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¿Bruja O Demonio? - Sólo Sé Que Nadie Está A Salvo - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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I grew up in the countryside the farm belonging to my family, generation after
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generation, since time immemorial. It is usually a nice enough place to live
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and raise children. I hate the city. I prefer to live in a
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place with clean air and the pleasant silence of the night of the countryside.
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He could let some cons pass himself, such as the fact that there is
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not much Internet signal or phones or that in the field things happen that would
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wet anyone' s pants. And this last one, I' m not
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just saying because someone told me. I' m saying this because it happened
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to me at the age of fifteen. Javier was my best friend all over
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the world and although our respective family farms kept us very busy, we always
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found the time to see each other and spend as much time together as we
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could. I was responsible for the goats and sheep s s ns, keeping
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the corral clean, fresh water and alfalfa in the feeder. In my view,
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my work was less heavy than Javier' s. He was in charge
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of milking cows, cleaning pigs and supplying water to his house and cattle.
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For some they may not sound like a heavy task, but when you have
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to walk twenty minutes just go to the nearest well and come back with two
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buckets full of water along the same paved road. I can only say that
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I would like to see anyone try them without spilling a single drop of sweat.
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Very often we entertained ourselves so much together that Javier ended up postponing that
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work until the sun was hidden and he had to walk practically in darkness all
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the way to the well. Most of the times this happened, I used
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to accompany him, but in some others my mother or my own deferred duties
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prevented me from doing so. The night before we both said goodbye around 8
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: 30 p m. My mother did not let me accompany him, because,
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according to her words, they are spending too much time together, which
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was a lie, But my education had been so strict that I did not
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question what she told me. We only said goodbye and each took his own
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path. However, the next morning he came with me, like every afternoon,
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but something in his gaze was different. He told me that, as
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he returned with his fifth and last journey of bringing water, he gave in
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the distance someone sitting on a huge rock that was often used as a rest
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stop for everyone who went for water to the well, so it was not
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unusual for him, even though he did not remember having met someone while he
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was going to the well. From the distance and darkness, it was difficult
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for him to see many traits or who they were, but he could swear
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he had a strange hat. However, as more features of or notice approached,
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he not only realized that he was no one of the people, but
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that he was not a human thing. It was a fur goat between brown
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and Grey. His eyes couldn' t give credit to what he was seeing.
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The goat was sitting on that stone like a person with crossed legs and
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hooves on them. He stared at her with disbelief. He looked so strange,
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but, on the other hand, the animals could act strange sometimes,
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so nothing else wanted to surround her without disturbing her and then tell that story
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as nothing more than a strange moment when suddenly the goat looked back at her,
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He was frozen for a few seconds when he saw her yellowing eyes.
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When he suddenly opened his snout, he uttered a perfectly clear prayer. The
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kids should be sleeping at this hour. At that moment, Javier threw a
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cry of impression, released the two buckets he had in his hands and cut
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saw his house. He didn' t say anything else or chased him,
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but he told me that in the distance he could hear like that goat or
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whatever that thing was, he laughed frantically, of course I believed his story.
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He had never given me reason not to believe in anything that came out
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of his mouth. But even if I believed him, that doesn' t
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change the fact that his parents, they didn' t believe that we had
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both been playing with the water and maybe we had broken the wooden jubetas.
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And then Javier had invented that goat story so he wouldn' t take responsibility.
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I accompanied him to find the buckets so that at least his parents wouldn
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' t take away the little money they gave him a week to replace the
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buckets. However, we only find one between grass and weed. The second
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if it was there, but it was torn to pieces as if an animal
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had trampled it to the ground. There were some traces of goat hooves between
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the earth and the mud, but nothing. Besides that, after that day,
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whenever I knew that I could not accompany him, we said goodbye much
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earlier so that he could go even when the sunlight was on his side,
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but no matter how many times I accompanied him I could never see any goat
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on that road. Just two weeks later I found something. It wasn'
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t a strange paranormal experience or anything that made me run away unsavory from the
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place. It was a brown and greyish fur goat with yellow eyes. He
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wasn' t acting in a strange way He was just there grazing his behavior.
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It was nothing different from my fifteen goats I had on the farm.
