Baby Refuses To Stop Crying, Father Realizes That Mother In Law Is To Blame

Another Person

He watched his mother-in-law carry her spice box into the kitchen. She had hundreds of tiny bottles with different plants and seeds.

His wife had cleaned out a cupboard for her to put all her things. She burned incense while she packed her spiritual trinkets away.

He wasn’t looking forward to her moving in, but they needed help with the baby. He didn’t know then what a huge impact his mother-in-law was going to have on their lives.

A Small Family

In the quaint suburb of Greenstone, San Francisco, nestled between rows of charming houses adorned with white picket fences, lived the Hambrick family.

Joe and Charity Hambrick were the epitome of a loving couple, and their three-year-old son, Noah, was the apple of their eyes.

They had been living in the house for just over a year now but they were still settling in. However, their picturesque life took a dark turn when Noah began exhibiting strange behavior.

Terrible Threes

His parents did everything to make him happy. He even had his own bedroom. Noah, once a bubbly and adventurous toddler, had become a shadow of himself.

Tears flowed freely from his big, brown eyes at the slightest provocation, his once hearty laughter now replaced by mournful sobs. It wasn’t normal.

At first, Joe and Charity attributed his behavior to a passing illness or the terrible twos, but as the days stretched into weeks, their concern deepened.

The New House Vibe

Joe and Charity Hambrick were bewildered by the sudden change in their 3-year-old. Joe thought that he was still used to their old place Uptown.

Charity disagreed, “He likes his room, but there’s something about this house,” she said. Previously a cheerful and resilient child, Noah now broke down at the slightest provocation.

They attributed it to a passing illness or a phase of toddlerhood. But as weeks passed, Noah’s distress became unbearable. They had no clue what was happening in their house every night.

The Baby Gets Upset

It started subtly, with Noah becoming unusually clingy, his bright eyes clouded with fear at the slightest provocation. Joe and Charity initially brushed it off as a phase, attributing it to Noah’s sensitive nature.

But as weeks passed, Noah’s distress escalated, and his once bubbly demeanor dissolved into tearful outbursts at the smallest of things.

Concern etched deep lines on Joe and Charity’s faces as they struggled to comprehend their son’s sudden change. They sought solace in each other’s arms, whispering worried conversations late into the night, confused with the uncertainty of Noah’s condition.

Noises In The Roof

Strange occurrences plagued their home. Noah emitted an inexplicable odor, a sickly-sweet scent that clung to him like a malevolent fog.

His clothes bore mysterious stains, hues of crimson and earthy brown that defied explanation. And always, always, it happened after spending time with Charity’s mother, Wendy.

Despite their best efforts to console him, Noah’s anguish persisted, leaving his parents feeling helpless and bewildered. What was Noah doing when he was with his grandmother?

All Over Him

One evening, as 40-year-old Charity tucked Noah into bed, she noticed a red smudge on his sleeve, prompting a surge of apprehension to flood her senses. “Noah, sweetheart, where did this come from?” she asked gently, her voice tinged with worry.

Noah’s lower lip trembled as he cast his gaze downward, his tiny frame shaking with suppressed sobs. “G-Grandma gave me a hug,” he whimpered, his words barely audible.

They were right about the peculiar occurrences whenever Noah spent time with Charity’s mother, Mrs. Wendy Waverly. His clothes bore mysterious stains of red and brown, and an unsettling odor clung to him like a shroud.

Since We Moved In

Charity’s heart clenched in her chest, a sense of unease tightening its grip around her. Hastily, she made her way to Joe, her footsteps heavy with trepidation. “Joe, something’s not right,” she murmured, her voice quivering with anxiety.

42-year-old Joe’s brow furrowed in concern as he took in Charity’s distressed expression. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s Noah,” Charity replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something going on with him, and I think it’s connected to my mother.”

A Sick Child At Home

Noah, once a cheerful and vibrant child, had become increasingly fragile. He would break down at the slightest provocation, his tears flowing like rivers of sorrow.

65-year-old Wendy was always ready to help her grandson. She would run to his side if there was even a sniffle.

At first, parents Joe and Charity attributed it to a passing phase or perhaps a bout of illness. However, as the days stretched into weeks, their concern deepened.

What’s That Smell

Strange occurrences began to plague their home. Noah emitted an odd scent, one that lingered long after he had left a room.

His clothes bore mysterious stains, hues of red and brown that defied explanation. It seemed these anomalies always followed Noah’s interactions with Charity’s mother, Wendy.

