Latest / Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von / Hoy Pago Las Consecuencias Por Mi Curiosidad En Una Morgue ( Recopilación De Morgues #1 )

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Hoy Pago Las Consecuencias Por Mi Curiosidad En Una Morgue ( Recopilación De Morgues #1 ) · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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Family. You can also find the content in Spotify, Amazon Music and Paul
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Podcast. I' ll leave the links in the description and in the comments.
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We just started. My name is Alberto and what I come to tell
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you next is an event that made my life change forever. Since I was
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young. I was a skeptical person. It could even be said that something
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disrespectful about paranormal issues. My friends and acquaintances used to express how horrified they
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would feel if they had my work at the morgue. But for me,
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working in that place was any other job. I had had that job since
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I was eighteen and until that time it was the perfect job for me.
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However, he was twenty- six years old when everything changed. My work
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consisted of the usual covers of a morgue, receiving bodies, performing autopsies,
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documenting findings and preparing them for delivery to their loved ones. Like I said,
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it was a quiet job, as long as it didn' t bother
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you to work with corpses. That day, a new body came to the
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morgue victim of a horrible fateful accident by two Pitbull dogs. His face was
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unrecognizable, with no nose or lower lip. Despite the crudeness of the corpse
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that was not the most striking thing, but it had the body completely full
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of tattoos related to Satanism. To my colleagues in turn, that made them
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very nervous, which is why I proposed to do the job. On my
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own, trying to feel braver than all of them. My colleagues accepted and
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once they left me I just stared at the body for a while before starting
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the process. I don' t remember exactly what step I was taking.
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When something caught my attention. A slight complaint barely saudible resonated in the room.
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I turned my head to the sides looking for the sound source, but
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I only found the room empty. I decided to ignore the sound and continue
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my tasks, but the whining persisted. But this time I noticed that the
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blanket that covered the body had fallen to the ground. Intrigued I approached to
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cover the body again, but while I was doing so, I saw something
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that left me breathless. The body' s eyes opened and stared directly at
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me. The horror swept me from head to toe and an involuntary scream escaped
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from my lips. One of my companions, alerted by my cry, ran
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into the room, but when the corpse arrived, lay again with his eyes
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closed, as if nothing had happened, I tried to explain that I thought
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I had seen a rat, an absurd excuse that I did not believe.
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However, and for my fortune, my partner did not try to inquire much
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about it. The following days passed with apparent normality. I tried to forget
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the incident, convincing myself that it had been the product of my imagination.
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I also thought about my long shift and had even spent hours on Internet forums
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investigating all kinds of things that a postmortem body could do. That was my
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way of dealing with that strange event. It wasn' t long before the
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routine broke again. Again, while performing the autopsy on a body, I
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heard the same complaint. My heart accelerated, but this time I resisted the
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temptation to turn my head and chose to continue my work, ignoring the feeling
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that something was watching me. That decision seemed to be yielding results. However,
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in an instant I could hear someone or something screaming straight into my ear.
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That made me even fall off the chair and being on the floor,
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I realized that I was completely alone. I remember one particular night, while
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I was alone, the room temperature dropped sharply even I could see my breath
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in the air. I felt as if I was being watched from all directions
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trying to calm down I closed my eyes and started counting from one to ten
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when I opened them all the drawers of love that were open. The bodies
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rested on their trays, but they all had their heads turned in my direction,
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their lifeless eyes looked at me with a disconcerting intensity. I wanted to
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run to the exit, but the door was locked. Then a chilling laugh
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resounded in the room and the lights blinked before shutting out completely in the dark,
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could watch shadows move and laughter began to become more intense and r r
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r The figures of the bodies rose from the tables. They surrounded me slowly
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advancing as the laughter intensified. Desperate I screamed for help, but my voice
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was lost in the room, plunged into darkness and surrounded by laughter and whispers.
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Suddenly I felt a pressure on my shoulder as if someone hadn' t
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taken it with a firm grip. My heart beat hard and my survival instinct
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took desperate control. I tried to pull the hand that held me away,
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but my hands found only the cold, dense air. Suddenly. Among all
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that noise, I heard a voice, it was the voice of one of
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my co- workers, begging me to calm down. My words barely escaped
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my lips. While trying to explain what happened. The fear experienced hardly allowed
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me to articulate coherent phrases. That' s when I noticed the lights were
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back, the room was lit and the temperature was back to normal. I
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looked around still trembling from experience and realized that everything seemed normal. The drawers
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were closed and the bodies rested on their trays and there was no trace of
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what had just happened. It was as if I had never witnessed the nightmare
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I had just lived in. My companions looked at me with concern and skepticism,
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unable to understand the madness I had just experienced. While trying to find
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answers, my colleagues persuaded me to go home and rest that night. In
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the solitude of my home, I could not turn away from my mind the
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horror I had experienced in the morgue. Everything happened. It made me think
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maybe I was going crazy. I went over every detail of what happened trying
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to find some logic in the nightmare I had lived through. That' s
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when I remembered the man with his face disfigured and tattooed or satanic that corpse
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I had seen open his eyes. I found it absurd to blame a corpse,
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but I couldn' t find any other factor either, because I refused
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to think that I was really going crazy. The days passed between confusion and
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fear, which took over my life. After that event in the morgue I
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tried to lead my life as normal as possible and although I always felt watched
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there were some nights that were accompanied by nightmares. After a few nights,
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extraordinary events seemed to have stopped. Things took a restless abnormality. With the
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passing of days, I tried to resume my routine, focus on work and
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drown my thoughts in daily routine. In spite of everything, I became cautious
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and avoided being alone as much as possible, but like all attempts to control
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my environment. This measure turned out to be temporary. That day, in
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particular, had been exhausting. The work accumulated until the end of the day
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and I was on the verge of exhaustion when fatigue weighed on me. I
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had avoided being alone at all costs, but at that time I had no
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choice, as the others had retired or started doing their work leaving me alone.
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So I tried to keep my mind occupied with day- to- day
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chores and paperwork, no matter what I did. The tension in the air
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was overwhelming. As I plunged into the monotony of documentation, I began to
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feel the familiar feeling of being observed again a chill swept through my whole body,
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but I tried to ignore it by attributing it to my own paranoia.
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That' s when I heard a sound more than the usual whispers. This
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was a slight tinkling of metal hitting the ground. I tried to rule it
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out as a product of my tiredness, but she did. The persistence of
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sound forced me to pay careful attention. I turned my head toward the direction
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of the noise. To my horror, behind me was one of the corpses.
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He had been involved in a motorcycle accident and his face was visibly scraped
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and disfigured. The blanket that covered it was lying on the floor. His
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lifeless eyes looked at me with malice and a diabolical smile formed on his torn
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lips. A chill swept through my paralyzed body My mind struggled to understand what
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I saw, while my heart was pounding in my chest. Then the corpse
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began to laugh a dreadful laugh that resonated in the morgue. My legs were
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shaking as I tried to retreat, but I felt trapped in a disturbing dream
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and the laughter of the corpse intensified, filling the room with a tense atmosphere.
