Short Horror Stories

Hush Little Baby

The wind howled outside the window, rain pelting against the panes in an uneven rhythm. Helena Black sat in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the silence that settled like a thick shroud. The walls bore memories of pain; a discarded teddy bear, a half-finished baby blanket, the pale blue wallpaper peeling at the edges.

She softly hummed, "Hush, little baby, don't say a word..." Her voice was strained and hollow, carrying a weight of unbearable grief. The pain of her miscarriage had not waned; instead, it intensified each day, mingling with the bitterness of her husband, David's, infidelity.

Footsteps echoed behind the door. Helena turned to see David slinking into the room, trying to avoid her gaze. His shirts bore red lipstick smears and the faint scent of another woman. He would come and go, lost in his own world, leaving Helena to her mourning.

But recently, strange things started to happen. Every night, as Helena would cry herself to sleep, she'd hear the soft, almost indistinguishable cry of a baby. Some nights, a tiny handprint would appear on the misted windows, and the mobile that hung dormant for so long would suddenly spin on its own.

Helena was convinced it was her unborn child, trying to communicate. David dismissed it, attributing it to her grieving mind playing tricks. But every night, the wailing grew louder, echoing the same lullaby Helena sang, "Hush, little baby..."

One evening, as Helena lay in bed, a cold breeze passed over her. In the corner of the room stood a shadowy figure, swaying back and forth, holding what seemed to be a tiny bundle. The figure moved closer, revealing a face contorted in sorrow, mirroring Helena's own grief. "Give me what's mine," it whispered, reaching out a hand towards Helena.

Terrified, Helena screamed, waking David. As he entered, the room plunged into darkness. When the lights came back, Helena was gone, leaving only the echoing strains of the lullaby, "Hush, little baby, don't say a word..."

Weeks turned into months. David's guilt consumed him. He'd hear Helena's voice singing from the shadows, her haunting lullaby echoing through the empty halls. And at night, as he'd lay in the silence, he'd feel a cold grip, tiny fingers curling around his own.

David soon met the same fate as Helena, disappearing into the shadows of the house. Locals say that on quiet nights, you can still hear the soft lullaby emanating from the house. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word..." And if you listen closely, you can hear the faint cry of a child and a mother forever grieving.