The Unseen Watcher

I was in shock as I looked at my daughter's four fingers, held up in the darkness of the night. My mind couldn't comprehend what was happening, and I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my chest. I tried to brush it off, thinking it was just a dream, but my daughter's presence in front of me was all too real.

I picked her up and brought her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. I tried to go back to sleep, but my mind wouldn't stop racing. I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. I decided to check on her one more time before going back to bed, but as I entered her room, I was met with an eerie silence. She wasn't there.

Panic set in as I searched the house, calling out her name. My wife woke up and joined in the search, but there was no sign of our daughter. We called the police and reported her missing, but they found no leads. We were at a loss, and my mind couldn't help but wander to the worst-case scenario.

As the days passed, we received no word of our daughter's whereabouts. We searched for her tirelessly, but it was as if she had vanished into thin air. We even received a visit from a private investigator, but he too, found no leads. It was as if she had never existed.

But then, we received a package in the mail. It was addressed to our daughter, and it was her birthday present. Inside was a note, written in what appeared to be a child's scrawl. It read, "You're next."

We were horrified. We didn't know what to make of the note or who could have sent it. But one thing was for sure, our daughter was not coming back. We were consumed with grief and fear, wondering what kind of monster would take a child away from her family.

As the weeks passed, strange occurrences began to happen in our home. We would hear whispers in the night, and our daughter's toys would be moved from their original positions. We tried to ignore it, thinking it was just our minds playing tricks on us, but the feeling of being watched never went away.

One night, I was home alone, and I heard a child's laughter coming from my daughter's room. I couldn't bring myself to enter, but I knew that it wasn't her. I knew that whatever was in there, it wasn't human.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know what was happening in my home. I set up a camera in my daughter's room and left it running overnight. The footage was chilling. I saw a figure, shrouded in darkness, playing with my daughter's toys. It was as if it was taunting me, reminding me of what I had lost.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave that house. I couldn't bear to be in the same place where my daughter had been taken from me. But as we were packing our things, we received another package. Inside was a photo of our daughter, smiling and happy. And then, we realized that the figure in the footage was not a monster, but our daughter. She had never left us, and she had been watching over us all along.

We were torn between relief and fear. We didn't know if our daughter was alive or dead, but we knew that she was still with us in some way. We couldn't explain it, but we knew that we had to stay in that house and protect it, for her sake.

From that day on, we never spoke of