I rushed to the baby monitor, watching the live feed on my phone. The image was grainy, but I could see Edduin still in his crib. No signs of anyone else. The screen was quiet for now, but I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that something had happened in that room, something I wasn’t meant to see.
I checked the monitor’s history, going back a few days. I’d been so focused on making sure Edduin was safe that I hadn’t really paid attention to the previous recordings. But now, as I scrolled through the footage, my stomach twisted with dread. I paused on one clip from the day before, watching as Edduin’s room slowly darkened with the setting sun. The strange part wasn’t the lack of sound or the absence of anyone—no, what made my blood run cold was the brief moment when a shadow passed across the crib. A shadow that wasn’t mine. It was as if someone—or something—had moved just outside the camera’s range.
I dashed to the baby monitor and checked the live stream on my phone. The footage was blurry, but I could clearly see Edduin in his cot. There is no evidence of anyone else. Now that the screen was quiet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t have watched what happened in that room.
I reviewed the history of the monitor, which dated back a few days. I’d been so concerned with keeping Edduin safe that I hadn’t paid any attention to the earlier recordings. But now, as I browsed through the film, my gut tightened with fear. I paused on a video from the previous day, witnessing the setting sun darken Edduin’s room. The bizarre aspect wasn’t the silence or the lack of anyone—what made my blood run cold was the brief instant when a shadow moved across the cradle. A shadow that was not mine. It appeared like someone—or something—had gone just beyond the camera’s range.
My hand trembled as I rewound the clip. The shadow was distinct. There was a towering, formless figure hovering near the crib’s edge. But as I attempted to figure out details, the shadow vanished, like smoke in the air.
I felt a chilly tide of terror wash over me. My mind raced, attempting to come up with an excuse. Could it have been a trick of the lighting? Perhaps a reflection from outside? But then I recalled the giggling—a gentle, high-pitched sound emanating from Edduin’s chamber. That was not something I could simply dismiss.
I eyed Edduin, who was still looking at me with his huge, innocent eyes. He didn’t appear to notice anything out of the ordinary, but I could tell something was not right in that place. The vibe was not right. It felt oppressive, as if someone or something was watching me and waiting.
The chuckling sound, faint but definite, returned. My blood froze. It was no longer simply a sound. This time it felt genuine.
Without thinking, I pulled Edduin from his cot and cradled him close to my chest. The room was colder now, and I began to shiver, not from terror, but from an impulse I couldn’t suppress. I realized I wasn’t alone anymore. I looked at the baby monitor again, and the screen was filled with static. The shadow reappeared, this time in closer proximity, towering above Edduin’s cradle, as if it had been observing all along.
I backed out of the room, my feet shaky as I carried Edduin. My thoughts raced. What was this? Was it some kind of trick? Could everything be in my head? But deep down, I knew what I had seen, and I couldn’t excuse it any longer.
I decided to call in a professional. My acquaintance had named someone who specialized in paranormal activity, haunting, or whatever you wanted to call it. I didn’t care what the name was. I simply needed answers.
A man named Jason arrived at my residence a few hours later. Jason, in his forties, exuded a cool, controlled manner that somewhat alleviated the mounting sense of dread in the depths of my stomach. He had a bag full of tools, including tiny gadgets and what appeared to be recording equipment.
After I recounted what had happened, he installed some of his equipment in Edduin’s room, such as motion sensors and audio recorders. He also positioned an infrared camera in the corner, pointing right at the crib. Jason’s expression was serious, yet he did not appear terrified. He was determined to uncover the truth.
“We’ll know soon enough,” he added, preparing the last gadget. “Just monitor everything and maintain composure.” “We may catch something tonight.”
I nodded, attempting to calm my anxiety as best I could. The silence all around us made the home feel heavy. And as we were ready to exit the room, a faint sound resonated through the air.
The giggle.
It wasn’t only in my head. It was genuine. Jason also froze, his face turning pale as he heard it. Slowly, he turned to face me.
“Stay here,” he murmured. “I’m going to check something.”
As he neared the crib, the chuckling came to an abrupt halt. The room, which had before seemed so weighty, suddenly felt unsettlingly silent. Jason halted and looked at me, wide-eyed. “You weren’t imagining it,” he replied with amazement in his voice. “There’s definitely something here.”
Before he could finish his sentence, the camera captured it. A dark figure moved fast over the crib. A substanceless shadow, resembling smoke or mist, appeared. The room became extremely frigid.
I embraced Edduin closer, and Jason did not hesitate. He began to mumble something softly, his voice barely audible, as he attempted to cut off the link between whatever was in the room and the live world.
The giggling returned, this time louder and crisper, almost mocking.
But Jason was unafraid. He spoke louder now, his tone solid and forceful. The shadow in the corner appeared to pause for a time before dissipating. The temperature in the room gradually increased, and the heavy sensation began to dissipate.
When it was over, Jason glanced at me and nodded. “It’s gone,” he murmured, but his expression remained strained. “For now. You should keep a watch on things, but I don’t believe it’s over yet.
I felt a sense of relief wash over me, but I knew it wasn’t the last time I’d have to deal with whatever it was. The chuckling may have ended, but the shadow had left its imprint. And I knew, in the back of my mind, that it would return.