My wife has been peeking at me from around corners and behind furniture. It's gone from weird to terrifying

We’ve been married four years now and everything was sheltered in normalcy. My wife, Laura, was the ideal woman. She’s a third-generation American and also a third-generation witch. I’m not saying that because I’m afraid of being doxxed. She’s not that kind of witch. It’s more like the modern-day, new-age-y, wiccan Omarosa holistic type of witch. <br><br>A month ago, she was out with her sister and she called me crying saying she wanted to come home. I asked what was wrong and she wouldn’t tell me but insisted she wanted to come home. When I saw her, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Not just any ghost, a spiritual entity that had taken possession of her body and was using it to make her cry. So I knew it was bad.<br><br>I asked her what was wrong multiple times. I wanted to know what had happened. She wouldn’t answer. She just sat on the stairs dead in posture, staring into the abyss. I asked her if she needed an Uber to come home. She said yes. I ordered her an Uber and waited for her to come home.<br><br>I texted her sister asking what had happened. She said Laura had a revelation. I prodded her for details. She said they were having drinks and doing tarot card readings and Laura discovered something. That's when I called her. She said Laura had discovered some heavy shit. When I pressed for specifics she said she couldn’t tell me and hung up the phone. <br><br>Laura entered the apartment. I thought we were going to talk. We didn’t. Instead, she went to the bedroom and shut the door. Later, I opened the door to bring her food and that’s when I saw her peeking out from behind the TV. It was scary because the lights were off in the room and she had a square piece of cardboard up to her face. All I could see was her beady eyes peeking out at me. She was completely deadpan. She didn’t move or say a word. After the initial shock wore off, I laughed and said what the fuck are you doing. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. I said what the fuck are you doing and set the food down. She didn’t say anything. I shut the door and left her alone. <br><br>The next morning, I woke up to her peeking behind the couch off the ground. Her beady little eyes again. There was cardboard up to her face, the same size as the piece of cardboard from the night before. I asked her what she was doing again, laughing. She didn’t laugh back. I walked closer to her and she scurried on all fours into the dining room. What the fuck was she doing? <br><br>I went back to bed. I couldn’t deal with this. I thought maybe she was possessed. I remembered her father was a freemason and wondered if they had made her do something weird as a child. Maybe it had something to do with the revelation she had at the bar. I knew freemasons did weird shit. Was Laura trying to tell me something? No. It couldn’t be that. I went back to sleep. <br><br>When I woke up, I was alone in the house. I called her at work. She said everything was fine. I asked what was up with the cardboard. She said it has something to do with the universe. I said what? She hung up the phone. <br><br>That night, she came home and peeked at me from the kitchen. She was only using one eye and there was cardboard up to her face. I asked what she was doing. She scurried away and I heard the bathroom door shut. <br><br>The next day, I came home early from work and that’s when I caught her. She was peeking out from behind the curtain and cardboard was covering a good majority of her face, blocking out half her eyes. I caught her. She didn’t scurry away. I asked her what the fuck she was doing? She didn’t answer. I repeated myself. She didn’t answer again. I said are you possessed or something? She didn’t answer. I approached her and she didn’t move. She was paralyzed in fear. I approached the curtain and stood above her. She still didn’t move. “Laura, what’s going on.” She mumbled something inaudibly. “Laura, what’s going on.” She mumbled something inaudibly. “Laura, what’s going on.” And that’s when she said it. “I’m trying to get it out of my head.” <br><br>I let out a sigh of relief. I finally had an answer. I said what’s going on. She paused. I repeated myself. She paused again. I asked her what was going on a third time and she said, “I don’t know how to explain it. I just know how to get it out.” <br><br>I was taken aback. I asked her to elaborate. She didn’t answer. I asked her had she been high the last month. She didn’t answer. I kept asking her questions. She wouldn’t answer any of them. I wanted to know what was going on. She wouldn’t tell me. I kept asking her what she was doing with the cardboard. She wouldn’t answer. I got tired of asking her questions and left the room. <br><br>Over the past month, I’ve caught Laura peeking at me ten different times. The cardboard became more elaborate. She started taping it together to make a full head mask. She made a more extensive box to cover her body. It’s not cardboard anymore. It’s wood. She’s been peeking at me from around corners and behind furniture. It’s gone from weird to terrifying.