Strange occurrences accompanied Noah’s anguish. He emitted an unusual odor, and his clothes bore mysterious stains of red and brown. These incidents consistently followed his interactions with Charity’s mother, Wendy, who had moved in to assist with the baby.

Mom Moves In

Wendy had recently moved in to assist with the care of young Noah, offering her expertise in herbal remedies and natural healing.

She claimed to be a witch, boasting knowledge passed down through generations. Charity, having grown up under Wendy’s care, embraced her mother’s unconventional methods without hesitation.

But Joe, ever the skeptic, found himself unsettled by Wendy’s presence and her pungent incense. He didn’t realize that he was making a mistake by interfering in his mother in laws rituals.

Can We Trust Witches

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows danced along the walls, Joe broached the topic with Charity. “Do you ever wonder if maybe Wendy’s remedies aren’t… well, working?” he asked tentatively, his brow furrowed with worry.

Charity paused; her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I know it seems strange, but she’s helped me through so much. I can’t imagine she’d do anything to harm Noah.”

“But what if she’s unintentionally causing harm?” Joe persisted; his voice tinged with unease. “We don’t even know what’s in those concoctions she’s feeding him.”

Noah Gets A Fright

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden wail from Noah’s room. The parents gave each other a serious look. It was happening again.

Rushing to his side, they found him curled into a ball, tears streaming down his cheeks. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Charity cooed, her heart aching with concern.

Noah sniffled, his tiny hands clutching his stuffed bear tightly. “Scary lady,” he whispered, his words barely audible. The baby pointed towards the corner of the room.

Herbal Home Haze

Wendy stood there, with her piercing gaze and whispered incantations. She had taken up residence in their home under the guise of helping with the baby.

She walked closer to them wearing a dark, raggedy looking shawl. No wonder Noah was scared. But Joe couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something… off about her.

She claimed to be a witch, boasting of ancient knowledge passed down through generations. Her remedies were steeped in folklore, potions brewed from herbs plucked under the light of the full moon.

Too Much Smoke

When Wendy approached her grandson, he suddenly started smiling at her and stopped crying. She took him out of Charity’s arms and walked around the room with him.

“We have to do something,” Charity whispered to Joe, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. “Noah’s suffering, and I don’t know how much more he can take.”

Joe nodded grimly; his brow furrowed with worry. “We’ll confront her soon,” he vowed, determination hardening his resolve. They put Noah to bed and went back to sleep.

A Natural Relaxer

The next morning Wendy, claiming to possess knowledge of herbal remedies as a self-proclaimed witch, took charge of Noah’s care. “I made a cinnamon herbal tea for him,” she said.

She performed esoteric rituals, cleansing his room with sage and administering peculiar natural concoctions. “Make sure you cleanse at least once a day with sage Charity, I taught you this when you were a child,” she fussed.

The tired mother lit a scented candle in the house. Charity and Joe, desperate for relief for their son, reluctantly acquiesced to Wendy’s unconventional methods.

Time For Cleansing

That night, as the clock struck midnight, casting the house in an eerie half-light, Joe and Charity crept through the silent halls, their hearts pounding in unison.

They found Wendy in Noah’s room; her silhouette outlined against the moonlit window as she murmured ancient incantations over their sleeping son.

Charity ran in to see her son burning with fever. “What are you doing to him?” Charity demanded, her voice quivering with rage and fear.

Trust The Good Witch

Wendy turned to face them; her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. “I’m only trying to help,” she crooned, her voice dripping with honeyed malice.

She continued to turn a camphor lamp around Noah’s crib. “Noah is special, you see. Gifted with a power beyond your understanding.”

Joe’s blood ran cold as he beheld the wicked smile twisting his mother-in-law’s lips. “What kind of power?” he demanded; his fists clenched at his sides. He opened the window so the smoke could go out.

Part Of The Ritual

The old woman scolded her son in law for opening the window, “Let the smoke seep in for a while,” she said.

Joe was confused but he listened to her. He motioned to his wife to get her mother out of the baby’s bedroom.

Wendy’s laughter echoed through the room, a chilling symphony of madness. “The power of the old magic,” she whispered, her voice like the rustle of dry leaves on a winter’s night. “But it comes at a price, dear ones. A price you may not be willing to pay.”

It’s Still In Him

Little Noah lay whimpering in his crib. His forehead was hot from the fever. “Just give it time, let the fever break,” Wendy assured him.

A scared Joe wiped him with a damp face cloth. “He’s burning up, we need to take him to the ER soon,” he looked in Charity’s eyes.

Charity gasped as realization dawned upon her. “You’ve been using him,” she accused, her voice trembling with fury. “Draining his energy for your own twisted purposes.”

