I’ll preface this entire account by saying I’m a single dad with a 6-month-old baby boy, Eddie. It’s hard dealing with him on my own and trying to come to terms with the grief I’ve been feeling since my wife Selina died.
We were so happy when we found out that we were expecting. Everything was going really well with the pregnancy and we were both excited to meet little Eddie. But there were complications with the birth. The doctors tried their hardest but they ultimately told us that it came down to being able to save either Selina or Eddie. She chose Eddie.
As much as I love my son, I still miss her more than anything. My world’s been turned upside down and I could really do with her here right now to help me through it. But I’m still trying the best I can for the sake of our son.
We’ve had to move out of our home into a smaller apartment building. Currently, I’m looking after Eddie full time so at the moment I’ve been struggling to make any money for us. We’ve been living on the proceeds from selling our old home, as much as it pained me to do so. I’ve been doing the odd jobs on the side too, freelance writing stuff where I can work from my laptop so I don’t need to leave Eddie. It doesn’t pay as much but it’s still something, better than nothing.
As hard as things are, that’s not the reason I’m writing this. Everything was slowly moving along and I was just about coping until last week. Last week marked the time that Eddie turned 6 months old. He was coming along really well, he could now roll onto his front and watch me as I went about the chores in the house or made his bottles. He was also sleeping 8 hours at night now which was a godsend.
So I decided it was time for him to have his own room, that way he would get used to sleeping on his own and I would be able to sleep better without worrying if he was breathing every few minutes. A part of me was a little sad as I assembled the cot in our former spare room, what would now be Eddie’s room. His room was a bit smaller than mine but it still had a lot of space for him when he got older.
It even had a built-in closet that was sunken into the wall, with two slatted doors held together by a small metal hook and loop. That would be perfect to store all of his baby clothes in as he grew up without eating into his room to play.
In the rest of his room, I had set up his cot, a changing table with all of his diapers and wipes, a toy chest filled to bursting with all of the toys he’d been given throughout his 6 months of life, and a small chair that I could sit in so that I could read him his bedtime stories.
I’d painted the whole thing a light blue colour and painted shapes of clouds in different places to give him the impression that he was flying in the sky. I was quite proud of it, to be honest.
Night came and I carried Eddie into his new room in my arms, filled with a sense of pride that he was coming along so well, but also a sense of unease that I think all parents must get at this point. Sitting down in the chair, I gave him his nighttime bottle of milk while reading him a story. I could see his little eyelids start to droop as he drained the bottle, and before I’d even finished the story he was out for the count.
Slowly, I got up and walked over to Eddie’s cot, gently lowering him so as not to wake him from whatever dreams he was having. He looked so peaceful there, in his big boy cot in his own room.
I turned on the baby monitor I’d been given by a friend and sneaked to the door, trying to avoid making any noise that might wake my son and mean that I’d need to spend the rest of the night trying to get him back off to sleep.
As I was about to walk out of the door, I stopped and turned around, taking one last look at my child before leaving and closing the door. I didn’t hear a peep out of Eddie that night, I went in to check on him a few times, paranoia eating at me, but he was sound asleep.
I felt a little lost. After watching a film in the living room I decided to check on Eddie one last time before I called it a night. Poking my head around the door I could see him in his cot, but something was different. A sense of unease gripped me as I noticed he was the wrong way around. I’d placed him in with his head facing the wall without the closet, but now he was facing the other way so that he would be looking at the closet if he were awake.
He must have turned himself around in his sleep, I thought, reassuring myself that it was a normal occurrence. He had never done this before, but he was at the age where they’re doing new things every few days so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for him to have moved on his own.
I entered the room to re-position him, and immediately I felt an odd coolness in the air. It hadn’t been this cold when I put him down to sleep. The heating in this apartment wasn’t the best, so I assumed the radiator in this room was faulty. There was an odd smell too, like a lavender perfume. It must have been seeping in through the vents from one of the other apartments. I’ll take a look in the morning I thought.
