Here's a story that actually gave me a chill. This is an occurrence that was described by the actual person that it happened to, NOT a re-telling of some rumor or legend.

This man was only five years old at the time when he had an encounter with an entity he calls the Crib Whisperer.

He lived in an "old, teal-colored house, with peeling paint and junk in the yard" in the heart of Cadillac, Michigan. He seemed to fear his family, claiming his grandmother had the mannerisms of a witch and suspected his father was a cult member. Sometimes, he and his brother would hide from their sinister grandmother in a big clothes box that was in their closet.

This boy would have nightmares almost every night; the one that recurred the most was about two young boys playing with blocks at the door that led to a basement. As they played, an unfamiliar figure crept up the stairs toward them. Just before it reached the boys, the dream would end. He couldn't tell if it was male or female.

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At night, he sought solace in his dark bedroom, only to continually be frightened by the black corners that contained more unseen fears. On those nights during fall and winter, when darkness came early, he was put to bed earlier. His parents strapped him into his bed with a safety harness and a green blanket to keep him company; he would sometimes notice the smell of an "old, flowery-smelling perfume" that seemed to originate from behind the closet door.

On one of those harness-strapped nights, he was in bed.
In the darkness.
The only light that came into the room was a thin shard.

As he lay there wide awake, afraid to go to sleep, a shuffling noise came from behind his closet door. After the shuffling calmed down, he distinctly heard a women's voice ask quietly, "little boy in the crib, what is your name?"

From that point, his story ended and this is all I have to pass along.

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