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However, something if it was a bit peculiar. I' ve never seen
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that goat in town before. Being in charge of caring for the goats of
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my family, I had had the opportunity to see all the goats of the
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neighbors and people around and knew that none had a goat with those characteristics and
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the thought that it could be Silvestre was, moreover, a nonsense in the
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village. There wasn' t that kind of wildlife. If you could add
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it to your farm, then you took it I approached it cautiously so that
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I could observe it better. She was pretty meek, which confirmed she couldn
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' t be Silvestre. I looked her up for some clue that would tell
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me who it could be. I knew all the marks people in town used
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to mark their cattle. So, that way I could know who it was
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and take it with its owners. It was dangerous for such a meek goat
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to be alone in the middle of the pasture, for there were coyotes in
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the area who would not hesitate to attack a solitary goat. He had nothing,
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no tattoo, no scar. It wasn' t anybody' s,
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at least not from someone in town I decided to take her home. They
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' re already there. I' d ask the neighbors if they' d
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bought a goat that wouldn' t have given them time to dial before they
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got away. However, no one seemed to own that goat, no matter
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how much I walked around the village touching farm by farm. I considered going
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to the next town to ask. However, my dad told me that he
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had done the right thing by asking the neighbors and all that, but that
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if someone in the next town had lost an unmarked goat and didn' t
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have the time to look for it nearby, he was most likely left over
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head of cattle and wasn' t interested enough in looking for a single goat,
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so he suggested I stay with her. That was very logical. Besides,
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everyone in town already knew that I had found a goat and looked for
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the owner. If someone in the next town asked any of his friends if
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we hadn' t seen a goat, then I' d give it to
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him without any problem. But the real problem happened when I tried to put
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the goat in the corral along with the others. I' ve been practically
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my whole young life on that. I knew how to introduce new species into
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the corral, but this time it didn' t matter how I did it.
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The goats were simply unhappy with the new one, altered them and tried
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to attack her, so I had no choice but to make a corral especially
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for her. For some reason I don' t know to this day I
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could feel some kind of connection with that goat. He was a very curious
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boy and always gave my animals funny and picturesque names. However, while trying
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to come up with some funny name, the ideas just didn' t come
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to me. Two days after I decided to stay with her during a dream,
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I saw the goat in her new pen and she said to me with
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a female and adult voice my name is Rosaura, so the next day I
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started referring to her by that name. Such was my connection to her,
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that I did not have the courage to mark her with a red- hot
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iron, as we did with all our cattle. I only made him a
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necklace with slats and bells where I wrote his name with indelible marker. My
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parents told me I was crazy about giving that goat such a special treatment,
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but I was hiding out saying that if the owner ever came after her,
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I didn' t think it was right for me to find her marked by
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another family. However, deep inside of me I knew it was because I
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didn' t want anything bad to happen to Javier he didn' t like.
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He said that he was almost identical to the goat he had seen when
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he went for water and worried about how. I was very determined to say
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that I was a good animal and that I would not get rid of it.
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It was about a year when my concern that Rosaura' s real owner
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would come one day and take her away disappeared. Anyone who had lost her
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was sure that she was dead by that time. I remember one night my
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dad heard strange noises with the sheep, thinking it was a coyote. He
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went to investigate with a shotgun in his hand. He came back with a
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pale face claiming that Rosaura had called him by his name. I didn'
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t believe him and my mom just tried to make him see the logical side,
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which was that, perhaps among so many mottled and valid, his brain
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tried to give him a sense that made him think he heard his name,
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but it wasn' t that way. My dad seemed to want to convince
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himself that was the most likely explanation. However, his performance in the following
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days, avoiding Rosaura and even completely surrounding her corral so as not to run
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into her, implied that it was more than obvious than anything within him.
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He knew perfectly well what he heard and saw that night. After that day,
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some people in the village began to relate it to him. How in
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the early morning they had seen a sick goat walking on two legs in a
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very humane way said that he seemed not to mind being seen, but quite
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the opposite. He seemed to have an unhealthy pleasure in scaring the people of
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the village. Everyone who had seen it claimed that it was of the same
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colors and appearance as rose. However, I strongly refused to believe that that
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was possible. Until an early morning when I returned to my home, Javier
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and I had spent the afternoon and much of the night at the village fair
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and we had lost track of time. I walked into the Farm trying to
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make as little noise as possible. I knew they would scold me for not
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coming back at the time they told me, but I wanted to postpone it
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until the next day, so I decided to go all the way around the
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goat pens to avoid going through the window of my parents' room the closer
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I went to the pens the more I could notice that the animals were quite
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upset. I had grown up on that farm for fifteen years to know what
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the behavior of animals is at night. I didn' t mean to make
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it any more important. I figured it might be because I was passing by.