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In an act of despair, I closed my eyes tightly, begging that
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this time nightmare would come to an end. When I finally gathered the courage
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to open my eyes. The room was quiet. The body had returned to
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its place and the love that seemed to be back in its apparent normality.
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The following nights were worse than ever. The laughter of the corpse mingled with
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the nightmares that attacked me in the dark, despite the intensity of the fear
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of making a fool of myself. I shared my experience with some of my
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companions, but their faces reflected disbelief and concern. The morgue for them remained
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only a place of work without shadows and without unwanted presences. Every day that
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passed I felt my sanity slowly torn apart. The line between reality and fantasy
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disappeared more and more. My nights turned into a succession of torments. Sometimes
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I was in the morgue surrounded by laughter and whispers and others. I could
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see some bodies turning the head house so I could see myself when I pretended
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not to look. I found myself in a spiral of despair and the only
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way to find something like peace was through sleeping pills. However, even these
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were just a temporary truce. That night, after taking the pills, I
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sank into a deep sleep. But unlike the previous nights, this time the
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nightmare that enveloped me was much worse. I was in the morgue, but
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this time I had no control over my actions. I was walking towards the
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autopsy table automatically, as if something were leading me to it on the table
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lying one of the bodies covered by the blanket and unable to avoid it,
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I removed the blanket and found myself face to face with the man who had
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started my nightmare. His empty eyes looked at me and, despite his shattered
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lips, he seemed to try to smile further worsening his wounds in the process.
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Suddenly, the nightmare took an even more terrifying turn. The man stood
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up, stretched out a bloody hand to me with a penetrating laugh. He
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took me by the arm with a supernatural force. Although I knew I was
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dreaming the feeling of his grip oppressed me and I could not wake up from
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that surreal nightmare. The laughter continued to resonate in my ears as the man
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dragged me through the morgue the bodies of my companions became inert, His eyes
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were open, watching me with an expression of absolute terror and some of them
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seemed to try to speak to me, but from their lips they were only
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understood to babble. I finally managed to wake up with a shock in my
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room. He was silent alone, but the feeling of oppression remained in the
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air. I was fed up with all that exhausted, both physically and emotionally,
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I knew I needed to find answers, although I had no idea where
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to start. I got up and headed to the kitchen looking for some water
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to calm my nerves. At a slow pace, I tried to calm my
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agitated breath. The fear was still clinging to me, as if the shadows
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of the nightmare were still lurking. In reality. When I got to the
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kitchen, I filled a glass with water and took it to my lips.
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However, looking at the reflection on the glass of the kitchen door, surprise
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and horror took over me. In the reflection was a man with a disfigured
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face, with a look of horror and a demonic smile. He seemed to
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be watching me with the same terrifying intensity as in the nightmare. I released
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the glass with water, which crashed into the ground, generating a rumble in
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the room. I turned quickly, but there was no one behind me,
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because the kitchen was empty. The feeling of being observed ba didn' t
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open up to me was leaving as if that man with a disfigured face continued
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to stalk me. Only I couldn' t see him more terrified. I
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went back to my room and locked the door. My hands were shaking as
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I tried to process what had just happened. Those things now were not only
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in my nightmares and in the morgue. Now they were in my home.
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One afternoon, the morgue received a tragic report of a car accident involving a
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couple of children. Their bodies reached the morgue and the news of their death
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filled the atmosphere. With regret though my heart shrunk in the face of the
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tragedy, duty demanded that I carry out my work with professionalism, so,
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trying to put my fears and thoughts aside, I set out to do my
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job. I started the job with the professionalism it required. But the heaviness
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of the environment and the sadness emanating from the small bodies seemed to infiltrate my
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soul. While performing the procedures, I could not help but feel that I
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was not alone in the room. The sense of being observed intensified and a
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presence filled the room. I closed my eyes for a moment trying to push
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away all those thoughts, but when I opened them I found a vision that
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would drive anyone crazy. The bodies of the children were standing by the autopsy
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table, looking at me with eyes that reflected sadness and bewilderment. My legs
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were shaking and a cold sensation swept through my spine. I tried to talk,
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but the words got stuck in my throat. Then one of the children
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reached out to me as if seeking comfort. Despite the internal struggle between horror
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and compassion, I couldn' t help but turn back. Overtaken by the
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overwhelming supernatural presence, the temperature of the wax room abruptly and a demonic laughter
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added to the whispers. As I watched impotently the bodies of the children faded
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into darkness. Distressed by the supernatural experiences that had marked my life in the
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morgue, I decided to take a radical step and give up my work.
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The morgue had already taken too much from me and the hope of finding peace
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seemed to drift away with every passing day. However, I discovered that the
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nightmare that was being pursued did not stop with the resignation the nights continued to
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be tormented by disturbing dreams. The bodies of the deceased manifested themselves in my
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dreams preventing me from finding a good rest. Sleep pills were no longer an
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option, as if I took them I ran the risk that the nightmare would
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catch me even when I wanted to wake up awake. Things weren' t
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much better. The figures of the deceased materialized in the darkest corners of my
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home, as well as in the reflections. I no longer needed to be
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in the morgue to feel his presence. They seemed to have taken root in
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my life in a permanent way. Desperate to free myself from that torment,
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I decided to move believing that a change of environment would be the solution to
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all my problems. At first that seemed to work. The nights became quieter
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and the feeling of being observed decreased. And what was more surprising to me
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was that nightmares were becoming less and less recurrent. However, it was not
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long before those beings found their way to my new home. The moving cycle
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became a routine which, despite believing that it would be a unique event,
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every time I tried to settle in a new place, the bodies of the
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beyond emerged from the shadows to remind me that there was no escape. The
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reason behind this persecution was an enigma. I did not know why those spirits
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were clinging to me, but their unwanted presence became a burden that I carried
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in my life every move was followed by a brief calm, which sooner or
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later returned to chaotic normality. The lack of stability began to affect all aspects
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of my existence. Interpersonal relationships became ephemeral, as proximity to others only attracted
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the presence of the deceased. The daily routine became a constant challenge as it
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dealt with the persistent images of bodies in the least expected places. Over the
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years, I have become an involuntary nomad, like a hermit, unable to
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find a permanent refuge. Every new city, every new home is just a
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brief respite before the nightmare is revived alive with the uncertainty of not knowing if
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one day they will cease and the reason why I was chosen as their prey
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remains an unsolved mystery. Today I continue my search for answers as I drag
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my existence. The death that and its secrets left an indelible mark in my
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life and although I have tried to escape the presence of disfigured bodies, it
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persists remembering that no matter how hard I try. Life as I once knew
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it, will never be the same again. The house I grew up in.