I’d turn Eddie around and get him a blanket to keep him warm I thought to myself. As I turned towards the closet, there was another sight which made that uneasy feeling in my spine rear its head. Why was the closet latch undone?
Had I left it that way when I’d put Eddie to bed? I was convinced I’d returned the latch to its original place after I’d got out his sleep suit, but now it stood unlatched with the door slightly ajar.
I pulled it fully open, still feeling uneasy, but I was met with nothing but the same old closet, the piles of clothes in the exact same places that I’d left them. Shaking this off as my mind worrying about Eddie being on his own for the first time, I grabbed a spare blanket from the closet before closing it and putting the latch back on again.
I turned Eddie around, wrapping him in the new blanket so that he would be warm enough, checking he was sleeping soundly and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead before sneaking out again silently.
Exhausted, I lay down on my bed and let sleep wash over me like a dark wave. I don’t know how long I’d been asleep for, but I was roused from my slumber by a sound I couldn’t place. It seemed to be emanating from the baby monitor that was sitting on my bedside table. Immediately I sat bolt upright, wide awake assuming that Eddie was in trouble.
The sound coming through was faint, so much so that I had to hold it to my ear to make anything out. Much to my surprise, I wasn’t met with the crying of my 6-month-old as I was expecting. The noise coming through the monitors sounded more like whispering. Hushed words were being spoken softly, so quietly that I couldn’t make out. It was a little unsettling, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Was there someone in there with him?
I turned the monitor off, hoping that it was some kind of static malfunction or interference from another monitor in the apartment complex. When I flicked the switch and the monitor came back on I was met with nothing but the hum of ambient noise from Eddie’s room. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Satisfied that Eddie was fine and that the old monitor was on its way out, my heart rate slowed back down to reasonable levels and I became more aware of my surroundings. That cold that I’d felt in Eddie’s room had seemed to now be present in my room too, another radiator down. I tried to go back to sleep, pulling the covers tightly around me. It took me a while but eventually, I managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
I was awoken the next morning by the sounds of Eddie crying through the baby monitor. Checking my watch I noticed he’d made it through the entire night without waking up. I was filled with a sense of pride with my little man. It was enough to make me forget about the strange happenings of last night.
I prepared Eddie’s bottle in the kitchen and made my way into his room. “Good morning little man,” I said in my happiest voice as I pushed the door open. Eddie was in his cot, crying. He was facing the other way, he’d turned around again. It was a little disconcerting, but if he knew how to do that now I’d best get used to it.
I was about to pick him up and give him his bottle when my eye was drawn to the closet door. It was ajar again, the latch hanging loosely. I’d definitely closed it that second time. I sighed to myself. I know this is a cheap apartment but does nothing work?
Yet another thing I’d have to sort out. I picked Eddie up and took him into the living room where we continued about our day as normal. We went shopping and I took him for a stroll around the local park. He loved being out in the fresh air, just like his mother.
I had a look at the radiators in mine and Eddie’s rooms but I couldn’t see anything glaringly obvious with them that would cause them not to work so I reported it to our landlord. He said that he would get a plumber to take a look as soon as he could but it might be in a few days. I was annoyed but what could I do?
I also took a look at the latch but couldn’t figure out how it was coming undone. It didn’t look like anything was broken so I assumed it must just be due to the age of the thing. I’d go out and get another one tomorrow, but in the meantime, I would just prop something against it so that it wouldn’t open.
Soon it was getting dark again and nearing Eddie’s bedtime. We went through our nightly routine of bottle and story time as normal and I could see his eyelids starting to droop. Scooping him up, I gently placed him in his cot again and kissed his forehead, facing away from the closet, and covered him in his blankets. As I turned to leave, I placed the bag I used to carry Eddie’s things around in front of the closet door to keep it shut.
I played video games for a couple of hours after that, all the while one ear was on the monitor, listening for Eddie. After a while, I could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up with me and I made my way to my bedroom.
The apartment was silent as I got into bed. I sat there, reading for a bit before surrendering to sleep. I awoke in darkness again, my ears filled with a soft whispering from the baby monitor. It was louder than before, still not loud enough to make out words, but loud enough for me to make out the tone of the voice. It was an older voice, feminine. It was cooing and occasionally giggling.
