It was about 1am when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was a little louder than I had wished, and it blared me awake. I arose from my bed to go and take care of him.
Walking out of my room, I stopped at the door because I heard my wife over the baby monitor soothing him. With a sigh of relief, I crawled back into bed. I drifted off to the sound of my wife singing his favorite lullaby.
Her beautiful voice soothed both me and our child, and ultimately put us both to sleep. I slept very comfortably that night.
I awoke the next day in shock. I suddenly remembered my wife was two states away on a business trip. My grogginess last night left me unable to remember.
I sprinted to my babies room to find his tiny body mangled and ripped to shreds. I screamed in agony and shook with anger. I scanned the room for the culprit. Then the wall came into view.
On the wall written in my son’s blood.
"How was the lullaby?"
—
Credits to: Daniel Wyatt – Razac
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