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He was always wrapped in a dark and mysterious air. My childhood was
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marked by the peculiarity of living with my father, a man whose life revolved
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around a funeral home he had installed in our own home, so since I
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remembered, I was immersed in the closeness with death a company that became increasingly
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disturbing. As the years passed, my father, the owner and operator of
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the funeral home. For obvious reasons, I forbade myself to enter the room,
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where the bodies waited to be arranged and, in this way, to
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be able to give them the last farewell. Despite his strict warnings, my
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childish curiosity led me to defy his authority. From time to time, I
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even came to charge some neighborhood children who, intrigued and challenged by the morbidness
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of that place, paid to see their insides out of those transactions. My
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interactions with the other children were scarce and my ability to socialize was affected by
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the frightening atmosphere that permeated my home. At the age of ten, I
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was more comfortable with corpses than with children my age. One day, while
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I was coloring in the living room, I heard my father talking to someone
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quietly. The distance prevented me from fully understanding the conversation, but my father
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' s serious tone indicated that a new body had arrived. My father said
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goodbye to the visitor and informed me that I should leave for a moment.
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Leaving me alone in the house, barely crossed the door. Curiosity took over
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me. I knew I should stay in the room, but the temptation to
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see that new corpse was too strong, so, opening the door with stealth
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I entered the room. The atmosphere in the room that day was different.
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A chill swept through my body as I approached the table, where the newly
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arrived body rested, even though it was covered by a sheet. The feeling
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in the room made me want to leave, but ignoring those fears, I
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raised the cloth with caution and found the pale figure of old Matilde, a
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neighbor who lived at the end of our street. Neighborhood kids considered her a
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witch. They claimed it was transformed into owl to fly through the dark skies.
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To tell you the truth, I never believed in those stories. My
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father had always been in charge of teaching me that things like witchcraft or spirits
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were things that people with nothing better to do, invented to hang out or
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scare others. I was thinking about that while I was looking at the old
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lady, who was lying on the table with a cadaveric look. My eyes
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met theirs, which were still open. A chill swept through my body and
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before I could react, his hands clung tightly to my arm, nailing his
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nails like sharp claws. I desperately forced myself to free myself from his grip
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by falling to the ground with a thunderous blow. My breath accelerated and tears
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threatened to overflow. But the worst was yet to come. The old woman
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' s body moved rigidly, falling from the table in a strange position.
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The sheet was slowly removed, revealing a grotesque appearance and a posture similar to
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that of a human spider. Creepy grunts filled the room. As the old
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woman, now transformed into a hideous creature, approached me on all fours.
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My legs finally answered and I jumped up, running out of the room and
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closing the door behind me. On the other side of the door, I
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heard frantic scratches as if the creature was trying to escape. The sounds stopped
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abruptly. When my father came home trembling, I stood in the room just
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to find out that everything was in order, as if the nightmare had never
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happened. Fear took hold of me, but the fear of facing my father
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' s wrath kept me silent. Although the room was immaculate, I knew
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that what lived in it was more than just a nightmare. Doña Matilde'
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s fingernail marks were still visible on my arm. That was, without doubt,
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tangible proof of what had happened. I was afraid to tell my father
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about the experience, not only because of the sure reprimand for having disobeyed his
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rules, but also because, as I said before, this was a skeptical
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man and I would never believe in the possibility that an inert body rising and
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grunting would be responsible for the wounds on my arm. For the rest of
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that afternoon, I tried to convince myself that it had been a hallucination.
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However, the wounds on my arm were too real to ignore. While I
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was doing my homework, my mind constantly wandered toward that experience. I was
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so absorbed in my thoughts that I barely noticed my father examining the marks on
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my arm. He questioned me about his origin with a knot in my throat,
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I invented a story about climbing a tree and cutting me with its sharp
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branches. Fortunately, for me, my father did not delve into the subject,
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accepting my explanation with a simple assent not without asking me to be more
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careful. The lie gave me a momentary relief, but the truth continued to
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torment me for the rest of that evening and that night. The memory of
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old Matilde and her creepy transformation didn' t leave me. I tried to
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sleep, but memories prevented me almost at midnight. I finally fell into a
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restless dream. However, that didn' t last long. I woke up
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startled by the memory. As I calmed down, I tried to go back
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to sleep, but an emergency took me to the bathroom. At the end,
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the anguish seized me when I returned to my room, as a strange
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noise came from the kitchen. My first thought was that my father was there.
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However, as I approached reality it was revealed grotesquely. In the dimness
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of the kitchen, the twisted figure of Doña Matilde was contorted in an arched
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position her being her deaf malevolent smile. I smelled my blood. The old
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woman was there and her body, though deformed, moved with an inhuman speed.
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As he was heading towards me. Terror paralysed me, but the need
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to escape prompted me to retreat Doña Matilde into her unnatural position. He chased
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me relentlessly. The speed with which I climbed the stairs was disconcerting I got
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to my room in time and closed the door tightly, feeling my heart pounding
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uncontrollably. The night became eternal. Fear took hold of me and the trail
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of that deformed creature continued to haunt me in my nightmares. When my father
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got up at dawn, everything was calm. The kitchen once again looked as
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if nothing had happened, leaving everything in my memories again. The dilemma of
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sharing my terror with my father intensified, but the voice of reason warned me
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that once again I would face his skepticism. I had no idea what to
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think or who to turn to. The only thing I could do was just
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pray, because that would never happen again. Doña Matilde' s farewell came
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in the form of a wake. The next day few people showed up and
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although my father was busy with the preparations, I was happy and relieved that
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that body would finally get away from our home. I thought with your departure
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everything would return to normal. However, what I did not know was that
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the real nightmare was just beginning. The next night passed without incident. Apparently
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Doña Matilde' s presence faded away with her departure. I managed to sleep
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without problems, but a nightmare stalked me in the darkness of my dreams.
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In the nightmare I was trapped in a dark labyrinth with the walls slowly closing
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around me. The anguish enveloped me as I desperately tried to find a way
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out, but each turn brought me back to the same point. My breathing
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was getting short. The sweat was slipping down my forehead, while claustrophobia was
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taking over me. All that felt very real to make just one dream.
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Suddenly. The walls shook revealing emaciated faces that watched me with demonic eyes.
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I woke up startled, but the feeling of oppression persisted. The next morning
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the light of day arrived with an apparent normality, dispelled the shadows of the
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nightmare and plunged into the daily routine. However, the illusion of peace faded
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when, when I lay down that night, I noticed a gentle glow in
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my room with caution. I got up and put my barefoot feet on the
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floor, but before I could even take a step. A pair of bony
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hands emerged from the darkness under my bed, holding me by my ankles,
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with strength and pain seized me when I was dragged abruptly to the ground.
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The fear was unstoppable. That time I started screaming so loud that I woke
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up my father, who, alerted by my cries of despair, broke into
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the room. However, he only found me trembling still with almost half a
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body under the bed, with no trace of the entity that had emerged.
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From there I told my father about the horror I had witnessed, but his
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unbelieving eyes and condescending tone of voice attributed my experience to a vivid nightmare.
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I tried to convince him by telling my story in detail, but my attempts
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were in vain. As the days passed, paranormal events intensified. Shadows could
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be seen on the walls Every time I found myself just inaudible whispers filled the
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air and sometimes the lights flashed inexplicably. I tried to explain it to my
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father in vain. His skepticism persisted as my anguish grew. The nights became
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a torment between my own reality and the presence of Doña Matilde. One night
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I lay in bed, I felt a cold gust of wind in the room.
