The Coopers thought that they had found their dream house. It was located in a quiet surburb with a big garden at the back and a cute nursery for little Ava.
The house was equipped with modern home surveillance system, and this meant a lot of assurance for them. As new parents, it certainly helped to check on any room through their phones.
After exactly one week of being there came the first alert from the surveillance camera.
Motion detected: Nursery-2:14 am.
Liam stirred, annoyed by the notification sound. He glanced at the phone screen, the camera feed showed the nursery. Everything was intact, little Ava was fast asleep in her crib. The rocking chair by the window quietly sat in the shadows.
“It's nothing,” he had said. He locked the phone and turned over.
But they continued waking up to the alerts which always happened from 2 to 3 in the morning. Always from the nursery, and every time they checked out the feed, nothing would be there.
“I think we should have this system checked,” Emily said one morning, scrolling through a list of night alerts. “This isn’t normal at all.”
"It’s just a glitch," Liam said, half-asleep. "Maybe the curtain is moving because of the vent or something, it's nothing but a false alarm."
But Emily wasn’t so sure, especially after what happened the previous night.
She had stayed up with Ava until very late, reading her some bedtime stories. She was teething and restless but after she finally drifted off to sleep, Emily watched her for a while, then turned to leave
That was when the rocking chair creaked. She turned slowly and saw the chair moving.
There was no wind, the windows were shut, and yet the chair rocked gently, as if someone had just gotten up from it.
Emily stood frozen. Then, through the baby monitor which was clipped to her robe, she heard a giggle. Like that of an older child.
Her heart pounded as she stepped back into the room and surveyed it.
“Is… is someone here?” she whispered.
The air was cold, unnaturally cold.
Ava slept on, undisturbed. There was no one.
Emily closed the door and didn’t sleep at all that night.
Over the next few days, the alerts continued.
The security company came to check every camera and motion sensor.
“Everything’s working fine, you’re probably just getting false triggers, nighttime bugs or maybe a curtain movement.” The technician said.
But then Ava began to change.
She started waking up at odd hours, babbling and giggling alone. When Emily or Liam peeked into the nursery, they’d find her sitting up, facing the empty corner of the room.
One night, Ava didn't even notice Emily’s presence as she continued with her giggles, as if she was playing with a friend.
Emily blinked. “Who's it sweetie?”
She simply pointed her fingers towards the empty corner of the room.
Her actions sent a chill down Emily’s spine.
The next day, she began searching the house’s history. She found something — a local news article from ten years ago.
A little girl named Lily had lived in the same house, with her parents, ten years ago. One night, she vanished from her nursery, without any sign of a forced entry.
Just an open crib, and silence.
Her body was never found and the case had remained unsolved.
She was six years old.
Emily showed the article to Liam, who finally began to take it seriously.
“We need to get her out of that room,” he said.
From that night on, Ava slept in their room. But the alerts didn’t stop.
One night, Liam woke to another notification. He opened the live feed — and what he saw made his blood run cold.
The crib was empty, of course. Ava was with them.
But the rocking chair was moving, slowly. Back and forth.
And then, a flicker of a little girl's face, on the edge of the screen.
She stood near the chair, long hair falling over her face. She turned, lifting her head just slightly, and looked directly into the camera.
The screen glitched. Then went dark.
They called a spiritual medium.
“She doesn’t know she’s dead,” the woman said after walking the house. “She’s looking for a friend, for someone to play with.”
“Is she dangerous?” Emily asked.
“She’s lonely,” the woman replied carefully. “But loneliness can turn into something darker.”
That night, the temperature in the nursery dropped below freezing. The windows frosted over from the inside, doors creaked open on their own, the monitors buzzed with static.
At exactly 3:00 AM, Ava sat upright in their bed, giggling and babbling with someone.
The Coopers packed and left the next morning. They never returned. The house was blessed, the nursery sealed off, still, Emily never deleted the home security app from her phone.
One night, weeks later, a notification popped up.
Motion detected: Nursery – 2:17 AM.
Curious, and with a sense of dread, she tapped to open the feed.
There was no crib anymore, no baby.
Just an empty room. And a chair.
The chair was rocking, and beside it stood a little girl, swaying gently.
She lifted her pale face and smiled.
Then she whispered:
“Where’s Ava? I miss my friend.”
All images are AI generated.
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