Exasperated that I’d been woken up by the same interference as last night I reached for the monitor to turn it off and back on again and reset it. As I flicked the switch to turn it back on, my blood ran cold. I could still hear it, that voice. Exactly the same as before. There was someone in Eddie’s room.
I jumped to my feet and practically sprinted to Eddie’s room, my heart pounding in my chest. How had someone gotten in? What were they doing to him? Either way, they’re going to wish they’d left my son alone. The whispers grew louder as I approached Eddie’s door.
I charged into Eddie’s room, slamming the door as I did so. I looked around wildly, ready for a confrontation, searching for whoever was making the noises I’d heard in the baby monitor. There was no one there, there were no noises too. Only Eddie, facing the wrong way again. He started crying, I must have scared him as I slammed the door open.
The feeling of rage immediately dissipated as Eddie’s cries met my ears and I ran to him, scooping him up to comfort him. As I made my way over to my chair to sit with him and calm him all sorts of thoughts raced around in my head. What was happening? There was definitely a voice, where were they?
I sat there rocking Eddie, trying to coax him back to sleep. It was freezing in the room now, I thought to myself. The smell of lavender perfume was there too. I was contemplating this when I noticed the bag by the closet door. It wasn’t where I’d left it, it was to the side of the door which now stood ajar again, the latch hanging limply.
The rage flashed back. There, I thought. They’re hiding in his closet.
Gently putting Eddie back into his cot, I placed my one hand on the closet door, my other hand preemptively balled into a fist, ready to show whoever was in my son’s room that this was the wrong child to mess with.
Swinging the door back violently and yelling, a cold shiver ran down my spine. It was empty, there was no one in the closet, It was the same as the room, quiet and empty. I couldn’t be imagining this, it’s happened twice in a row.
I sat in the chair in Eddie’s room, not wanting to leave him again just in case. I know I’d not seen anything, but there was just this underlying sense that something was off. Maybe it was static or interference like I’d first thought. I’ll get a new baby monitor tomorrow, I thought, maybe one of the ones with a camera, that way I won’t scare my boy again unnecessarily.
I did that the very next day. Me and Eddie went to the store where I get most of Eddie’s things from and bought a new monitor. It wasn’t exactly top of the line, I couldn’t afford that, but it was better than the one I had, and the guy behind the counter assured me that as it went over the internet it shouldn’t pick up any interference from other baby monitors in the apartment complex. You can even get it to send alerts to your phone if it hears noises, he explained. While I was out I also headed to our local hardware store to grab a new latch for that closet.
As soon as I got back I took Eddie into his room and placed him on his playmat for some tummy time. Meanwhile, I got to work setting up his new monitor. It was surprisingly easy, and within minutes I’d got it working. Testing it with my phone I could clearly see Eddie on his mat and me sat there next to him. I could even hear the gurgling chuckles he was making to himself, as clearly through the phone as they were to my ears. That was one job down.
I got to work replacing the latch on the closet as Eddie busied himself with his reflection in one of the mirrors on his playmat. Within a few minutes, I’d removed the old latch and had the new one set in place and working. It was sturdier than the old one, and it didn’t budge when I rattled the door to check.
Please with myself, me and Eddie carried on our day as normal. I was actually looking forward to bedtime today, a bedtime with no disturbances from faulty monitors.
I put Eddie to bed as usual, then went about my night. Before long I could feel sleep calling to me, so I made my way to my room and prepared myself for the best sleep I’d had in days.
I was dragged from a particularly nice dream about winning an Oscar by an odd, incessant beeping noise. Bleary eyed I reached for the source of the sound. My hand found it and brought it to my face. My phone.
Unlocking the screen I was met with a single notification, plastered across the top of the screen in red letters. “Sound Detected By Camera 1”
Snapping out of my half-asleep stupor, I shakily unlocked the phone. This couldn’t be happening again, not with this new monitor. I opened the app and clicked to show the feed from Camera 1, dreading what I would see.