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Although the windows were closed, the lamp he had began to give dim
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flashes. The blinking light projected the twisted figure of the old woman, extending
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her bony hands towards me. His laughter resonated in the darkness and his voice
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enveloped me terrified. I tried to run, but a sleep paralysis had taken
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over me. My breathing was heavy and scary, and the latter increased when
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I felt a hand touching my foot. The penetrating cold of his touch left
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me breathless, it was as if death itself rubbed my skin. My father,
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alien to my sufferings, remained steadfast in his skepticism and his attempts to
31:00
comfort me became vague words of encouragement falling on deaf ears. Another night,
31:06
while sleeping, I found myself wandering through the dark corridors of the funeral home
31:11
in a lucid dream. Doña Matilde' s presence materialized in front of me.
31:15
His figure was distorted and every step he took resounded like a sinister echo
31:21
and his demoniacs watched me with a supernatural intensity. I tried to escape,
31:27
but every door I opened led me to a darker corner of the funerary maze.
31:32
The entity mocked me with demonic laughter and the feeling of having that demonic
31:37
entity behind me felt very real. When I woke up, reality and sleep
31:44
had interwoven so that nightmares seemed to spread their claws beyond the night. Every
31:51
day it became a battle to keep my sanity. Doña Matilde' s shadows
31:56
were projected on the walls voices, whispered to me in the corners and the
32:00
cold of her presence persisted. The entity of Doña Matilde persisted in its effort
32:06
to disturb my life. Not only did it manifest itself in lucid dreams,
32:09
but it also left its mark on the physical world. Objects moved inexplicably,
32:15
shadows danced on the walls and the whisper of his laughter leaked into the silence
32:20
of the night. Not to mention the bruises and scratches I had begun to
32:25
notice in many parts of my body. One afternoon, as I wandered through
32:31
the funeral home, I found myself again in the room where the corpses are
32:37
kept. Since the meeting with Doña Matilde I had refrained from entering. However,
32:40
at that time a desire to do so invaded me. The heavy atmosphere
32:45
thickened around me and the presence of Doña Matilde intensified with every step I took.
32:52
Without knowing why I was doing what my trembling hands were doing, they
32:58
stretched out to the door. But before I touched it, a chill ran
33:00
through my spine, so I finally decided not to go in. However,
33:07
as I turned around, the entity revealed itself in front of me. Her
33:10
twisted figure made her look pretty grotesque. I tried to retreat, but my
33:16
body became paralyzed by looking at that demonic being in front of me. Doña
33:21
Matilde extended one of her bony hands to me her cold touch clinged to my
33:25
skin. The vision of his emaciated face became a whirlwind of nightmares. My
33:30
scream resonated in every corner of the house and at that moment the entity vanished,
33:36
leaving me trembling in the dark reality that now inhabited the nights of insomnia.
33:43
They became my reality and the fear of meeting the entity took over every
33:46
thought. I remember taking refuge in my local church in search of answers,
33:52
which were attended by a priest, who, despite not believing in my history,
33:57
gave me a rosary and a prayer with which he assured me to find
34:00
peace. However, the most terrifying episode was yet to arrive at dawn I
34:09
woke up soaked in sweat as it was customary, my room was wrapped in
34:15
a grave silence as I incorporated my gaze into the dark corner of the room
34:21
and then, Doña Matilde materialized right there with her laughter, resounding in my
34:25
ears like an infernal echo. You can' t escape. He whispered his
34:31
voice, he carried with him, which I can only describe as pure evil.
34:36
His presence intensified and the room was filled with a supernatural shadow. I
34:40
tried to run, but his bony hands immediately immobilized me. I was trying
34:46
to scream, but my voice was barely heard. The entity climbed to face
34:52
- to- face with me. I could feel her fetid breath, which
34:55
hit my nose and made me nauseous. I wanted to pray again at the
35:00
prayer the priest had taught me that evening. However, no matter how hard
35:06
he tried, he could not remember beyond the first few words. My attempts
35:12
to pray led that horrible entity to laugh at me and, as if trying
35:15
to prove something is, he placed his hand on my face, preventing me
35:22
from breathing while my body hailed oxygen I could hear her laugh and it became
35:27
apparent that I enjoyed that. That night I felt I was going to die.
35:30
However, my father entered my room, causing that spectrum to fade away.
35:37
Although my father could not see anything, he witnessed how I desperately tried
35:40
to breathe. That worried him so much that he ended up taking me to
35:46
the hospital, where, once the doctors assured him that I was well,
35:51
I recounted the experiences with Doña Matilde. My father, exhausted from my accounts,
35:57
became more and more fantastic and dangerous. In his opinion, he decided
36:01
to take drastic steps to restore peace to our home. Even without being convinced
36:07
that something beyond human explanation was happening. He decided to call a local priest
36:13
to bless the house. The arrival of the man of faith marked a change
36:17
in the charged atmosphere of the funeral home. With sacred words, the priest
36:22
toured every corner of our dwelling, invoking divine protection. Since that day,
36:29
the oppressive atmosphere that had plagued the house decreased and the nights became quieter.
36:36
The blessing not only brought with it a relative peace, but also alleviated the
36:40
tension between my father and me, Although still maintaining his skepticism, He accepted
36:45
that, after that blessing he could feel in the house a less heavy atmosphere.
36:52
However, despite the apparent calm, some nights I still felt Doña Matilde
36:57
' s gaze upon me as it was like a persistent shadow. His presence
37:01
manifested little less and the feeling that something was patiently waiting in the darkness became
37:07
fainter, for the blessing had removed the most intense supernatural experiences, but the
37:13
footprint of the entity persisted. The nights became a delicate balance between tranquility and
37:20
restlessness. The blessing had offered a barrier, but it did not completely eliminate
37:27
the feeling that something beyond human understanding was lurking in the shadows. Over time,
37:34
the funeral home regained its ancient splendour and the presence of Doña Matilde gradually
37:38
faded away. My life, though marked by that dark chapter, found stability.
37:45
I never experienced anything similar again and I appreciate it every day. Every
37:58
time I think about my childhood two things come to mind. How sad I
38:02
felt with my mother' s death, which succumbed to cancer when I was
38:07
only five years old, and the experience to which I am about to tell
38:10
you, an experience which I am sure not many will believe, but I
38:15
can swear on a mountain of Bibles that is 100 percent real. My story
38:21
begins in a Morgue, which I remember as a sinister place with cold corridors
38:27
and deserts that made a lot of noise when you walked in them, besides
38:31
smelling very strange. That day, my older brother, who, despite his
38:35
fifteen years, was not the most comforting company in his mind, was more
38:39
concerned about his own affairs and the task of taking care of me fell upon
38:45
him when our father was not at home, which was quite often. I
38:52
remember clearly that we were walking through the endless corridors of the morgue because my
38:58
brother was hoping to get rid of his responsibilities by taking me to work with
39:02
our father, who owned the place. However, my brother’ s hopes
39:07
quickly faded when Dad denied his request to leave me with him so that he
39:13
could go out with his friends, ordering my older brother to take me home.
