The morning arrived, but it brought no relief to Clay's restless mind. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, his body felt weak, but he didn't care. His son was missing, and he wasn't going to sit still.
As soon as the sun rose, Clay left the house and made his way to the nearest police station. His steps were hurried, his heart pounding with every beat. Emily had wanted to come with him, but he told her to stay with Lily. She needed to be there in case—just in case—Ben somehow returned.
The police station was an old, worn-down building, buzzing with officers and distressed civilians filing their complaints. Clay didn't care about the others—he had only one mission. He rushed to the front desk, his voice urgent.
"My son is missing," he said, gripping the counter. "He was in our house last night, sleeping. But when my wife went to wake him, he was gone."
The officer behind the desk, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, looked up at him and sighed. "Calm down, sir. What's your name?"
"Clayton Walker," he said quickly. "But listen to me—someone took my son. This isn't a normal disappearance. I need you to do something right now."
The officer motioned for Clay to sit, but he refused. Every second felt like a lifetime. Another officer, a younger one with sharp eyes, took out a notepad and began asking questions.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"Last night. He was sleeping in his bed. My wife checked on him, and he was gone."
"Was there any sign of forced entry? A broken lock, an open window?"
"No," Clay said, shaking his head. "That's the problem. The doors were locked. The windows were shut. There was no way someone could have taken him without making a sound."
The officers exchanged glances. The older one leaned forward. "Did you have any disputes with anyone recently? Enemies? Someone who might want to harm you?"
Clay hesitated. His financial troubles had made him many enemies, but none he thought would go this far. "No one comes to mind," he said, though doubt flickered inside him.
After more questioning, the officers finally filled out a Missing Person Report and assured him that they would begin an investigation. But Clay wasn't satisfied. He knew that cases like these could take days, weeks—even months—to solve. He couldn't just wait.
As he stepped out of the police station, he took a deep breath. The city was alive with people rushing to work, vendors setting up stalls, life moving forward as if nothing had happened. But Clay's world had come to a halt. His son was missing, and nothing else mattered.
On his way back home, something caught his eye—a security camera mounted on a pole at the far end of his street.
His heart leaped.
If someone had taken Ben, the camera might have captured it.
Without a second thought, he ran towards the small shop below the camera. The owner, an elderly man with a wrinkled face, looked up in surprise as Clay barged in.
"Sir, I need your help," Clay said breathlessly. "The security camera outside—does it work?"
The man nodded slowly. "Yes, it's been working for a long time. Why?"
"My son is missing. I need to see the footage from last night."
The old man's expression turned serious. "Come inside," he said, leading Clay to a small backroom where a dusty monitor was connected to the camera feed.
Clay's fingers tapped impatiently as the man rewound the footage. Seconds turned into minutes as they scanned through the night's recording.
Finally, the footage reached the time when Ben had gone missing.
Clay leaned in, his breath catching in his throat. The screen showed the empty street, dimly lit by a flickering streetlight. Hours passed in the recording, but nothing happened. No one was seen entering or leaving his house.
No shadow. No movement. No stranger carrying his son away.
Clay's body went cold.
This didn't make sense. Someone had to come in. Someone had to take Ben. But the footage showed nothing. It was as if Ben had simply vanished into thin air.
Clay turned to the old man. "Is there a chance the camera stopped recording?"
The man shook his head. "No. It's been working fine."
Clay's mind swirled with fear. This wasn't normal. This wasn't just a kidnapping. Something deeper was at play.
As he left the shop, his legs felt weak. His eyes darted toward his house, filled with a sense of unease he couldn't explain.
Whoever had taken Ben… hadn't just walked in.
They had erased their presence completely.
And that terrified Clay more than anything.
Clay walked home in silence, his heart pounding with an unsettling fear that refused to fade. The fact that the security footage showed nothing—no one coming in or out, no shadows, no clues—made his son's disappearance feel more terrifying than ever. It didn't make sense. How could Ben just vanish?
As he reached the small rented house, he pushed open the creaky wooden door and stepped inside. Emily was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around Lily, who clung to her mother's waist. The second Emily saw Clay's face, she knew something was wrong.
She stood up immediately. "Did you find anything?" she asked, her voice filled with desperate hope.
Clay shut the door behind him and exhaled deeply. "I went to the police," he started, rubbing his temples. "They filed a missing person report, but you know how these things go. It could take time. Time we don't have."
Emily nodded quickly. "And the camera? You said there was a security camera in the street. Did you check the footage?"
Clay hesitated. He didn't know how to explain it without making it sound insane. But Emily was his wife—she needed to know everything.
"The camera was working perfectly fine," he said slowly. "It recorded everything… except for the moment Ben disappeared."
Emily's face paled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean there was nothing," Clay said, his voice shaking. "No one came to our house. No one broke in. No one left. The footage showed nothing. It's like… Ben just vanished into thin air."