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So I decided to speed up the pace a little bit. When suddenly
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I saw her, the goat that had half a town terrified, walked on
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two legs with an upright posture very similar to the human one, hummed with
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a female voice the tune of the hymn to joy. I was petrified for
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a couple of minutes. My eyes couldn' t believe what they were seeing.
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The goat was pushing the lock of his corral with his hoof to enter
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and then did the same to close it. He then stepped back on all
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fours as if he were an ordinary goat. After thinking about it for a
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few seconds, he was still on his way. For a moment I thought
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maybe the half glass of beer we had shared Javier and I had been enough
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to make me hallucinate was too young to know what it felt like to really
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be under the effects of alcohol. I walked as natural as possible without taking
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off the gaze of the corral of Rosaura. She stared at me like nothing
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had happened. He chewed some alfalfa he still had in his feeder. When
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she suddenly winked at me, I ran home and didn' t stop until
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I was in my room that night. I didn' t just sleep in
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bed watching the way to the pens as if I expected Rosaura to walk out
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on two legs. From there on my quest I haven' t told anyone
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until now. You may call it crazy, but something inside of me.
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I just wanted to keep taking care of her and not let anything bad happen
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to her. And if he said what he had seen, coupled with the
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moods that were already around the neck, surely Rosaura would end up murdered in
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the hands of the locals. Besides, outside of scaring people, I had
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never done any real harm and maybe my plan to just ignore it would have
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worked. If not because Javier' s father saw her. A couple of
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months later, Javier and I had spent their whole birthday together at my house
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as a gift from their parents. He wouldn' t have to do any
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farm chores. It' s Eria so he helped me make mine to finish
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early and we were both together until late at night. Our plan was to
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make time for it to get so late that Javier could call his parents to
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stay at my house, but his father would not allow it. He told
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us that he touched the doorbell several times, but it seemed not to work,
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so with the confidence that only neighbors and friends of all life can have,
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he opened the gate lock and entered the farm to knock directly on the
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door and tell his son it was time to go home, when suddenly he
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saw her leave the cornfield. Unlike me, it didn' t take him
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more than two seconds after he saw her to throw a scream of pure dread
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and run out to our house. He played desperately until my mother opened him
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up. He put it in and he told us everything. My dad aware
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that something weird was going on with that goat, he said that to the
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point of getting out, the sun would go to his pen and kill her.
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At that time I didn' t have the courage to tell my father
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not to, especially because I didn' t really have any valid point.
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In my favor, that goat was not a common animal and who knows that
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evil could bring him to the village that night, neither my friend nor his
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father had the courage to return home. We were both so nervous about recent
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events that we couldn' t even be happy. That' s why I
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couldn' t help but feel bad for the fate that was waiting for Rosaura
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at dawn. I thought I might be smart enough not to go back to
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the farm after I scared my best friend' s father, but something inside
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of me knew that wouldn' t happen that way. Rosaura always returned to
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the farm, even if people had seen her a couple of hours before Dawn.
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I put on courage and told Javier how I felt and that I didn
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' t think it was bad at all. All I asked him was not
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to turn me in. He agreed to go with me, although he told
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me that if he got aggressive, he would bury a beak in his head.
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We both went down the window with great caution, as it was a
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second floor. We had to do so, as our parents had decided to
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stand guard on both doors for fear that that thing might attack them and anyone
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living in that house. We went through the pens until we got to Rosaura
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' s. She was there just like I thought she' d be.
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He looked at us with those yellow eyes. I opened the corral and told
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him to leave. I pushed her, but she refused to leave the corral.
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However, the moment I told her they were planning to kill her in
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the morning, she looked back a little, stared at us both for a
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few seconds and finally ran out of the corral as fast as she had ever
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seen her run. I didn' t know how to feel about it.
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After that day, no one in the village again had any sightings of that
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goat who walked on two legs and eventually became only a legend that the oldest
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told the younger ones so that they would not return home so late. My
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parents died to my thirty years and Javier' s parents shortly after that,
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being both sole heirs of the lands, of our parents an gone our farms,
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to this day, I have never seen any animal act that way again.
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Nor have rumors of anything similar to what happened with Rosaura been generated in
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the village. I always began to think about whether that being was a witch,
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a gual or a demon himself who had no intention of making any bad
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anonymous account.