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Debí Hacer Caso A Sus Advertencias Y No Pasar Por Esto - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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Ever since I was a kid, I' ve always been interested in scary
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movies and everything that had to do with the paranormal. And even though at
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that time I was very suggestive and afraid of any shadow or thing I thought
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I saw from the corner of my eye, I had never really seen anything
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that had no perfectly logical explanation. I remember as I grew up, one
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of my greatest desires was to see or experience any kind of paranormal thing.
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And even though, as I got to my teens, I was convinced that
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most likely I didn' t have the ability to see those things, I
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was clinging to getting it as it did. And this led me to play
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every game or to make any challenge I saw on the Internet to attract them
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in that way, but the truth none of them served. Until one day
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a colleague from my living room told me we could try to play the rooster.
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He told me that his cousin had bought one of a famous YouTube and
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that we could look on the Internet for a real spiritist session or something So,
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by that moment in our lives, we both had the same dream of
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experiencing something paranormal. I was excited to tell him that was a great idea
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and that we did it. We investigated and although many Internet forums said that
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it was best to go somewhere with a high paranormal activity, the truth was
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we didn' t know one like that and since we were only fifteen years
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old, we knew that it was not a good idea to be in some
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vacant or abandoned land at three o' clock in the morning, as most
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forums indicated, so we decided to do it in my house, because it
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was something safer and if it didn' t work, then we would consider
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going somewhere abandoned. My house was perfect, because my dad didn' t
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mind me getting caught any day, and as he went to work at six
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in the morning, he fell asleep very early. Then we could do it
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during the morning without interruption. When the agreed day finally came, my friend
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Francisco came to my house and waited for the time he said on the page
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and we did everything. I remember we even drew a staff on the floor
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of my room with jiss and even lit candles, but no matter how focused
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we were, we couldn' t make the needle move and nothing happened in
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the room either. My friend made one last attempt saying that if there was
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anything on the other side, it would manifest in any way, and at
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that time my door knob turned and the door opened. My friend was so
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scared that when he tried to back down, he threw a candle that set
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my shirt on fire, although I could turn it off right away so it
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wouldn' t happen to older people. However, it was nothing paranormal that
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did that, but my father, who, as soon as he noticed what
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we were doing, bothered much more than I had seen him in my entire
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life. It was true that there was rarely a horror movie with me,
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but I had never forbidden to see them or had externalized them to dislike me.
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However, at that time he made us pick up everything and told us
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never to do anything like that again. We both obeyed and fell asleep at
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the end, because we didn' t want any more problems and that he
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wouldn' t let me sleep with him anymore. Again and the next morning,
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when my friend was already gone and my dad came back from work,
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he told me he wanted to talk to me. At first I thought he
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wanted to scold me, but instead he told me a story that left me
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thinking. Even as I wrote this, I was aware of several things my
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dad started his story with, like he could only finish elementary school, because
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being from a very poor and large family, my grandparents told him that it
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was already big enough for me to start collaborating with the expenses of the house.
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My dad had no choice but to just accept it and even if he
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denies it because of what he told me, he plunged into a deep depression.
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He says he just cared about working, and he had no friends,
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and he spoke very little. He himself said that at that time he was
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not interested in anything. I only saw the days pass without having a real
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purpose. Nothing excited him or surprised him. It was all like repeating the
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same day over and over again. Although he was only sixteen years old in
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the village where he grew up, there were many legends of apparitions, but
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he had never seen anything, so, for some reason, he began to
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believe that if he experienced something like that he would at least feel something.
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I' ve always believed that because of that he didn' t end up
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taking his life just by wanting to feel something again. There was no dark
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corner to which my father did not venture in his quest for the inexplicable.
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He explored cemeteries and abandoned houses in the hope of meeting face to face with
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any paranormal event, but simply could never witness anything. Like me, on
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one occasion he asked a very kind man for work, who hired him to
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load some trucks with pineapples in the market and that was his job for about
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a week, until that man told him that he could hire him permanently,
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if he was interested. He told her it was heavier than what he was
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doing at the time, as there were more hours and many more trucks,
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but under the promise of better pay, my father accepted the man' s
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offer at the market to work in the cargo hold. For almost a week,
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my dad worked tirelessly in the cellars. Every day he unloaded fruit-
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filled trucks, carefully sorted and packed the products. He tells me it was
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a very good job and the other workers did a very good work environment.
