MicroHorror

I was sound asleep when I heard it. The loud cry that startled me from my dreams. Lifting my head from the pillow, I stared at the open bedroom door, down the dark hall where the crying was emitting from. Looking over at my wife, who seemed to be in such a deep state of dream that the sound did not wake her, I slid out of bed. The crying softened as I neared the last room on the left: the baby’s room. The large white crib shook as soon as I entered, then I heard a soft giggle vibrate along the yellow walls. My precious daughter. My pride and joy. Smiling as I wandered towards her, I lifted her up from her wooden prison. “Hello, my love,” I whispered as I kissed the top of her head. She was so gorgeous, an angel from heaven.

“Kevin, what are you doing?”

My wife’s voice diverted my attention. Peering over at her, I replied, “I’m just holding our daughter.”

“Kevin…” She sounded frightened as she took a slow step towards me, reaching an arm out. I let her place it on my shoulder as she frowned down at my cradled arms. “Come back to bed with me. You’re tired.”

I gave her a strange look before glancing back at the baby. Terror filled my heart as I noticed she was gone. She had vanished from my gentle embrace.

“Where is she?” I asked my wife shrilly, looking down into the empty crib. My eyes surveyed the entire room but the baby was nowhere to be found. “Where is my baby?” I cried hopelessly, feeling my wife’s hold on my arm tighten.

“Come on, Kevin…” She tugged me but I wouldn’t budge.

“Tell me where she is!” I yelled at her.

Her face heated as she took her hand off of me. “Stop this right now.”

I glared at her. “Where did she go, Sheryl? You better tell me.”

Sheryl remained quiet as she stared at the beige carpeting, a small baby toy lying at her feet. She picked it up slowly, staring at it with a fixed expression of sadness. “The baby is gone, Kevin. You know that. You were there when she… when she died.” She finished shakily.

Confused and doubt filled my mind as I glanced at the toy. My little girl is dead? No, she couldn’t be. She was just born. How could she already be dead?

“You’re a liar,” I said into the still night.

My wife’s brows rose as she stared at me. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re exhausted.”

“No,” I spat, grabbing her hand tightly. “I’m wide awake.”

“Kevin, you’re hurting me.” She moaned as she tried to pull her hand away, but I held on tighter. “Kevin!” She yelled loudly, terror creeping into her voice.

“Are you scared, Sheryl?” I asked her.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because,” I said angrily, forcing her onto the floor. “You’re hiding her from me! I want to know why!”

“Kevin, please!” She cried. She was trembling now as I twisted her arm behind her back. I watched the flow of tears stream down her face as she looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes, the same blue eyes our daughter inherited.

Picking up the small child-sized rocking chair that sat next to the crib, I asked her one last time. “Where is she, Sheryl?”

Her eyes went wide as she stared at me, then at the pink chair that was raised above her head. As her face wrinkled up with grief, she murmured sadly, “She’s dead.”

“Wrong answer,” I told her as I brought the chair swift against her skull. Her head split from impact, and as the blood trickled down her face, I heard my daughter laugh one last time.