I froze in place, all of the blood drained from my face as the camera connected, speakers first, and I could hear that same whispering again, shushing and giggling like the night before. It wasn’t interference.
Then the video feed connected. I can’t get the image it showed me out of my head, I nearly screamed. The camera showed a wide shot of Eddie’s room, very clearly in black and white from the night vision setting.
I could see clearly that the closet door was wide open now, even though I’d replaced the latch and made sure it was firmly shut. But it wasn’t this that inspired such fear in me, it was the thing that was leaning over Eddie’s cot.
Stretched over Eddie, clad in a very old-looking black dress with thin wispy white hair and spindly gnarled fingers was what I assumed to be an old woman. I couldn’t make out her face. Her head was wrapped in a black shawl which covered most of her features and she was facing away from the camera. But she was leaning over Eddie, cooing to him and giggling, dangling her wizened fingers over him.
There was something unnerving about the way that she moved. Her movements seemed too precise and coordinated for someone of her age, she looked like she must have been at least 90. They were soft…controlled, not the slow and shaky way that people that age seem to move with.
Nausea welled up in my stomach as she slowly and carefully reached down to pick up my son. Her spindly fingers wrapped around him and she seemed to pull him close in a wretched embrace, cradling him in her arms. All I could imagine was her pulling his poor defenceless form close before running for the window, taking him from me forever.
I dropped the phone and charged towards Eddie’s room. There was no way I was going to let this old woman steal my son. How had she been getting in? I didn’t care, I just needed to get in there, to get him away from her.
I charged through Eddie’s door again, like the night before, ready to save him from the grip of this aged abductor. As I spun around to face where she was in the feed… There was nothing there. The room was empty again, and freezing. The smell of that lavender perfume was strong in the air. Eddie was awake. The wrong way around in his cot, cooing and giggling, looking at the closet. The door was wide open just like I’d seen on the camera.
She must have hidden in there when she heard me running down the hall. Barely containing my anger, I made my way over to it, shouting for her to make her way out or there’d be trouble. I was met with no response.
Flinging the door back in a rage, I was met with….nothing….again. I’d seen her, she was definitely in here, where could she possibly have gone? I started moving Eddie’s clothes around in the closet, in case she was hiding behind a large stack of them. Much to my dismay there was nothing.
I was about to give up my search when I noticed something. Sticking out from under a pile of Eddie’s pyjamas, was a thick, black shawl, just like the one she’d been wearing. There was no other trace of her. I tried to pick it up, but as my fingers closed around it, it crumbled away, filling the closet with the stench of that lavender perfume.
I’d had enough. I didn’t know what was happening but I wasn’t going to stand for it. There was someone here and they wanted my son. There’s no way I was going to let that happen.
Scooping up Eddie, I made my way back into my room. I set up the old Moses basket that he used to sleep in by the side of my bed and placed him in it before barricading the door with a chair. There was no way anyone was getting in here, even if they broke into Eddie’s room. I’d call the police in the morning and they’d find whoever did this, I’d get them to stake out the apartment if they had to.
Eddie fell to sleep straight away, not registering the events of the night, but sleep eluded me. I forced myself to stay awake in case anyone tried to take my son again. Sitting there in the near darkness, I kept my ears pricked for any sound that might indicate another person in the house. My nerves were completely shot at this point, so when the obnoxious beeping noise from my phone started I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Shakily reaching for it, I dreaded what would be there spread across my screen, although a part of me already seemed to know. “Sound Detected By Camera 1” was sprawled across the top of the screen in those ominous red letters I’d seen earlier in the night.
Eddie was in my room with me and there should have been no one else in the house. The old woman might have left her hiding place now, maybe she’d made a noise that the camera had picked up? With a trembling finger, I tapped the notification, needing to know where the old woman was getting into and out of the room from.
The app opened the same as before, the sound loading first, filling the room with that strange whispering again. Only this time it seemed different, off. Rather than the cooing whispering I’d heard for the past couple of nights, this sounded like a mix of sobbing and anger. This was more unnerving than the whispering, it sounded almost desperate.
