Whispers in nursery ( part 1 )

Late one night, Sarah heard faint whispers coming from her baby monitor, though her child was fast asleep. She crept into the nursery, only to find the rocking chair moving on its own, as if an unseen figure was cradling the air.

The whispers turned into a chilling lullaby as the temperature dropped suddenly. Paralyzed with fear, she watched a handprint appear on the frosted window. Then, a voice behind her whispered, "Leave the baby to me."

As Sarah turned around, the nursery door slammed shut, locking her inside. The rocking chair creaked violently now, moving faster, as though something was enraged.

She clawed at the door, screaming, but her voice was drowned out by a guttural growl emanating from the shadows. A chilling wind swept through the room, and the mobile above the crib spun wildly, its tinkling melody distorted into a sinister tune. Suddenly, the growling stopped, and a hoarse voice hissed, "You were warned."

As Sarah backed away from the crib, her heart pounding, she felt a cold breath on her neck. Spinning around, she saw nothing, but the oppressive silence felt suffocating.

The temperature continued to drop, and the baby’s monitor crackled with a voice that was no longer a whisper but a clear command: "Don’t fight it."

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and for a split second, Sarah saw a shadowy figure standing over her child’s crib—tall, gaunt, with hollow eyes. The figure grinned, revealing sharp, yellowed teeth.

Terrified, she rushed to grab her baby, but the figure vanished in an instant, leaving only the sound of a door slowly creaking open.

Grabbing her baby tightly, Sarah bolted out of the nursery, her feet pounding against the cold floor. She reached the hallway, but the door at the end slammed shut on its own, the walls vibrating with an unnatural force.

Behind her, the baby monitor she still clutched came alive again. This time, it wasn’t a whisper or command, but the sound of a child crying—except it wasn’t her baby. It was distorted, mournful, and older, echoing with an unnatural resonance.

Suddenly, the hallway lights dimmed, and the air grew heavier as a voice snarled from the shadows, "You’ve taken what’s mine, now it’s my turn."

Panicking, Sarah clutched her baby and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The crying from the monitor grew louder, morphing into anguished screams.

From the darkness, the shadowy figure began to materialize again, its form twisting unnaturally as it crawled toward her. “You can’t leave,” it hissed, its voice layered with tones that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.

Desperate, Sarah screamed, “What do you want?” The figure paused, tilting its head unnaturally, before replying, “A mother... for the ones you left behind.”

The hallway faded into pitch black, and the last thing Sarah felt was icy hands pulling her into the void.

When Sarah awoke, she found herself in a dim, suffocating room filled with old, broken toys and faded photographs of children she didn’t recognize......

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