39:20
I listened to my brother' s complaints in my ears as we walked
39:23
through the cold corridors back, when suddenly something caught my attention in one of
39:29
the rooms a figure lay on a table. He was a child, or
39:34
at least that seemed at first sight. His body was marked by heart-
39:38
breaking burns. The blisters decorated his skin. The vision made me tremble,
39:44
but my brother, motivated by his desire for revenge for having to take care
39:49
of me, pushed me into the room and closed the door. After me.
39:52
The boy' s inert body, which I noticed more closely was a
39:57
girl lying on the table and my useless screams rang out on the walls begging
40:01
to leave, but my brother only laughed on the other side of the locked
40:07
door. My despair grew when in an instant I noticed that the child'
40:12
s head had turned in my direction and as I wondered if it had been
40:17
like this since I had entered. The girl' s eyes opened her eyes
40:22
empty but intense. He stared at me before his mouth uttered loud and heartbreaking
40:28
screams. He seemed to be reliving the pain of his burns. Over and
40:31
over again, fear paralyzed my body. As the screams of the child pierced
40:37
my soul. I begged for my release, knocking on the door harder.
40:43
However, my brother remained indifferent to my anguish and suddenly, the screams ceased
40:47
and a disturbing silence enveloped the room. I looked at the girl, who
40:53
was now silent and completely motionless. Reality and nightmare seemed to mix and I
41:00
wondered if that had been real. The door finally opened, but it was
41:06
not my brother, who had opened it was our father, with an expression
41:10
of anger on his face. My attempt to explain what I had seen was
41:15
hindered by my own fear as I pointed to the table where the child was.
41:21
However, the burnt body of that child seemed nothing unusual. In my
41:25
father' s eyes. Our father' s reprimands didn' t wait.
41:30
Once he returned home, he reminded us of the ban on playing in that
41:35
place and of how the gravity of our disobedience could trigger serious consequences. However,
41:42
my childish mind barely paid attention to the scolding. I tried to rationalize
41:49
what had happened, questioning whether my fear had made that terrifying experience or whether
41:54
it had really happened. The following nights were marked by sleep, disturbing and
42:00
a constant sense of being observed. The figure of the burnt child materialized in
42:06
my nightmares, his screams rumbled in my head. My days passed in a
42:10
state of constant anxiety. Fearing anything that might remind me of that child.
42:17
One night my father had a night shift at the morgue, which meant that
42:22
I would stay home alone with my older brother in charge. It wasn'
42:27
t the first time that happened. In fact, it was quite common,
42:30
but that time my brother, who was not exactly the model of responsibility,
42:37
saw that night as his opportunity to go out and have fun. When my
42:40
father left, my brother told me that night he had plans and would leave
42:45
me alone my pleas to stay or take me with him. They fell on
42:51
deaf ears and their response was a clear and threatening warning. If I told
42:55
our father about his absence, there would be consequences. The fear of reprisals
43:00
left me voiceless and I nodded silently as I watched my brother enlist to leave
43:06
that night, once he left. The house was silenced. Gravel only broken
43:13
by the sounds of television, with which I tried to drown my anxiety.
43:17
I held onto the remote like a Lifeguard, trying to find comfort in the
43:22
light. Tenue from the screen, which gave me a momentary inner peace.
43:28
Tiredness finally beat me and I plunged into a restless sleep on the couch The
43:34
cold and the bad position in which I fell asleep. It ripped me out
43:37
of my dream and when I saw the time I realized it was almost midnight.
43:42
The house was enveloped in an overwhelming darkness. Strange noises from the kitchen,
43:47
however, caught my attention. Initially I thought he was my brother,
43:53
but my calls to him were unanswered. I decided to investigate now. I
44:00
moved cautiously towards the kitchen. The darkness was dense, but I managed to
44:05
distinguish a figure in the shadow. I struggled to remain calm by lighting the
44:08
light, but my heart stopped when the burnt child, with her body marked
44:13
by burns and blisters, appeared before my eyes. His lifeless eyes met mine.
44:22
My throat closed before the surreal vision and I could barely articulate any words.
44:28
The girl, in a childish but diabolically distorted voice, uttered disturbing words.
44:35
Give me a glass of water, a scream. He escaped from my
44:38
lips as he retreated in haste, closing the kitchen door behind me. My
44:44
mind struggled to understand the reality of what I had seen, but no matter
44:49
how much I tried to calm myself down. Fear persisted. The girl was
44:52
still there with her request ringing in my ears. It was an hour before
44:59
my brother finally came home. However, his attention was not in my shaky
45:04
explanations about the girl in the kitchen. His indifference and disinterest made it clear
45:09
that he had no intention of believing My words the only thing I got in
45:15
response was the horrible reprisals and revealed his absence to our father, so I
45:21
gave up the idea of receiving support from him. The next night was a
45:25
torment for me, marked by a nightmare that left me trembling and sweating in
45:30
my bed. In the dream. I was walking through the endless corridors of
45:36
the morgue, a place I knew too well. The morgue was completely empty,
45:40
but as it progressed, the feeling that the corridor was spreading into eternity
45:45
grew as if it were trapped in a dark maze. Unendingly, suddenly,
45:52
a childish laughter rang out in the morgue, sending chills through my body and
45:58
turning the. The life of that spectrum materialized before me his left hand was
46:02
raised in a greeting, while on the right he held huge scissors stained with
46:07
a thick red liquid a macabre vision that iced my blood. The girl started
46:15
chasing me with inhuman steps. His laughter sounded like a demon echo. I
46:21
ran with all my might screaming desperately, but the hallway seemed to have no
46:25
end and every time I saw myself again, the girl was closer. His
46:30
deformed figure was determinedly advancing to harm me. At one point I felt his
46:37
breath on my neck. Fear paralyzed me completely and before I could react,
46:40
I woke up abruptly in my bed, trembling and sweating. The nightmare faded
46:46
away, but its impact persisted in my mind, as if its shadow had
46:51
held on to my being the house was mired in a disturbing silence. When
46:57
I opened my eyes, the need to search with orselo prompted me to want
47:01
to sleep with my father, but his room was empty and his arrival had
47:06
not yet been announced, so without knowing what else to do, I decided
47:09
to go with the only person who was at home, with an anxiety knot
47:15
in my stomach, I went to my brother' s room in search of
47:19
refuge. However, when I opened the door I was expelled. My pleas
47:23
were received with contempt. My brother argued that it was just a nightmare and
47:30
that I stopped acting like a little boy without another option, I went back
47:36
to my room, but when I opened the door, a dark presence caught
47:39
my attention in a corner of my room. The figure was hardly distinguishable in
47:44
the dark, but my heart froze to recognize that child. Although the darkness
47:50
covered her features, I was sure it was her. Terror enveloped me,
47:54
for the burnt child remained silent, watching me with the pot that lifeless look
48:00
that characterized her my instinct shouted inside me, inviting me to flee from my
48:06
room, so, without thinking, I retreated and ran towards the ground floor.