Emily took a step back, covering her mouth with her hands. Her breathing became uneven, her whole body trembling. "Clay… this isn't normal," she whispered.
Lily, who had been silently listening, clung tighter to her mother. "Mommy, is Benny never coming back?" she asked, her voice quivering.
Emily blinked rapidly, her motherly instincts kicking in as she forced a shaky smile and stroked Lily's hair. "No, sweetheart… we'll find him. Don't worry."
But when she turned back to Clay, her eyes were filled with terror. "Clay… what if this isn't something human?"
Clay frowned. "What are you saying?"
Emily swallowed hard. "Think about it. An unknown person helped us when we had nothing. That person knew exactly what was going to happen in our lives. And now, our son is gone… without a trace. Not even caught on camera." She looked around the room, as if expecting someone to be watching them. "Clay… what if this unknown man is a ghost?"
Clay stared at her, his mind rejecting the thought. "That's impossible," he muttered.
Emily stepped closer. "Then explain it. Explain how a child disappears from a locked house with no one coming in or out!" Her voice was rising now, filled with panic.
Clay clenched his fists. He didn't believe in ghosts, in spirits, in things beyond reason. But this—this was different. This felt unnatural.
Emily grabbed his arm, her grip tight. "Clay… what if Ben is trapped somewhere beyond our reach?"
Clay looked into his wife's fearful eyes, and for the first time in his life, he had no answer.
Clay sat down on the worn-out chair in the dimly lit room, his hands trembling slightly as he rubbed his forehead. A strange feeling had begun to settle deep inside him—a fear he couldn't name, an unease that wrapped around his chest like invisible chains. He had faced hardships before, had been betrayed by his own family, had lost everything he worked for, but this… this was different.
Emily's words echoed in his mind.
"What if this unknown man is a ghost?"
It sounded absurd. He never believed in such things. But then, how could he explain what was happening? A person who seemed to know every little detail about their lives. A box of food and money arriving at the perfect moment. A missing child who had vanished without a single trace.
His fear wasn't just about losing Ben anymore. It was something deeper, something he couldn't put into words.
He felt like he was being watched.
Like something unseen had wrapped itself around his family, pulling them into a nightmare where nothing made sense.
Emily noticed the way he was lost in thought, the tension in his jaw, the distant look in his eyes. She gently touched his arm. "Clay… what are you thinking?"
Clay exhaled sharply and shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just feel… afraid."
Emily frowned. "Afraid of what?"
"That's the problem," Clay said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know."
It wasn't just fear of losing Ben. It wasn't just fear of the unknown man.
It was the terrifying realization that something much bigger was at play—something beyond his understanding.
And for the first time in his life, Clay didn't know how to fight it.
The weight of the unknown sat heavily on Clay's chest as the day dragged on. The fear within him deepened, twisting into something darker—something unexplainable. He tried to push it aside, tried to convince himself that it was just stress, just exhaustion, but the feeling wouldn't leave.
Emily barely spoke for the rest of the day, lost in her own thoughts. She sat beside Lily, holding her close, as if afraid that if she let go, Lily too would disappear. The house was unbearably silent, the air thick with tension. Even the ticking clock on the wall seemed slower, each second dragging into eternity.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, an eerie stillness took over. The night had arrived, and with it, a suffocating presence.
The wind outside howled through the cracks in the walls, making the old wooden doors creak as if something—or someone—was pressing against them. The candlelight flickered, casting strange, shifting figures on the walls.
Clay's eyes darted to the corners of the room. He felt it again—that unbearable sensation of being watched.
And then, just as he was about to say something to Emily—
THUD.
A loud noise came from inside the house.
Emily gasped, clutching Lily tighter. Clay shot up from his chair, his pulse hammering in his ears. The sound wasn't from outside. It wasn't the wind.
It came from Ben's empty room.
A chill ran down Clay's spine. His hands clenched into fists as he forced himself to step forward, toward the room where his son once slept. The door was slightly ajar, darkness spilling out like an endless void.
The floorboards creaked under his weight as he slowly reached for the handle, his heart threatening to break free from his chest.
And then—
Another thud.
This time, it was louder. Closer.
Something was inside.
Emily's voice trembled behind him. "Clay… don't go in there."
But Clay had no choice. He had to know. He had to face whatever was waiting for him.
As he pushed the door open wider, the cold air inside sent shivers down his spine. The room was completely dark. The only sound was the ragged breath escaping Clay's lips.
And then—
A shadow moved.
A tall, dark figure stood at the far end of the room, barely visible in the dim light.
Clay's breath hitched. His body froze.
The figure didn't move. It just stood there, watching.
And then—
The candle in the living room went out.
Darkness swallowed the house.
And the nightmare began.
Because a life is still loading.
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