Power Of Prayer

In the dead of midnight, he caught Wendy in the midst of an enigmatic ceremony, Noah’s piercing cries piercing through the air. “It’s not what it looks like,” Wendy defended herself.

That fateful night, Joe tried to control a chilling scene. Noah was in and out of consciousness, “Water,” he said with his small voice.

Joe’s heart pounded as he watched his mother-in-law brandish sage frantically, a fervent expression on her face. Charity held his hand as they waited for Wendy to finish her prayer.

Noah Lets Loose

Just then, Noah’s cries crescendo, reaching a fever pitch. Tears flowed down his cheeks. His body was hot from the fever.

His face was going red from screaming and Charity couldn’t stop him from crying. “Mamas here Noah, Its Okay,” she tried to bottle feed him some Chamomile tea,

And then, in a moment of eerie silence, the child expelled something into his nappy. It glistened under the dim moonlight. Joe’s breath caught in his throat as he smelled the strange odor.

Something Came Out

Joe was on the brink of rushing Noah to the ER when he stumbled upon Wendy in the midst of one of her midnight rituals. Somehow, she seemed to know what she was doing.

Sage smoke filled the room as Noah wailed inconsolably. But after he passed, he stopped crying.

Baby Noah seemed relieved after passing some gas, and something in his nappy. Charity laid him down to change his diaper. She had no idea what she was going to find.

In His Stool

As Charity undid Noah’s diaper, a foul stench filled the bedroom. It smelled like Sulphur or eggs, or something dying.

The couple had to cover the noses, but Wendy just laughed at the work she had done. She ran over to open the window and let the smell out.

In a moment of surreal horror, Noah passed up something small and black, slimy and hard. Joe and Charity were frozen in shock, unable to comprehend what they were witnessing.

A Deep Cleanse

Joe poked at it with a pencil, it was like a glob of black dirt. “Was this stuck inside of him? he asked, while taking photos.

But Wendy was still busy cleansing the baby with coconut oil. “What… What is that?” Charity’s voice trembled with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Wendy’s eyes gleamed with an unsettling sense of triumph. “It’s a manifestation of the darkness that was affecting him,” she declared, her tone carrying an otherworldly certainty. “But fear not, for I have cleansed him of it.” She didn’t know that she was so wrong.

Not Of This World

Joe’s mind raced, struggling with the incomprehensible events unfolding before him. “How… how did you know?” he stammered, his voice barely audible over the echoes of Noah’s fading cries.

The old lady picked up Noah’s dirty diaper and threw it in a black trash bag. “What… what is that?” Charity’s voice trembled with fear as she reached for Noah.

Wendy tried to console her daughter, “We will have to burn this bag, there must be nothing left behind,” she said, throwing the bag into the bin. Whatever it was, it was out of Noah now.

The Darkness Is Gone

Wendy’s eyes gleamed with an eerie confidence as she approached them, “It’s a sign of the darkness that’s been plaguing him. But don’t worry, I have cleansed him.”

Joe exchanged a bewildered glance with Charity, his heart pounding in his chest. “How did this happen? What’s going on?”

Wendy’s lips curled into a cryptic smile. “There are forces at play beyond your understanding, dear son-in-law,” she replied cryptically. “But rest assured, your son is safe now.”

Mother-In-Law Knows

Wendy’s tone was calm, almost unsettlingly so, “There are forces beyond our understanding at play here. But I’ve been using my knowledge to protect Noah. He’s safe now.”

As Charity cradled Noah, Joe couldn’t shake the feeling of unease settling over him. “But what was that thing? How did you know what to do?” Wendy just tapped him on the back.

Charity cradled Noah in her arms, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. “Thank you, Mom,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Call Me Next Time

Joe was confused and Wendy tried to explain to him that they should have done a full cleansing on the house before moving in. “It’s people’s energy Joe,” she explained.

Wendy’s lips curled into a knowing smile, “Some things are better left unanswered, dear. Trust in my guidance, and your son will be spared from whatever darkness seeks to harm him.”

Joe wanted to protest, to demand answers, but the sight of Noah finally resting peacefully in Charity’s arms silenced his doubts, if only for the moment.

A Living House

As Wendy resumed her ritualistic cleansing, Joe couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over him. Was there something supernatural living in their house?

What other secrets lay hidden within the walls of their home? And what price had they unwittingly paid for their son’s salvation?

As dawn broke, casting long shadows across the room, Joe vowed to uncover the truth, no matter the cost. For in the depths of darkness, he sensed a malevolent presence lurking, waiting to strike his family again. And this time, he would be ready.