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Mi Aterradora Experiencia Con El Jinete Del Cementerio - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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The pantheon that is located on the outskirts of the north of the city celebrated
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two hundred years of existence last week. It is much older, even than
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certain colonies, stables and parks located within the city. The cemetery is enormous,
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because over two centuries the remains of thousands of people whose families have taken
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care to keep their memory alive have been placed in its territorial area. However,
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by the same age of the place, tombs that have been unproven for
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decades are reused. This means that the tombstone is removed, an excavation is
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carried out, the body is exhumed from its resting place and the territorial extension
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where it was now would be made available to house another crow, something families
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do not usually wonder if the place where they are burying their close friend already
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houses another corpse before that of their relative. This turns out to be obvious
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from the antiquity and extent of the place, but there are people who would
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know this. They would not like the remains of their loved one to be
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deposited in that territorial denomination, as they consider it inappropriate or simply disrespectful.
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Long before the city was founded, it is clear that the natives of the
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place already occupied parts of the territory where a city has now been built that
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pretends to be modern and that tries to develop in socio- cultural aspects.
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However, what many do not know is the existence, or rather the previous
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existence of temples of the original cultures that were used in the same way that
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today a cemetery is used, a place to go so that the remains of
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your friend or family can rest and so his spirit. According to various beliefs,
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it is evident that the natives of the place are not the former exception
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in terms of ceremonies and rituals. Regarding the culture that has been fostered around
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the death of a person, it drinks a lot from the roots of the
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people who were and have been first of all in the place where we currently
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live. And it is known that the cemetery has already mentioned was previously a
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place belonging to the original communities of the region, where rituals were performed concerning
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the dead. Many do not know and those who come to know refuse to
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leave the remains of their loved ones in a place that is so old.
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In the 1980s, a legend began to be told about the city. It
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was said that the pantheon to the north of it housed souls in sorrow,
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souls that wander around the tombs and the different paths of the territory, not
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only in the cemetery, but also in the places adjacent to it and to
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the peoples that surround the nearby territory. This is not to originate thanks to
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the anecdotes and stories told by the watchmen of the cemetery, who claimed to
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see intruders walking around, who in unknown ways could enter the territory without anyone
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realizing it and who, after following the trail of said intruder, was no
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longer disappearing around the corner, from some mausoleum or from a bar that was
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found along the way. This was arousing curiosity and also the fear of many
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people who stopped visiting the place late at night. Family members and people who
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were going to pray for their deceased never planned to stay until late in the
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morning, as legends had not been told in vain and these had a significant
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impact on the way visitors behave. Emilio Bohórquez was a caretaker of the cemetery
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who told one of the best known stories of the town, that of the
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man on horseback. The watchman claimed that one night he was walking around the
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cold and desolate tombs of the place, lighting the dirt roads with his flashlight
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and watching that people did not get involved in vandalizing the site. Suddenly he
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began to hear the heavy sound of an animal, a large animal, which
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could hardly be a dog or a coyote. Upon reaching the newer area of
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the pantheon, one that no longer had a ground floor, but one paved
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emillo, assured that the notion of time was completely lost, as the round
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he felt of full hours when looking at his watch had barely passed a few
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minutes. This would have an easy answer for skeptics, who could ensure that
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the watch on the watch was simply broken. But it turns out that the
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pantheon has some light poles that have embedded a wall clock which serves, in
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addition to simple decoration, as a reference of the elapsed time. For the
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guard in turn, the opposite also used to happen. As he entered this
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paved area for a few minutes, he left there and the clocks marked the
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passage of two or three hours in a matter of brief moments. Emilio was
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not the only one to have this distorted perception of time, but also some
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other watchers who were after him and even visitors who came in the afternoon when
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the sun is about to go down. This according to people who know the
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territory where the new area of the Cemetery was erected is due to the fact
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that the place is even further inside the lands of the natives of the area,
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in which rituals of worship and veneration to death and some deities that are
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not of the popular heritage are practiced to date. For this reason it is
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believed that this area is where the most unusual or paranormal activity is found.
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The most well- known act of Don Emilio is that of the man on
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horseback, because, as I mentioned before, the man claimed to listen to
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the footsteps of a large and heavy animal. However, on the ground,
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that sound was much more notorious and unmistakable for a person in the field,
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who knows how the locks against cement or stones sound. Emilio would turn around
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looking for the origin of these footprints, but he could not find the place
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where they came from. What turned out to be even worse was that,
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following one of these sound tracks and almost getting to the reason for the noise.
