The Baby Monitor

Trigger Warning: Gore, horror, and other themes that may be distressing to some readers. Discretion is advised.

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Sadie barely noticed the sun setting through the storm clouds rolling in.

The clouds grumbled in the distance as she laid her now-sleeping daughter in her crib. By the time Sadie finished sterilizing baby bottles and checking the baby monitor, the wind was clawing at the windows like a tiger desperate to get into the house. She watched as the rain came down, sporadically lit in the blue tint of lightning flashing.

With a small shiver, Sadie gathered the baby monitor and sank into the couch with a blanket and her knitting; she hated when her husband had to leave for work, leaving her and Brandy alone for the weekend. The walls felt like they were talking again, groaning under the pressure of the storm outside. Reaching forward, Sadie placed the baby monitor on the coffee table and pressed the button by the screen.

Static.

Then a soft inhale. A tiny baby sigh. Sadie exhaled too.

"We're okay," she whispered, to no one in particular. She picked up her needles, setting up the balls of yarn next to her. Hopefully she could get this sweater for her husband finished. She glanced again at the grainy image on the monitor; Brandy was sleeping soundly in her swaddle, unbothered by the storm. Sadie grinned slightly; she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to sleep that soundly.

---

By the time 9 pm rolled around, the wind had subsided. The occasional rumble and soft pitter-patter of rain complimented the sound of her needles clicking and sliding against each other while Sadie watched TV. The volume was low, keeping the shrieks of women on her favorite dating show from waking Brandy down the hall.

A sound caught Sadie's attention. She muted the TV, listening intently.

There is was. A soft hum.

Not a cry or a fuss. Just... humming.

Sadie set aside her needles, leaning forward to locate the sound. She caught the sound, a soft lullaby being hummed through the baby monitor. Her lullaby. Brandy was still sleeping in her swaddle peacefully. Furrowing her brow, Sadie stood, padding softly down the hallway to Brandy's room. The nursery door was still shut. She turned the knob slowly, opening the door.

Silence.

Sadie stayed a moment longer, listening to the soft inhale and exhale of her precious girl. She smiled, then quietly closed the door behind her, returning to her knitting on the couch. She picked up the monitor, rewinding the footage. The humming was gone. Must have been a glitch.

Weird.

She shook off the strange tingle in her spine, then settled back in to her show and her crafting.

---

Just before 11 pm, Sadie set aside her knitting, stretching as she yawned. She settled into the couch, leaning on the arm, looking down at the monitor. Brandy stirred a little, letting out a little sigh. Sadie picked up the monitor, admiring her daughter. She couldn't believe it had already been 3 months since she had brought home her tiny pink bundle with her husband, fawning over those giant blueberry eyes.

There was a momentary stutter in the feed. It was quick, like someone had smudged static across the screen. When the picture returned, Sadie swore she saw herself in the nursery.

Not her reflection.

Standing.

Still.

Watching.

Then simply gone.

Sadie blinked hard, rubbing her eyes. She rewound the footage; nothing there. Just Brandy sleeping peacefully. She shook her head a little. Sleep had been evasive lately. Sadie set the monitor down by her head on the arm of the couch, adjusting her blanket around her.

---

Midnight came, and the power flickered.

Sadie woke to the sound of her kitchen clock beeping as the power returned. She rubbed her eyes, the lights dimming and surging around her. Outside, the storm had picked back up. She checked the monitor, seeing that it was resetting to the live view. As the screen clicked on, panic clutched her ribs.

The crib was empty.

Sadie tossed her blanket aside, sprinting to the nursery. She threw the door open, the door banging against the wall behind it. Brandy whined a little at the sound, still swaddled in her crib, stirring from the surprise.

Clutching her chest, Sadie leaned over the crib, watching as Brandy started twisting around. She reached down to caress Brandy's soft hair, shushing her and humming to get her settled again.

She paused as her fingers touched Brandy's skin; the baby was cold. Not lifeless, but like the room had no heat. Once Brandy settled, Sadie quietly closed the door to the nursery behind her, checking the thermostat. The room was registering as warm. She shook her head, turning up the heat by a couple notches. She returned to the couch, waiting for her heartbeat to settle.

