The Crib Mystery

Becoming parents was supposed to be the happiest moment of our lives, but for my husband and me, it had turned into a waking nightmare. Our baby would scream uncontrollably every time we put him in his crib—day or night. We tried everything: lullabies, rocking him to sleep, even consulting doctors. Nothing worked. The cries weren’t just those of a fussy infant—they were screams of pure terror.

One particularly exhausting evening, I decided to check on him one last time before bed. As I stepped into the nursery, my husband following close behind, my heart stopped.

The crib was empty.

Instead of our baby, there was a note and a small dictaphone lying where he should have been. Panic gripped me as my husband snatched up the note and began reading it aloud. His face drained of color with every word.

The note said:
“We tried to warn you. You didn’t listen. Play the tape, and you’ll understand why your son isn’t safe with you.”

My hands trembled as my husband pressed play on the dictaphone. A deep, distorted voice began to speak:

“You ignored the signs. The screams were not just cries for comfort—they were warnings. Something has been watching him, waiting. We took him somewhere safe, somewhere they cannot reach. But beware… they may turn their attention to you now.”

The recording ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in the room.

I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced with questions. Who were they? Who had taken our son? And why did it feel like… whoever—or whatever—took him might have saved him from something far worse?

Before we could react, the baby monitor on the dresser crackled to life. Through the static, a faint sound emerged—an eerie, guttural laugh that didn’t belong to our baby.

The nightmare was far from over.