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Suddenly the sound moved away and seemed to come from a totally opposite and
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distant point to where it had been heard earlier, which was especially disconcerting for
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the watchman. One night after hearing this mysterious sound trail of horse tracks and
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following its provenance as it was customary for the watchman and waiting for the sound
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suddenly to turn away and change direction. The latter did not happen, as
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he could find the person responsible for the strange footsteps, which resounded throughout the
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new area of the Cemetery. He was a man riding a huge black horse,
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moving quietly among the tombs of the place. Emilio was shocked to discover
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this presence. I didn' t know how to get the rider' s
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attention. I didn' t even know if this was the most prudent thing
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at the time, for unless there was a secret entrance, it was impossible
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for such a man to get into the place of eternal rest with such a
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great animal. That' s not the strangest thing about the case. The
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most unusual and frightening thing is between two issues. The number one is the
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size of the horse, as it was unusually large. It was between two
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and three times the dimensions of a chide horse that are the largest known horse
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race. These reach a hundred centimeters high and weigh between eight hundred kilograms and
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a ton. Now, imagining an animal that doubles these dimensions results in something
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difficult to process. The second most disconcerting factor is that at the top of
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the back of the animal, where the rider sat, one could not distinguish
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any faction from his face or, at least, the space where he should
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be was not that he was covered by some cloth, balaclava or mask,
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but that there was something rare in that place, a sort of vortex that
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moved quickly distorting any distinguishable faction of whoever was above the huge animal. Emilio
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recounts that on that occasion he merely observed the rider and his huge animal slowly
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and slowly move towards total darkness, until his silhouette and the suns set on
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the rock were lost in the distance. That' s a lot of other
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legends. They are those that are counted in reference to the cemetery, to
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the north of the city and personally, I had not had any experience with
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that place until inevitably I had to go to it. This began with the
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unfortunate death of a nephew of mine, a nine- year- old boy,
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who would have died in an accident and my nephew' s body would
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be buried in the pantheon north of the city, in the new area of
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the city itself. All this happened when I was nineteen and when I got
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to the place, with the sad atmosphere between my family and all the things
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that were beginning to happen in my life, I didn' t want to
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be in that place, but I also understood that it was disrespectful simply to
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want to leave or ask my parents to take me home was something I just
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had to endure, because I didn' t want to be reckless. However,
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at the time of the burial ceremony, I decided to get away from
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where my family was and went for a walk through the cemetery. I walked
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and walked until I lost track of time and was not quite clear on what
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part of the pantheon I was in. Realizing this, I decided to go
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back, but by then I was already disoriented and didn' t know what
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direction to take, so I just kept walking where I thought my nephew'
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s wake would be. The place was a real maze and I was beginning
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to despair that I didn' t know where I was from seeing new tombs
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thinking that I was moving forward, but within minutes I would meet again with
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the visual references I had taken. I was beginning to be desperate, because
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I didn' t even distinguish any fence that would indicate to me the edge
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where the pantheon ended and to which I could approach as a reference. My
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despair was such that I began to scream for help, screamed and ran for
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exaltation, but no one listened to me. I only saw the sun hiding
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more and more on the horizon as the minutes passed. It was dark and
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I was crying from despair. I sat at the feet of a tombstone and
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then I began to hear steps that came from the opposite direction to where I
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was coming. At that time I thought I could find someone to help me
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get out of the place I also wondered why my parents and family hadn'
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t called my cell phone if they hadn' t noticed that I wasn'
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t there anymore or if they' d already forgotten about me. That was
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perhaps the most desperate thing, but as I listened to the steps, I
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regained the hope of finding my relatives. Soon I came as far as I
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had heard the steps, but there was nothing and no one. Then,
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to my left coming from the darkness, I heard a cry of despair similar
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to what I thought minutes earlier could be someone else who had also strayed into
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the place. So I followed that trail and found nothing or anyone, just
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an infinite pattern of tombstones, grays, flowers and lamps that lit up the
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night. After walking for another long time, I began to hear the sound
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of horseshoes on a horse. It should be noted that by this time I
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did not know the legend told from mouth to mouth about the mysterious man who
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surrounds the place with his huge animal. Then I followed the sound trail,
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but it never took me anywhere. In this tour I could notice or at
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least I thought to do some small silhouettes that watched me away, as if
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children playing and hiding from me were treated. I felt watched, stalked,
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I don' t know how to write it, but in itself everything felt
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as if it was within a very vivid dream, but without knowing that this
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itself was a dream. I gave up and felt exhausted. After so much
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walking, so I lay down on the cold ground, but the air gusts
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were very cold and my body was starting to tremble because of the low temperatures,
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so I went to look for a place where I could take refuge from
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the air. I found a place that was sort of like a mausoleum,
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which had no doors, but if a roof and thick concrete walls came up
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there and I threw myself to the floor, thinking that my family at this
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point would already be desperate looking for me. It had been about eight hours
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since I last saw them and it was impossible that they just didn' t
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realize I wasn' t there. I was aware that perhaps the biggest scolding