---

Sadie was struggling to settle. She did her best to just watch her TV show, but she couldn't stop obsessively checking the baby monitor. There hadn't been a sound for hours, apart from Brandy crying when it was time for a bottle. She'd taken the whole bottle easily, then went straight back to sleep after receiving a fresh, dry diaper.

Every time Sadie would start drifting off, she'd snap awake, thinking that something would be wrong on the monitor. Every time, nothing had changed. Brandy slept peacefully; no humming, no odd glitches in the feed. By 3 am, Sadie had finally started feeling at ease. She'd drifted off, clutching the monitor to her chest.

"Shhhh... Mama's here, baby. Mama is here."

Sadie's eyes flashed open. The voice was her own.

On the screen of the monitor, Brandy's eyes were open.

Wide. Too wide.

She stared directly at the camera. The screen flickered again, and when the feed returned, the crib was empty once again. Sadie froze, wondering if the feed was scrambled from the storm.

The corner of Brandy's room caught her eye; there she was again. Sadie's breath caught in her chest as she watched a figure gently rocking Brandy to sleep.

It was her.

Sadie.

Sadie looked around her, knowing full well that she couldn't be in her daughter's room right now.

"I'm just tired," she whispered, rushing to the nursery. "That's all it is, I'm just tired." She looked down at the monitor in her hands as she reached the door.

The Sadie in the monitor stared into the camera with a smile just a little too wide. Sadie could feel her bones itching with unease, and she took a breath, pushing the door open, scared to see what was on the other side.

As the door swung open, Sadie saw an empty room, her daughter still sleeping in the crib.

---

Sadie didn't know if she had blacked out, or simply fallen asleep. She opened her eyes, sleeping on the soft, plush carpet of the hallway outside of her daughter's room. She lifted the monitor, expecting to maybe see Brandy kicking in her bed, playing with her blanket.

No.

Sadie was in the rocking chair again, smiling into the monitor. The lighting seemed off, shadows all over the carpet and walls. Sadie stared at the face, the smile seeming to spread too far ear-to-ear, clutching Brandy just a little too hard.

"Mama is here."

The sound came through the monitor like gravel wrapped in static. Sadie desperately wanted to stand, but she couldn't convince her limbs to move. She watched as the hand, her hand, travelled up from Brandy's back to her neck.

Snap.

Sadie screamed, a raw, animalistic sound, hurling her body at the door. She scrambled, clawing at the door know, her hands slick. She finally threw open the door.

Blood. So much blood.

Splashed across the walls, the floor, the crib, the now-empty rocking chair.

The crib was split down the middle.

Brandy was gone.

Not just dead. Gone.

Sadie crumbled onto the floor, her scream curdling into sobs. As she looked up to the ceiling, she caught view of the mirror that sat across from Brandy's crib, her reflection taunting her.

Blood, dark and dry, crusted all over her skin. Caked under her nails. Dried around her hairline. Streaked across her chest. Her clothes. Matting her hair.

Panic bubbled up her throat, turning to bile that was released all over the bloodied carpet. She gasped, crawling back to the hallway where the monitor was laying on the floor. Desperately, she scrambled to rewind, to see what had happened.

Nothing.

No footage. No sound.

Just a blank screen reflecting her face back to her.

She dropped it as another scream tore out of her, then crumpled as the world spun and went black.

---

The storm had passed.

Outside of Sadie's home, neighbors crowded the sidewalk. Police cars lined the street. The noise of the paramedics breaking down the front door had drawn a crowd.

Sadie lay inside, unconscious in the nursery, cradling a blanket soaked through with blood. What remained inside wasn’t a baby. It wasn’t anything.

No footage. No Brandy.

Just a house that stunk of rot and copper.

---

Outside, an officer jotted notes as a paramedic zipped up his jacket.

“You said she was alone?” he asked.

The neighbor, a woman in her seventies wrapped in a flannel robe, nodded firmly.

“She was. Her husband’s been dead for three months.” She looked away, toward the house. “I went to the funeral. Tried to check in on her after she miscarried.”

She paused as the medics wheeled Sadie past her, her eyes vacant and fixed on nothing.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her leave the house since.”