Evelyn staggered backward, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
Her mind screamed at her to run, to look away, to pretend she had never seen the thing lying in the crib.
But it was too late.
She had remembered.
And now—it knew.
The Thing in the Crib
It wasn't a child.
It had never been a child.
But its shape—its presence—clawed at something buried deep in Evelyn's past, something she had locked away.
Its body was small, but wrong—its limbs too long, its skin stretched too tight over protruding bones. The stitches that had sealed its mouth shut were ancient, blackened with age.
But the worst part—the part that made her stomach twist and her knees buckle—was its eyes.
Not hollow like the others.
But wide open.
And watching her.
Knowing her.
The whispers turned to a hum, a vibration that pressed against the inside of her skull.
And then—
It moved.
The Forgotten Pact
Evelyn tried to scream, but the sound lodged in her throat.
The thing in the crib rose, not in a natural way, but like it was being lifted by unseen hands.
Her body went rigid.
The cavern around her began to twist, distort, shift. The figures in the darkness froze, their eyeless faces all turned toward her.
They were waiting.
Waiting for her to do something.
No—say something.
The whispers swelled, pushing against her skull.
"Say it."
"Say the name."
Her breath came in ragged gasps. She didn't want to. She couldn't.
Because the moment she spoke it aloud—everything would change.
But the shadows closed in, suffocating her.
The ground lurched beneath her feet.
The thing in the crib reached for her.
And against her will, her lips parted.
She whispered the name.
And the world split apart.
The Collapse
A scream tore through the air—not hers, but something else, something ancient and enraged.
The cavern shuddered violently, cracks splitting through the walls, through the ground, through reality itself.
The figures vanished, melting into the darkness.
The crib splintered, swallowed by the shifting stone.
And the thing inside it—
Smiled.
Evelyn felt the world tilt, the weight of the whispers crashing down on her.
She had said the name.
She had set it free.
And now—
It was coming for her.
The Name That Binds
Evelyn's body seized, her chest tightening as the cavern collapsed around her.
She had spoken the name.
And now—it was awake.
The thing in the crib had never truly been sleeping. It had been waiting, bound by the silence of its own name. But now that it had been spoken…
The world around her was unraveling.
The whispers became screams, their voices clawing at her mind, their words twisting together into something she couldn't understand—yet felt, deep inside, was meant for her.
She pressed her hands to her ears, but it did nothing to block out the noise.
"Evelyn."
The voice wasn't from the whispers.
It was from the thing in the crib.
And this time, it was not whispering.
It was laughing.
The Crib Unleashed
The thing rose from the crib, its movements unnatural, like it was being lifted by invisible strings. Its mouth—once stitched shut—was now stretching wide, the stitches splitting one by one.
The cavern shuddered.
The air thickened.
Evelyn stumbled backward, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
This was wrong.
This was impossible.
Her mind screamed at her to move, to run, to find a way out.
But something held her in place.
Not a physical force.
Something older.
Something inside her.
She knew this place.
She had been here before.
She had done this before.
And she had failed.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
This wasn't the first time she had spoken the name.
This wasn't the first time she had let it out.
The Fractured Memory
A memory surged forward, breaking through the cracks in her mind.
She was small.
A child.
Standing in this same cavern, staring at the crib.
Her mother's voice, trembling as she whispered:
"Don't listen to them. Don't let them in. Never say the name."
But she had.
She had spoken it before.
And her mother—
Had paid the price.
Evelyn's stomach twisted.
This wasn't just a memory.
This was a cycle.
A curse.
And she was doomed to repeat it.
The Figures Return
A gust of wind rushed through the cavern, snuffing out the last traces of light.
Darkness swallowed everything—except for the thing that had been in the crib.
Its hollow gaze bore into her, its mouth now completely unstitched.
It opened its lips—but no sound came out.
Instead, the figures returned.
The ones she had seen before—the twisted, stretched-out shapes, their eyeless faces turned toward her.
But now, they were closer.
Reaching for her.
Evelyn's breath came in sharp gasps.
She couldn't let this happen.
Not again.
Not again.
Her mother had tried to stop it—tried to protect her—but she had been too late.
And now, it was Evelyn's turn.
Would she do the same?
Would she fail?
The whispers turned into a roar, and the thing in the crib lunged for her.
Evelyn had one second to decide.
Fight—
Or be consumed.