The mother’s heart raced as she awaited her son’s words, the soft light of dawn casting shadows across the room. Her eldest child looked up at her, his eyes wide and earnest, carrying a depth of understanding that seemed far beyond his years.
“I have to keep him safe, Mom. The shadow man comes at night,” he whispered, his voice trembling with quiet resolve.
The mother’s blood ran cold. Their home had always been a place of calm and routine, surrounded by familiar neighbors and the ordinary comforts of daily life. Yet here was her son, certain that a “shadow man” lurked in the night, a presence unseen but somehow threatening.
Kneeling to meet his gaze, she wrapped her arm around him. “What do you mean, sweetheart? Tell me about the shadow man.”
He hesitated, glancing at his little brother sleeping peacefully in her arms. “I see him sometimes. He stands in the corner of my room, watching. He never comes close, but when I wake up at six, he’s gone. I think he might try to come for my brother if I’m not there.”
A surge of protective instinct coursed through her. She had always considered their home a sanctuary, yet her eldest’s words hinted at danger beyond her understanding. Was it imagination, a lingering dream, or something else entirely?
Determined to find answers, she resolved to investigate. She set up baby monitors in both rooms, hoping to capture any unusual activity, and planned to speak with her husband to see if he had noticed anything strange.