48:13
However, because of the rush, my feet slipped halfway up the stairs
48:16
and I fell to the ground, breaking my arm in the process, a
48:22
cry of pain escaped from my throat, as the agony gripped me. At
48:27
that very moment, the sound of the keys in the lock resounded in the
48:30
house announcing my father' s arrival. The pain and fear intertwined as I
48:36
lay on the ground with my broken arm and the burnt girl still present.
48:40
My father broke into the scene, confused and worried to see me on the
48:45
floor. The explanation of what happened stuck in my throat. My mind struggled
48:51
to find coherent words to explain what happened. I thought about telling the truth,
48:57
but I didn' t know where to start. My father' s
49:00
fear of reprimand for inventing stories made me unable to tell what happened, so
49:06
I just told him I wanted to go down for water and slipped. That
49:10
was enough for my father, who hastened to take me to the hospital to
49:16
attend to my arm. The time passed between visits to the doctor to treat
49:21
my broken arm and sleepless nights. The spectre of that child, with her
49:24
distorted figure, became an even more constant presence in my life, both awake
49:31
and in my dreams. My relationship with my brother became more tense. Not
49:37
only had he left me alone in the house, but he had also rejected
49:42
me when I sought refuge in his room, and that was why I had
49:45
broken my arm, not to mention that every attempt to talk about the strange
49:51
presence of the child resulted in disdain and mockery. On the other hand,
49:53
my fear grew fuelled by the feeling that that child really wanted to hurt and
50:00
that I had no one to defend me. The nightmare of love repeated in
50:05
my dreams over and over was walking in infinite corridors, pursued by the sinister
50:10
laughter of the burnt child. The scissors stained with red reflected the promise of
50:16
a constant danger and each awakening was marked by the relief of escaping the nightmare.
50:23
But reality became increasingly uncertain. One night, when my father had another
50:30
night shift, I spent much of the night under the sheets. I thought
50:35
this way I' d avoid seeing that specter that tormented me. That,
50:39
in fact, seemed to bear fruit, as that was the first night in
50:44
a long time that I had no fear of any kind before sleeping. While
50:49
sleeping, the nightmare returned with a renewed peculiarity. I was walking through the
50:55
deserted morgue. The corridors stretched into the darkness and the demonic laughter resonates sending
51:00
chills through my spine. I turned in response to the sound and there she
51:06
was. His greeting with his left hand and the scissors on the right were
51:10
a warning of what would come. The laughter became a distorted echo and persecution
51:15
began. I ran desperately, but the endless corridor mocked my efforts. The
51:22
burnt girl approached with every step and her deformed figure projected an aura of malice.
51:30
The moment his threatening scissors were about to reach me I woke up from
51:35
my nightmare and the momentary relief was mixed with the fear that was clinging to
51:38
my being. The sweat covered my forehead and my heart hit my chest like
51:44
a frantic drum. The house was wrapped in silence. When I opened my
51:50
eyes, but my fear knew no borders. I tried to get back to
51:53
sleep. However, the atmosphere in my room began to become so heavy,
51:58
so at one point it was difficult for me to breathe, so the need
52:01
to be accompanied exceeded anything, so I decided that I would try to go
52:07
with my father, but remembering that he had a night shift, I didn
52:12
' t have another. I knew my brother' s figure was the only
52:15
one I could turn to. At that time, I walked to the door
52:21
of my brother' s room and opened it cautiously, but instead of finding
52:24
understanding, I was greeted with his fury. He kicked me out of his
52:30
room again insisting that he stop acting like a scary kid and stop inventing things.
52:36
His indifference felt like a stab in my already fragile sanity. With my
52:40
last attempt to seek refuge. Frustrated, I went back to my room.
52:45
The darkness hovered over me and the shadow of the child persisted in my mind
52:50
and as I opened the door, something in the darkest corner caught my attention.
52:54
A figure stood there and I knew it was the specter of that child.
53:00
I was tired of all that and since I was sure that I would
53:05
not receive anyone' s help, I decided to face it. I yelled
53:07
at him that he should be long enough to leave me alone and that he
53:14
no longer feared the latter was a total lie and it was clear that it
53:19
reflected in my voice, but the silhouette of the girl was completely immutable to
53:22
my screams. Staring at me in the darkness of that corner, he suddenly
53:28
took such steps to the light, showing his body covered with sores in its
53:31
utmost splendor, a smile was drawn on his face, while he showed sharp
53:36
scissors in his right hand. My nightmare was coming true in front of my
53:42
eyes and I couldn' t help but let go of a cry crying for
53:46
help. At that very moment, the sound of the keys in the lock
53:51
announced the arrival of my father, who could hear my scream. My father,
53:55
alarmed, believing he was in danger, ran to my room. I
54:00
was standing outside and I clumsily explained to him what had happened, because I
54:05
could no longer hide anything. I tried to find the right words to express
54:10
the terror that haunted me. My father listened in silence, but his expression
54:15
became more and more skeptical. The weeks that followed were marked by visits to
54:22
the psychologist and uncomfortable conversations in which I tried to explain the inexplicable situation.
54:28
My brother remained in his position of disbelief and mockery, considering my accounts as
54:32
mere whims of a frightened mind, as a desperate attempt to seek attention over
54:38
time. My father, though unbelieving, sought professional help. Doctors and psychologists
54:46
tried to find a logical explanation for my persistent fear and terrifying visions. However,
54:53
no conclusive response emerged. The burnt child remained a shadow in my life,
55:00
defying all logic. The nights of solitude became unbearable and my despair increased
55:07
with every appearance of that demonic being. My father, while trying to understand,
55:14
was caught between the need to protect his son and the inability to understand
55:17
the forces that unleashed my fear. In a desperate attempt to free myself from
55:23
the dark presence that haunted me, my father decided to move the new house
55:30
with his fresh and unknown air promising a respite from the terrifying past. However,
55:35
that being persisted in my memory, unable to ever remain calm. As
55:40
long as I was alone with the housing change, I began to become more
55:45
religious. I could notice that the more devoted I became the apparitions and sensations
55:51
of that entity became more and more. Tenues, besides that spirituality gave a
55:55
better focus to my life, which at that time I felt quite empty.
56:01
In time I learned to live with the shadow of that demonic being, I
56:07
grew up and built my own life, but the experience never ceased to be
56:12
an indelible mark on my memory. Today I still have nightmares, but the
56:15
comforting thing is that they' re all that and I hope it stays that
56:20
way until the day of my death. My name is Miguel and what I
56:30
' m going to tell you next is how I learned about a curse that
56:35
drags my family from generations ago and I found out about that one in the
56:39
worst way. From a young age, I considered myself someone who prioritized logic.
56:44
Above all, every time an event appeared that seemed inexplicable, I tried
56:47
to find a rational explanation. He firmly believed that everything in life could be
56:55
understood and explained by reason and logic. However, to my misfortune, life
57:01
would be responsible for teaching me a valuable lesson. It was a hot one.
57:07
Late summer I was walking home after a long day of work. The
57:14
sun was beginning to hide on the horizon. Suddenly my everyday thoughts were abruptly
57:19
interrupted by a vehicle accident, of which I witnessed. Front row. A
57:25
motorcyclist had violently crashed into a car at the intersection right in front of me.