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So much so that he even smiled again even though he still felt something was
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missing. However, there was an inconvenience that made their daily routine difficult.
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The distance. The wineries were located an hour and a half walk from home,
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which meant an exhausting and exhausting walk at the end of each day.
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Despite this, the financial compensation kept him motivated. My dad told me that
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on one occasion, while they were settling the fruit in one of the trucks
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near noon, one of the workers there who had gone to the bathroom,
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came back almost running and very pale and told them all that while he was
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in it he listened to a woman crying outside the bathroom, which was already
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odd, because there were no women employed and he was so far away that
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none of the workers' wives. But he still thought it was someone who
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needed help, so he got out of the bathroom. But when I opened
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the door, there was no one. But he was still listening to the
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cries and this time they seemed to come from one side of the bathroom cubicle.
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Then she looked like a woman. He wore a white nightgown and had
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long black hair. He was on his back and in a fetal position.
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Then the worker asked him if he was okay, but since the woman did
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not answer him and did not stop crying. He touched her shoulder to let
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her know she was there that I could help her. However, when he
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did that, the woman turned her head to look at him, but he
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did not do it in a human way. That man told everyone that that
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woman turned her head completely as if she had no bones. But that wasn
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' t the worst, but his face was disfigured as if he lacked pieces
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of skin. And that' s when the man started running to get back
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to the rest of the group. But as he ran, he kept listening
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to that woman' s cries Dad told me that when that man finished telling
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his story, he laughed, because he could not believe that something like that
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had happened to him in broad daylight. It sounded like a horror movie and
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I just couldn' t believe that that was real, because he saw paranormal
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events more like knocking doors or things falling down, not something as specific as
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that, so he thought he should be trying to fool them. However,
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none of the workers laughed along with him. Not only did they not doubt
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a single word of their history, but everyone there claimed that they had seen
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it. Some also said that I used to wander more around the cellar area,
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but that there was no specific place where you could find it. Some
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said that they had seen her carrying a baby and one of them said that
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he had seen her wring it once he was preparing to leave, but that
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he never said anything, he just cried. No one knew who I was
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and those who had been there the longest said I had been there. Basically
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since that place became cellars, Dad didn' t tell them anything, because
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he thought they' d see a little strange that someone would want to run
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into that thing on purpose. But from that day on, every time he
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was alone he called her, he told her that he wanted to see her
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and that she would appear to him, but no matter how many times she
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did, it seemed that she appeared to everyone but him, and for a
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moment she came to think that it was too common to be able to see
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something that everyone there had seen. At least once a night, when the
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day extended to almost one in the morning, my dad was exhausted and didn
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' t want to face the long way home. That' s when your
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boss proposed an unusual alternative. If I wasn' t afraid of darkness and
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scary stories, I could spend the night in one of the empty cellars.
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My dad accepted almost immediately, because he thought that maybe the whole place was
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empty and without anyone but him there was no chance of not seeing her,
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at least walking around. The wine cellar plunged into total silence. Once they
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all retired, only my father was surrounded by piles of fruit boxes and empty
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shelves. The dim light of a flashlight lit his way as he explored the
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endless corridors. Every noise seemed to be amplified in that great place, but
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I was really very interested in seeing that person everyone was talking about, calling
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her and telling her to appear to her, but again I didn' t
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see anything out of the ordinary. Everything was just as empty cellars would look.
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My dad says that at one point he got frustrated and, instead of
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calling her, he started insulting her and claiming her, because he wouldn'
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t let him Verla says he' s been telling her a lot for several
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minutes, when suddenly, a creak resonated from the bottom of the cellar.
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His pulse accelerated and a wave of adrenaline ran through his body cautiously. He
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approached the origin of the sound and discovered a door leading to an additional section
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generally closed and away from the rest of the warehouse. The door was ajar
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as if someone or something had happened recently. Over there, intrigued and fearful.
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At the same time, my father pushed the door and walked into that
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forgotten place. A dim light filtered through the dirty windows lit up a scene
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of abandonment. The boxes were cluttered and covered with dust, while the objects
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and tools already made are prepared curled on the ground. As he walked down
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the halls, he felt for the first time in his life the feeling that
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someone was watching you in the darkness that so many people had told him about,
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he could feel a penetrating look lodged over him and his steps became more
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cautious. It was then that in the distance he heard an indistinguishable murmur,
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a whisper They were not tears as everyone claimed, and although he could not
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know exactly what he was saying, he knew they were words in Spanish,
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he understood the cold words never and darkness, fear and curiosity mingled within him.
