A shiver ran down my spine. I moved closer to the monitor. The images were clear: the little boy hadn’t appeared gradually, he hadn’t come from nowhere, he simply seemed to… exist. In one moment, the place was empty, in the next, the child was there. But the shadow… the shadow was not alone.
The shadow of a large hand stretched from the side, as if it were holding him protectively — or perhaps dominantly.
“Maybe it’s a camera error,” the agent murmured, but his voice trembled.
We looked at the cameras from other angles, but they all showed the same thing: the boy appeared without any visible companion. Just that strange shadow that seemed to accompany him for a fraction of a second. And then… it disappeared completely.
I called the police. While we waited, I took the boy into a secure office. I gave him water and wrapped his little feet in a thin blanket. He didn’t want to talk, but he kept murmuring from time to time:
“I want to go back to the movie… I want to go to the other daddy…”
The officers arrived in less than 10 minutes. They did a preliminary assessment and then called in a specialist for delicate cases. Beyond the calmness of the child, something in his gaze seemed torn from another world. There was no fear. There was… longing.
One of the officers, an older man, knelt in front of him and asked:
“What’s the name of the other daddy?”
The boy blinked twice and whispered:
“Daddy from the screen.”
“From the screen?”
“Yes. From the movie. He takes me inside. It’s not hot there and it doesn’t hurt.”
The entire room softened into silence. The security agent, who was standing in a corner, stepped away and whispered to me:
“Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this cold…”
We went outside. The air was hot, but my skin was prickling. A few days after the incident, the police called me. They hadn’t been able to identify the child. No birth record. No parent looking for him. No disappearance that matched.
And perhaps the most chilling of all, no biometric system recognized him. He didn’t appear in any database.
He was temporarily placed in a care center. But after two nights, the staff reported that the boy… had disappeared. Just like that. From a closed room, with no open windows, no forced doors.
But on the wall next to the bed, someone had written with a finger in the condensation:
“I went back to the movie.”
No one sleeps well in that center.
And me?
Every time I stop in a parking lot and see a small shadow, I shiver.
Because some stories have no explanations. Just memories that never let you rest.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