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of my life was going to touch me, but at that time that question
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was the least for me, because I wanted to get out of that entangled
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place where I was lost. I fell asleep without realizing it, but I
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woke up a schism, something like when you try to talk to someone who
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is a few meters away from you, but you don' t want to
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make noise like a slight wake- up call. At first I thought I
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had imagined it, but then it was repeated and then a third time it
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let me know that someone was actually making that sound, or maybe it was
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the wind. I thought about what woke me up so suddenly and got off
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the ground. Then I saw the top of a head, astonishing and looking
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down the corner of one of the walls of the mausoleum I screamed panic,
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rose up and ran from the place. After walking away several more meters,
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I saw in the direction of where I was lying and that presence was still
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there astonishing and watching. From the distance my legs trembled because of fear and
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cold. I didn' t feel the tip of my fingers. For the
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same reason, I didn' t know which way to run. I also
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didn' t know if what I was seeing there and a ghost or anything
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else, but then my fear intensified. When I saw at least half a
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dozen more of these little beings, who were sticking their heads out from among
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the graves, I ran desperately in the opposite direction to these figures. At
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the distance I heard slight laughter and murmurs lurking in my path. I didn
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' t know where to hide or what to do. He only fled desperately
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because of the fear of the unknown. I also thought of the bad luck
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I had to miss, and not only that in not finding anyone else who
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could help me, the night watchman or anyone else who passed by visiting a
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grave. I was short of breath and stopped to get it back. My
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chest ached from so much running and from inhaling the cold air of the morning
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by then they were already past four in the morning and I knew that in
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a few hours it was going to dawn. Then I' d have a
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better chance of finding someone to help me get out of the place. So,
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again, I sat near a small fence, which was not one of
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the boundaries of the cemetery, but something like a chapel that was half-
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built had walked and run too far. But the strange thing is that I
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' ve never felt so exhausted in my life. After snuggled right off the
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fence, I felt too tired. It was hard for me to raise a
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hand or move any limb a little. My eyes felt heavy and exhausted and
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an inevitable feeling of drowsiness invaded me, so I inevitably fell asleep again I
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woke up. I don' t know how long later, because my cell
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phone had died and I couldn' t see the time anymore. The light
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posts that had embedded the clocks marked five o' clock in the afternoon,
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but it couldn' t be I hadn' t slept so much or or
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or or I could have spent the whole day sleeping in the cemetery, but
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the strange thing is that the sky wasn' t the one I' d
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see tomorrow. It looked like an early sunset that barely fades in warm colors.
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Totally bewildered, I began to walk again, but the feeling I had
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now was completely different. I no longer felt tired or had the weird feeling
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of being inside a dream or something. I felt quite normal, though I
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kept worrying about losing myself and not knowing at what point of the pantheon I
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was at. Then, in the distance, I spotted a group of people,
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apparently carrying out a burial. I ran to them, because sooner or
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later they would leave the place and explaining to them that I had been lost
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since the day before, they would surely let me go out with them.
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My surprise was enormous when I saw that that burial was about my little nephew
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to come and had spent the whole night in the same place, or else,
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that another way was everything like and how it stayed before I left and
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lost myself between the graves. When I came back and saw my family,
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I asked my father yes, why no one had called me or why no
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one sought me for so long. His bewildered gaze was immediate, as he
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told me that he did not think it necessary to do so, as I
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had left only for about ten minutes. I couldn' t believe what my
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father was telling me. But it wasn' t any joke on her face,
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it wasn' t someone' s lying to scare. It was not
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the place or the time to say such things, besides that if I had
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been lost for a whole day, he and my mother were totally exalted so
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I tried to follow his current and tell him that I was right, because
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it was not the place or the time to explain what I had just lived.
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My cell phone reacted again to the ink and I could see that,
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indeed, only a few minutes had passed and the day was still the same.
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According to my phone calendar, I couldn' t believe what had happened
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to me. I was totally shocked that I had that horrible and desperate experience.
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Then I thought of that strange feeling of drowsiness of little lucidity that I
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had when I walked through the lonely graves of the cemetery. I don'
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t know what happened to me or how it happened in such a short time.
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After this, in the year two thousand and twelve, I began to
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know more about the pantheon north of the city. Then I learned about the
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legends, the stories and what had happened to Don Emilio, the wakeman of
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the place. Unfortunately, when I went to look for it, I knew
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that it had already passed away, because its history was extremely old. However,
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it was still only as a legend. To date. I haven'
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t met anyone who happened to her anything similar to what I had the misfortune
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of living. But what I know is that that place, cradle of multiple
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local legends, houses something really scary. I believe that space and time on
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that site are distorted in an incomprehensible way for human beings. It' s
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something I may never understand, but I' m also sure that all this
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has to do with the rituals and ceremonies that the natives of the place performed
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in the territory before that demographic extension was designated to make a cemetery. Cemetery
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which, I am sure, will continue to be the subject of hundreds of
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stories, which will tell people like me, people who were lucky enough to
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survive in the face of the unknown. Anonymous account