All hell broke loose when Thomas and Sienna uploaded a photo on social media to commemorate their tenth wedding anniversary. A creepy face appeared in the image, triggering a chain of events that brought the happy couple face-to-face with a horrifying truth.
Thomas quickly set the camera timer and joined Sienna in front of the fireplace, saying, “Ten years.”
Sienna responded, “Ten years of us.”
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As the camera’s timer counted down, Sienna thought she heard a soft sound in the hallway behind her. Her attention flickered, but she quickly dismissed it and focused instead on their anniversary photo, another one of the pictures that captured their lives.
Their home had more than enough littered around and adorning the walls.
Thomas sighed, nostalgic all of a sudden. “I remember when we first moved in here… We spent two nights sleeping on the floor,” he said, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes.
Sienna added, “And now, every nook and cranny holds a piece of our story. And we also get to share these pieces with others…on social media.” She laughed, clicking on her phone and putting it away to enjoy the rest of the night.
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In the morning, the sun woke her up, but as she blinked into the light, Sienna realized that something else was also disturbing their peace.
“Check that, hon,” Thomas said, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s been pinging for a while now.”
Sienna reached for her nightstand, her eyes half-closed, and brought the phone to her face. Too many social media notifications had appeared. She checked them, rising a bit on the bed to get comfortable.
“People are saying there’s something weird in our photo,” she said, frowning. “I have several missed calls, too.”
Thomas moved his body over to see her phone. “Weird? Like what?”
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Sienna’s brow creased as she read some comments. “A strange face is in the background, they say. But that’s impossible, right?”
He sighed, grabbing the phone and studying the photo. “Probably just shadows or something. Don’t let it bother you.” He shook his head and gave her the phone back, then rose from the bed for the day. But Sienna continued reading.
There was one comment with a screenshot highlighting a creepy childlike face near her shoulder in their photo. “Thomas… What the hell is that?” she whispered in dread, her finger touching the screen.
Thomas, who had been brushing his teeth by then, came back and peered over. “It’s gotta be a prank.”
But Sienna was terrified, remembering the noise she had heard as the camera took the photo. So, she searched on her phone until she found the original picture in the gallery app.
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“This isn’t a glitch. It’s too defined, too real. Look at its expression,” she argued, her eyes wide and wild.
Thomas still wasn’t convinced, but Sienna wouldn’t let it go. She went through the pictures. “Look. In every photo, there’s this strange, hazy presence,” she pointed out. “I think… it could be a ghost. Maybe our house is haunted.”
“We’ve lived here for a decade. We would’ve noticed,” he scoffed, but it was a broken sound. Sienna could tell that he was confused, if not entirely worried.
As they contemplated the eerie discovery, Sienna went to the spot where the camera had been and began taking photos, searching for a logical explanation. But the experiment was cut short as she screamed in fright when hands closed over her shoulders.
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“Relax, love. It’s me,” her husband said, chuckling a bit. “Forget about that photo. We’ve got lunch reservations, remember?”
Sienna agreed and got ready but apprehensively looked around the house before leaving. She continued to stare intently around as Thomas opened the car door for her and later walked to the driver’s seat.
A movement made her focus on the window. The same eerie face had appeared, making her yelp. “Stop the car!” she insisted, pointing at the house. Thomas squinted but couldn’t see anything. It was gone, but Sienna was sure of what she had seen.
***
That night, Sienna was awakened by a mournful cry and footsteps in their house. “Darling, wake up. Do you hear that?” she whispered, hearing sobs from the hallway.
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Thomas woke and heard the noise, too. He immediately grabbed the phone.
“We can’t call 911 for a ghost!” Sienna argued, but he insisted on protecting them from a real-life threat. After finishing the call, he grabbed his gun and went to check things out.
Sienna refused to stay behind, saying, “I’m going with you!”
They cautiously approached the source of the mysterious sounds in their home. Thomas checked the guest bedroom, but footsteps echoed downstairs. They took each step carefully, hearing more noise–another language—coming from the kitchen.
Sienna jumped a little and yelped again after finally seeing the truth about their home intruder. This was no ghost. Instead, they discovered the unsettling presence of a malnourished boy — the same one from their photo. He was crying, his pale, bony face completely covered in tears and snot.