57:31
He didn' t wear a helmet and the impact had been so brutal
57:37
that it was hard to describe. I was paralyzed watching passersby rush to help
57:40
as the inert body lay on the pavement. I' ve never seen anything
57:49
like it before. The shock pierced me, leaving me breathless and heartless,
57:52
pounding hard on my chest. The images of the accident were repeated over and
57:58
over again in my mind, as if it were an infinite loop. But
58:02
the worst was yet to come as I found myself shocked. I noticed how
58:07
the biker' s body, shattered and bloody, began to move. At
58:14
first it was barely noticeable as a mild tremor, but then his broken limbs
58:20
twisted clumsily, as if he was desperately trying to get up. The panic
58:27
took hold of me when his eyes, injected into blood, nailed into mine.
58:31
It was an empty, lifeless look, but full of indescribable malice.
58:37
And then his face became distorted in a grotesque smile, a demonic smile that
58:43
did not belong to this world. A chill swept through my spine when the
58:49
biker started laughing It was a demonic and heartbreaking laugh that resonated in my ears
58:54
and made me want to cover them with despair. But the scariest thing of
58:59
all was that no one else seemed to notice the horrifying scene before his eyes.
59:06
People continued their lives as if nothing extraordinary was happening. Some continued to
59:12
talk on their phones, informing their acquaintances of the accident. Others talked,
59:16
among them, about the dangerousness of the street and others simply ignored the scene
59:21
and continued on their way. It was as if only I could see the
59:27
real nightmare unfolding. The biker slowly joined. His movements were spasmodic and disarticulated.
59:36
Every step I took resonated in my head, for despite all the noise,
59:39
I could swear that I listened to his bones, carved each other with
59:44
every step, and then turned to me and began to advance with his sinister
59:49
laughter, rumbling in the air. Fear paralysed me in the place. As
59:53
I watched him approach instinctively I retreated feeling the need ur people to get away
1:00:01
from that living abomination. Finally, I gathered enough strength to turn around and
1:00:06
run away from that place, my feet hit the asphalt hard. As I
1:00:12
walked away as fast as I could. The biker' s laughter still resonated
1:00:16
in my ears, stunning me with his macabre and ruthless tone, I couldn
1:00:22
' t help but wonder if what I had just witnessed was real or simply
1:00:29
a hallucination caused by the shock of witnessing that deviceic accident. When I got
1:00:34
home, I staggered at the door with my heart still hammering in my chest.
1:00:38
With uncontrollable force, I closed the door behind me with trembling hands,
1:00:44
trying to block the memory of what I had seen without much success, ignoring
1:00:50
the knot of anxiety that twisted in my stomach, headed towards the couch and
1:00:53
fell on it with a sigh. I tried to convince myself that everything had
1:00:59
been just an illusion, a product of my mind disturbed by trauma, Despite
1:01:04
the exhaustion that weighed on my eyelids as lead, I fell on the couch
1:01:08
and closed my eyes, But when I did, my memories led me to
1:01:13
what I had witnessed that afternoon. The memories of the accident were still in
1:01:19
my mind, so I tried to forget everything. Turn on the TV.
1:01:23
The heat in the room wrapped me softly. As I slowly sank into the
1:01:29
darkness of sleep. The buzz on the background TV faded away while I fell
1:01:34
asleep. It was in the middle of the night when I woke up suddenly
1:01:38
the flashing light on the TV filled the room with flashing flashes and a cold
1:01:45
sweat covered my forehead. As I struggled to catch my breath, I turned
1:01:51
off the TV and got off the sofa decided to retire to the safety of
1:01:54
my bed. At that moment, as I was heading towards the hallway leading
1:01:59
to my mistress room, a disturbing sound broke the silence of the night.
1:02:04
It was a deaf noise like the crackling of broken branches under the weight of
1:02:07
something I frowned. Wondering I might be causing such a commotion in my garden
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at that time of night, I thought I' d forget about it and
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go to sleep. However, the sound repeated again and I remembered that my
1:02:22
neighbors had been complaining about animals, which broke garbage bags, so, taking
1:02:28
a flashlight, I decided to go out to drive them away. At first,
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everything seemed quiet. The ground was bathed by the silvery moonlight and the
1:02:38
fresh air of the night ran through the trees. I walked into the area,
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where I used to put my garbage bags when I didn' t pass
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the truck. But when I got there, I realized that my garbage was
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intact. Seeing that I had nothing more to worry about, I turned around
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to come back. However, a loud noise to the ugly garden was present,
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so I lit up there as I approached. But then, just before
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I got to my destination, the flashlight suddenly went out. Admiring myself in
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the deepest darkness, I struck a couple of shots on the side of the
1:03:16
flashlight trying to revive it, but I only got weak flashes. In response.
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A sudden noise made me jump echoing in the stillness of the night.
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It was like the sound of something falling to the ground. My muscles instinctively
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thought as I turned to the origin of the noise with my heart beating strongly.
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It was then that the light of the flashlight lit again, revealing the
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distorted figure of a man, but it was not any man. He was
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the motorcyclist of the car accident. His demonic smile became present that night.
1:03:53
Terror wrapped me up like an icy blanket. While I was going back my
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mind was struggling to process the nightmare in front of me, I dropped the
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flashlight. When my feet instinctively moved back. Far from that horror, I
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ran to the safety of my home as I tried to contain the panic that
1:04:14
threatened to consume me completely. The next morning I had no choice but to
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leave my home, although in truth, I did not want to do so
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in the sunlight. I felt a little calmer as if the shadows of the
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night before were dissipated before the clarity of the day. However, the feeling
1:04:32
of restlessness still persisted in the depths of my being as I walked through the
1:04:39
remaining park on my way to work. A feeling of discomfort invaded me when
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I noticed the absence of children who used to run and laugh in the playground.
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Instead, they were all standing silently. Observing me with a disturbing intensity,
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I frowned feeling a chill to my body when I noticed the expression on
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their faces was the same wild and sinister smile I had seen on the biker
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the night before. A knot of terror formed in my stomach. When I
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realized that every child showed that macabre face without exception. A cry of horror
1:05:17
escaped my lips. Calling the attention of people walking nearby. I looked around
1:05:24
for help, hoping to find some confirmation that what I saw was not real
1:05:29
and that everything was just an illusion created by my disturbed mind. But to
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my horror, no one else seemed to notice the strange transformation that was taking
1:05:41
place before his eyes. People continued with their lives as if nothing were out
1:05:45
of place, ignoring the horrific scene that unfolded before them. It was as
1:05:49
if I was trapped in a nightmare world where reality and fantasy intertwined in a
1:05:56
terrifying way. But somehow, only I could realize that with my heart.
