse her of being lazy.

He did all this to frustrate his wife, hoping she would pack her bags and leave.

But Juliana seemed to endure it all. She would simply apologize and continue taking care of the children.

Desperate and impatient, Abel sought out a dark spiritualist—The Man—so he could get rid of her permanently.

Earlier that evening at the shrine, The Man had looked at Abel with red eyes. He handed him an empty bottle and instructed him to go behind the hut and urinate into it.

Abel did as he was told. He filled the bottle and brought it back. The Man took the warm bottle and disappeared into his inner chamber. Abel could hear him chanting strange words and ringing a bell.

After ten minutes, he returned to meet Mr. Abel. The urine looked the same, but the heavy atmosphere in the room suggested that something had changed.

“Sprinkle this urine on her mouth while she is asleep, and then watch her die within three days!” The Man said, handing the bottle back.

Abel looked at the yellow liquid skeptically. He wanted Juliana gone, but this seemed too simple.

“How? Urine is not deadly enough to kill someone, so why are you saying this?” Mr. Abel asked.

The Man’s face twisted into a scowl. He slammed his hand against the wooden table.

“No one has ever doubted me before. Just do what I say and watch her die before your very eyes!” the man thundered.

Mr. Abel, trembling with both fear and excitement, took the bottle of urine. He hid it deep inside his jacket pocket and left the shrine.

On his way home, his heart pounded rapidly. He began thinking of a plan. He could not simply walk up to her and pour it on her; she would wake up and fight back. Juliana was strong. He had to be clever.

When he arrived home, the house was quiet. The two girls were already asleep in their room. Juliana was sitting in the living room, waiting for him. She looked tired, her eyes heavy from a long shift at the hospital, but she still managed a smile.

“Welcome home, my husband,” she said gently. “Your food is on the table.”

Abel did not answer. He clutched the bottle in his pocket, feeling its warmth against his side. He looked at her neck, imagining her gone, imagining Sandra in this house instead.

“I’m going to bed,” Abel grunted as he walked past the food. “Don’t wake me up.”

He went into the bedroom and placed the bottle under his pillow. Then he lay there in the dark, wide awake, waiting. He needed her to fall into a deep sleep. He needed her mouth to be slightly open, just enough for the drops of death to slip in.

An hour later, Juliana entered the room. She said her prayers and lay down beside him. Soon, her soft breathing filled the room. She was asleep.

Abel slowly sat up. The moonlight shining through the window fell across Juliana’s face. She looked peaceful. For a brief moment, his hand trembled. But then he remembered Sandra’s youthful face and the promise he had made.

He reached beneath the pillow and pulled out the bottle. He unscrewed the cap.

He was standing by the bed, his heart thumping like a drum. The room was dark, and the only sound was the slow, steady breathing of Juliana. Abel’s hands were shaking as he opened the bottle. A sharp, strange smell filled his nose, but he didn’t care. He tilted the bottle carefully.

He successfully sprinkled the liquid right on Juliana’s lips. She didn’t move. She didn’t even cough. She stayed deep in her sleep, completely unaware that her husband had just done something so terrible. Abel smiled in the dark. He fe