Then the video feed loaded in and I could make out Eddie’s room again clearly. The closet door was wide open again and the old woman was standing there in the centre of his room, staring at the empty cot.
She seemed different this time though. She still had her back to the camera, but I could clearly make out her aged hands. They were elongated, reaching further than any human hands should, ending in long black fingernails. Her skin was a mottled grey colour and I could see black veins snaking their way from her hands up into her black dress.
She wasn’t wearing the shawl anymore, her ghost-white hair visible at the top of her head. She stood there, twitching, her arms and shoulders jerking at odd angles, she seemed almost like she was vibrating slightly. She was whispering to herself in that odd, desperate tone. Occasionally she would throw her head back in a cry.
Just what the hell was happening?
Then, almost as though she could sense me watching her through the monitor, she slowly spun herself around, her legs moving in an erratic jerking motion. When her body finally stopped contorting I nearly screamed.
I could clearly make out that face now, it was the same pale grey colour as the elongated fingers I’d seen before she turned around. It was also lined with the same thick black veins that snaked their way across her face and under her scalp.
She was staring at me through the feed, her eyes fixed on the camera, although it felt like she was looking directly into me. Her eyes were pitch black, the same colour as the veins running all over her. They were like shark’s eyes.
Slowly, she pulled back her lips into a terrifying grin, revealing several rows of yellow serrated teeth lining her mouth. Black ichor dripped from her mouth, flowing down her jaw and staining the front of her tattered black dress.
I was terrified, I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. This thing, it had been in Eddie’s room the entire time he’d been in there. I’d left him there, left him in danger. I shuddered to think what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten this new baby monitor.
Her face contorted again, this time into a mask of rage, and I could feel the immense hatred coming from behind those empty black eyes. Her jaw began to descend, leaking more black ichor and she let out a horrific scream that sounded like the word “Eeedddddiiiieeeeee” before the feed went black and was replaced with static. I’d heard it through the wall too, and almost felt it.
I sat there staring at my phone, watching the static flashing across the screen. I was numb. What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it wanted Eddie and now it was angry. I looked at my son, a feeling of fear for him, for his safety, and a feeling that I would do whatever it took to keep him safe filled me.
The static on my phone cleared and I could now clearly see Eddie’s room again. It was completely empty, everything was where it should have been. The closet door was also shut tight. I didn’t hear anything at all, the house was quiet again.
Suddenly the handle of my bedroom door turned and the door was pushed before slamming into my makeshift barricade. It rattled back and forth angrily, violently slamming into the chair, trying to move it, all the while I could hear that same shout. “Eeeeedddiiiieeee!!”.
I couldn’t move, I was wide-eyed with fear. This couldn’t be happening. The stench of lavender filled the room, but it wasn’t the sickly sweet smell like normal, it was near rancid, as though it had aged and decayed.
I didn’t take my eyes off of Eddie from that point. Not until the sun started rising and the banging at the door disappeared with it. My mind was broken, I couldn’t think straight. All I could think was that we needed to get out of here. It wasn’t safe.
Eddie started stirring for his morning bottle. Gingerly opening the door, I crept with him into the kitchen and prepared it for him, all the while listening out for signs of noises from his room. There was nothing but silence.
I knew we needed to get out of there, it wasn’t safe for Eddie and I had no idea how to protect him from whatever was in that room. Mustering up as much courage as I could, I made my way into his room to grab the essentials that we would need.
The smell of that lavender perfume was almost suffocating now. The room was still cold too. I ran in, throwing the closet door open and grabbing as many of his clothes as I could, stuffing them into an overnight bag.
As I was frantically moving the clothes, I couldn’t help feeling like I was being watched. Like there were a pair of dead, black eyes drilling into me. Once I’d got what I needed I ran from the room, slamming the door behind me. Scooping up Eddie, I got into my car and drove to my parent’s house.
I’m still there now, I don’t know what to do. I can’t go back there, it’s not safe for me or Eddie. I just hope that she doesn’t know where we’ve gone.