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“Freeze!” Thomas shouted, but the boy sobbed and shook his head. Her husband focused on the intruder and lowered his arm, realizing there was no danger. “Hey there, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you.”
“Help?” The child’s eyes widened with hope.
Despite her racing heart, Sienna’s fear turned to sympathy at his pleas. “You’re hungry, right?” she asked, grinning tenderly.
“Hungry, yes.” The boy nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Nikolai.”
As Sienna prepared a sandwich for Nikolai, the couple realized the boy had not meant to break in. He needed real help. “Where did you come from?” she asked gently.
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Nikolai remained silent, revealing that he had run from a “bad place.”
“Where’s your mother now?” she probed.
That perked him up a little. “You will help Mama?” he asked, sniffing.
Sienna stuttered for a second but nodded, “Of course we will, sweetheart. Just tell us how we can find her.”
“I see bear on wall and flowers in garden… flowers like sky. I run to wire wall, but big dog is there,” Nikolai sobbed again. “I bad son. I run, and now Mama alone.”
A knock interrupted them. It was the police answering Thomas’s earlier call. Nikolai panicked and tried to escape through a window, despite Sienna saying, “It’s okay, it’s the police. They’ll help us find your mom!”
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But the frightened boy bolted, eluding both Sienna and the police. The next day, she and Thomas took the initiative to search for Nikolai themselves. They distributed his photo around the neighborhood, encountering various reactions but no solid leads.
One of their curious neighbors, Nancy, recognized the ‘ghost’ from their anniversary photo. She joined the search, and others eventually did, too.
Finally, Sienna arrived at a neglected Victorian house and knocked. No response. She jumped at the sound of barking nearby. It was coming from behind a metal fence. “Wire wall,” she whispered, looking around, noting the chicory flowers as Nikolai’s words came to mind.
Investigating further, she found a boarded window and heard a woman’s plea for help from inside. She had her phone in her hand in a second to call the police. She then called Thomas. Soon, he arrived, and other neighbors gathered.
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The authorities got there and broke into the house, discovering Nikolai’s mother, who cried gratefully and explained her story. “I’m Asya. I came here with my boy to build new life. Marry man, but he… monster! He kept me prisoner,” she explained in broken English.
The search for Nikolai led to the basement, where he was found and quickly reunited with his mother. A police officer thanked Sienna for her role in the rescue. “Ma’am, thank you for alerting us to this situation. Your quick response helped these people.”
“What about the man who did this?’ Sienna asked, wrapping her arms around herself.
The officer reassured her, “We’ve already sent officers to arrest him at his job. Nikolai and Asya will be taken to a safe place. It seems she came here from Russia as some kind of mail-order bride. The legality of her immigrant status is unknown at this point, but we’ll ensure they get the help they need.”
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Nikolai saw them then and came over. He uttered, “Thank you. Mama and Nikolai safe now.” He went back to his mother, waving. They were then escorted by a kind social worker, who was taking them to a shelter.
After a while, Thomas and Sienna returned home. They sat back on the couch, sighing in disbelief that their picture led to all this. Thomas snapped his fingers as if he remembered something, and Sienna watched curiously, tilting her head as he reached for his briefcase.
“I believe the latest photo for the mantle deserves a special place,” he announced, holding up a framed print of the now-infamous photo the couple had posted on social media.
“It’s the best of the bunch,” Sienna quipped, and they both giggled.
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I arrived home to find my kids sleeping in the hallway — seeing what my husband had turned their bedroom into while I was gone drove me wild with angerPhoto of admin admin3 weeks ago0 616 7 minutes read
After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!
I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.
I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.
As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.
I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.
The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.
My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.
Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?
I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.
The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?
That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?
I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…
“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.
There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.
I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”
He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”
He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”
I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”
“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”
“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”
“But I’m in the middle of—”
“NOW, Mark!”
He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.
I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.
I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
The next morning, I put my plan into action.
While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”
I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.
“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.
“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”
After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”
I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”
Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.
I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.
His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”
The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.
“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”
He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”
To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”
The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”
He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.
“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”
The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.
“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”
Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”
She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”
I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”
Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”
Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”
As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.
“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”
I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”
He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”
As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.
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