1:06:02
Hammering on my chest, I walked away from the park as fast as I
1:06:08
could, feeling the terror. With every step I took, my thoughts revolved
1:06:12
with confusion and fear, wondering if I was losing my sanity or if something
1:06:16
much darker was happening. Upon arriving at work, I found myself unable to
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concentrate on my usual tasks. The image of the children, with their twisted
1:06:27
and demonic smiles, kept tormenting me. I tried to rationalize what I had
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seen looking for logical explanations for what I had just witnessed, but every attempt
1:06:39
to find a satisfactory answer only left me with more unanswered questions, fueling my
1:06:45
fears and increasing my despair. At the end of the day I returned home
1:06:51
with total uncertainty, as I felt as if I was on the verge of
1:06:56
madness. There was no explanation, which could give that it did not end
1:07:00
up generating even more doubt and felt that it was about to go crazy From
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that fateful day. My life had been a descent into the darkness. It
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didn' t matter if I was awake or asleep. The entity seemed to
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enjoy tormenting me mercilessly in my work, in the street, in the privacy
1:07:18
of my home I always felt a penetrating look, as if someone was watching
1:07:25
me from anywhere and when I was able to locate the person who was watching
1:07:30
me, I always found myself with the same terrifying vision, a twisted and
1:07:36
disfigured smile like the one I had seen on the face of the biker in
1:07:42
that fateful afternoon, every encounter filled me with a sense of horror, feeding
1:07:47
my fears and destroying my sanity. With every passing day, nights were no
1:07:50
better. These were plagued by strange dreams, almost for the most part,
1:07:57
with a man with a terrifying face, and those are demonic laughter that always
1:08:00
seemed to be mocking me for those reasons I hardly slept, causing my quality
1:08:06
of life to be affected day by day desperate to find some peace, I
1:08:13
decided to return to my hometown, seeking refuge in the calm of rural life.
1:08:18
But even there the shadow of the entity that was chasing me seemed to
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follow me my mother. Seeing my state exhausted and afflicted, he finally confronted
1:08:29
me wondering what was happening to me. I tried to evade their questions,
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fearing that by talking about them I would only feed my own fears, just
1:08:39
like my mother' s. But there came a time when I could no
1:08:42
longer hide the truth. I told my mother about the disturbing visions and encounters
1:08:46
I had experienced since that afternoon when I witnessed that car accident. His face
1:08:55
paled as he listened to my words and I could see the worry and fear
1:09:00
reflected in his eyes. My mother told me that I needed to talk to
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my grandfather, because if anyone knew anything about everything, that was him.
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Those words intrigued me. I was wondering why my grandfather would know something about
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it. However, my mother refused to tell me anything else, so I
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went to my grandfather' s house. I had seen my grandfather only a
1:09:25
few times during my childhood. He was a reserved man who preferred solitude to
1:09:30
the company of others, and the only clear memory he had of him was,
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as he had pulled me, an ear for taking an orange from one
1:09:39
of his altars. At that time, however, I was clinging to the
1:09:44
hope that he might have answers to the questions that tormented me when I arrived
1:09:49
at my grandfather’ s house. There was no need for him to tell
1:09:53
me anything. His gaze seemed to read my soul, recognizing the torment that
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burdened me From that late fatigue, without a word, my grandfather brought me
1:10:02
in and offered me a cup of tea, whose strange aroma filled the room.
1:10:08
Although the taste of tea was unusual, I felt an immediate relief when
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I took the first sips. It was as if a heavy slab had risen
1:10:16
from my chest, allowing me to breathe easily. For the first time in
1:10:20
a long time, I looked at my grandfather in awe wondering what kind of
1:10:26
magic was in that simple cup of tea. That' s when my grandfather
1:10:30
started telling me the truth about a curse that had fallen on our family.
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He told me that he himself had experienced similar visions in his youth, like
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my father before me, and that it was a curse, which passed from
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parents to children, although they were not sure which of the children would inherit
1:10:49
it. I asked him what exactly was following us, but my grandfather could
1:10:57
only shrug his shoulders in response. No one in our family knew for sure
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that it was that being who tormented us, only that they called him the
1:11:06
one who smiles at the macabre expression that always adorned his face. My grandfather
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proceeded to tell me how it all started. When I was just a kid.
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His father had taken him with him to a morgue, as he worked
1:11:19
there and had nowhere to leave him and while playing carelessly between the rooms.
1:11:26
He met a man who was resting at one of the tables. The man
1:11:30
was completely blue and on his arm there was a tattoo of very strange satanic
1:11:36
symbols. My grandfather, curious, touched that man' s tattoo. It
1:11:41
was then that the man turned his head toward him, showing a mocking,
1:11:45
demonic smile that filled him with terror. He says he ran to his father,
1:11:50
but despite telling what he had seen, no one believed him. But
1:11:55
from that day on, the one who smiles became present in my grandfather'
1:11:59
s life, lurking in the shadows or manifesting himself in different people, without
1:12:04
anyone other than him being able to notice his presence. Eventually, my grandfather
1:12:09
learned to protect himself using amulets and rituals, but when he had children,
1:12:15
one of them inherited the curse and this was my father. When he had
1:12:18
his children, the first thing he did was baptize us all by believing,
1:12:23
so none of us would be affected and for many years everyone believed it had
1:12:29
worked. That was the reason they never talked to us about it. However,
1:12:34
we now knew that this was not the case. My grandfather gave me
1:12:39
some of those protective amulets promising me that they would help me keep at bay.
1:12:44
Being chasing us with protective amulets in my possession, I said goodbye to
1:12:48
my grandfather with a knot in his throat and a feeling of gratitude mixed with
1:12:53
the weight of the reality he faced. Although I now had a clearer understanding
1:13:00
of what was lurking at me. The feeling of fear persisted in the depths
1:13:02
of my being I returned home with a new determination, determined to face my
1:13:10
destiny. I learned to live with the constant presence of the smiling one,
1:13:15
who was always vigilant in the shadows, stalking me in the most unexpected moments,
1:13:21
although I still saw him from time to time. I learned to ignore
1:13:26
it and to stand firm in my purpose of living as normal a life as
1:13:30
possible. I dived into my work and my hobbies, looking for distractions to
1:13:34
keep my thoughts away from the darkness around me. However, there was a
1:13:41
decision that weighed upon me, the choice of not having children, for I
1:13:45
knew that the curse that had haunted my family for generations, could be passed
1:13:50
on to the next generation and I could not bear the idea of condemning another
1:13:55
human being to the same life of fear and despair that I had lived.
1:13:59
I sometimes questioned myself having made the right decision, if I was giving up
1:14:05
a fundamental part of human experience for fear of the unknown. But every time
1:14:11
I saw the mocking and disfigured smile in the dark, I remembered why I
1:14:15
had made that decision. Despite everything, I found comfort in the small moments
1:14:20
of happiness and tranquility I could still find in my life. I held fast
1:14:27
to them, reminding me that there was still hope in this dark and threatening
1:14:31
world. And so, as time passed, I learned to accept my destiny
1:14:38
with resignation. The curse that had haunted my family for so long was still
1:14:43
a dark part of my life, but it had also taught me to value
1:14:46
every moment of happiness and peace I could find in this troubled and chaotic world.
1:14:56
Stories written and adapted by climbing aurora or lowers you from n