Imposter

Someone is checking on his newborn son, but his wife is still asleep next to him.

‼️(Spoilers) CW: Blood, death, gunshot wound, paranormal‼️

I awoke to the sound of a baby crying next to me. I glance at the baby monitor rested on the side table. It crackled with the voice of my wife comforting our newborn son. As I adjusted myself to a new position on the bed, I catch sight of my wife still sound asleep next to me.

My body shook with terror. If that was my wife next to me, who’s with our son? The voice was too distorted to make out in full. But it sounded like a female, a middle-aged female at that. I gave my wife a soft kiss on the cheek, her cold skin against my lips, being careful not to stir her awake. She was snoring much louder than usual that night but she was recovering from a minor cold at the time. I thought nothing of it.

I leaped from the bed and ambled to the kitchen to check the doors and windows. It was pitch black, but I didn't dare turn on the light. No forced entry. My fear devolved into confusion. Someone was in our house but had somehow gotten in without disturbance.

My heart ordered me to go back to bed and leave this behind me. It all could have been my imagination. I do have quite a wild one. Yet my mind was too fixed on figuring this out. I had no choice but to check on our son. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself. I took one moment to peek inside our bedroom, just to make sure I hadn't alerted my wife. She was sleeping so soundly, face pointed to the wall. Nearly all the blankets covered her still body, an oddity. But also not too strange with the freezing temperatures that night.

I tiptoed past my snoring wife to the door of the nursery. Of course, it was wide open. I swallowed a lump in my throat and entered. Even in the dark, I could make out a silhouette. There was the individual, kissing my son’s forehead and turning to the door. I switch on the light, stopping her in her tracks. That's when my blood went cold.

"Wait, Charlotte?" I asked my wife. "If you're here, then...who was in bed with me?"

I saw Charlotte's skin turn white as a sheet and her pupils grew small. She said nothing and bolted past me, clearly heading to our bedroom. I had never seen her so frightened before. She was usually the calm and collected person in the household. I sprinted after her in the darkness of the hallway. She stopped mere inches from the door, probably contemplating whether to enter and face the horror. I was too, fear mercilessly taunting me. I guess she finally took the chance and stepped into the room. Me right on her heels.

Blinding light engulfed the room with a flick of the light switch. There it was. The figure who had been in our bed. It was standing in front of the large mirror against the wall. Motionless. Terror stole my words. Then, it turned its head in our direction. A near-identical copy of my wife. Only her gray, normally icy blue eyes threw her appearance off. Charlotte muttered something under her breath, though I couldn't catch what she had said.

A gown, one that resembled one found in a hospital, hugged her slender form. The baby blue fabric was a bright contrast against her unnaturally pale skin. The figure wore a deep red bullet wound on her forehead, one that still looked fresh. It dripped of crimson that stained her face and gown. She stared at us for a few seconds before she completely disappeared out of sight. Charlotte walked silently into our bedroom, seemingly distraught. She stood in front of the mirror, right where the figure was standing. I crept further into the room just enough to hear her, once again, muttering something. This time, much clearer.

"Sister...”