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He decided to walk where the sound came from, believing that maybe someone
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wanted to play a joke on him or maybe it was some radio about to
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die from the lack of batteries. My father moved into a room just carrying
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a flashlight in his hand. What he found there left him breathless. A
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gloomy figure with bright eyes and a sinister smile. I watched it from the
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darkest corner even when I pointed at it with the flashlight, it didn'
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t disappear like a normal shadow. The figure seemed to fade and materialize with
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each blink and, moreover, seemed to be approaching him a little more,
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every blink of an eye. My dad was petrified, unable to look away
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and barely felt he could move again. He ran to the cellar, where
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he was going to keep closing the metal curtain. After all, my dad
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told me that when he was inside the cellar, he was short of breath.
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He could not believe what he had, seeing that he even tried to
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convince himself that all that had happened had been the fruit of his imagination,
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of his desire to live something extraordinary. He lay down on the floor to
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try to calm himself down a bit and perhaps try to sleep, for although
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he kept trying to convince himself that everything had been the fruit of his imagination,
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he no longer had an interest in seeing something paranormal in real life.
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My dad says that happened a summer day, so it was getting really hot.
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That night. He wasn' t wearing a shirt and he was still
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sweating, but he was lucky that there was a crack on the roof.
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Big enough to let some air pass and even though it wasn' t that
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big, if I could see some stars, and that reassured him a little
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while he was immersed in his own thoughts, almost at last, ending up
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convincing himself that he had imagined the moments behind, the silence suddenly broke an
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unmistakable sound of something. Touching the curtain of the cellar where he was,
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it resonated all over the place. My father quickly joined. It was impossible
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for anyone else to be there. The place was closed and he was the
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only present. Fearful and with his voice cut, he asked aloud who was
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there, wishing that the answer came from his boss, but the expectation was
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frustrated by the anguished weeping of a woman who seemed to be on the other
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side of the curtain. Everything was too unreal and creepy. The crying was
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intermingled with the blows on the curtain and my father felt his heart beating with
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force full of a mixture of fear and compassion. I didn' t know
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how to react, but for some reason, my dad kept asking who he
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was even though he knew he couldn' t be his boss. The woman
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did not respond with words, but her persistent weeping filled the space, invading
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every corner of the cellar. My dad says that, although he has never
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been a very empathetic person, for a moment he felt the sadness and despair
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that seemed to manifest that woman' s crying. Fear was taking hold more
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and more of my father, unable to open the curtain remained paralyzed in the
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middle of the cellar, trying to ignore the chills that ran through his spine
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and out of nothing just stopped. They spent a few minutes in tense silence
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until a completely unexpected sound filled the air. The crying of a baby began
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to be heard echoing throughout the void place. Although he did stick his head
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to the wall of the cellar next door, he could almost say it came
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from there. My dad' s never been a particularly religious person. The
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idea of God has never finished convincing him at all, but at that moment,
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because of the fear he felt, he closed his eyes as hard as
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he could and began to pray. However, instead of the sounds ending a
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female voice, he began to sing a lullaby the classic boy sleeps. The
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chill that ran through his back was so intense that he seemed to freeze his
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blood. The voice resonated with a sinister and whispering melody. Wrapping the air
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with a disturbing presence, my dad didn' t know what to do.
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He felt trapped in a maze of darkness and despair. No choice. He
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lay on the cellar floor, waiting for the dawn to come soon and put
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an end to his torture without warning. The baby' s crying turned into
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macabre laughter that seemed to emerge from the same walls. Terror took over my
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father. While listening as the female voice, he uttered his name mockingly as
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if he knew he was terrified. The atmosphere became icy the temperature began to
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drop drastically until his teeth began to tremble and steam came out of his mouth.
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My father desperately tried to ignore the chills that swept through his body,
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focusing on the point on the ceiling that allowed him to see the stars.
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He believed that if he concentrated elsewhere and avoided visual contact with invisible forces,
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everything would disappear. But in the middle of that practice, his eyes opened
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wide when he saw. Like a whitish, transparent figure, he would go
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through the hole in the ceiling. That thing was coming down from the ceiling
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in the direction of my father, going through his body and coming up quickly
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again, coming out through the slit. My dad can only describe that feeling
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as when you fall from a great height, as if your bones crashed into
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the ground. The pain took hold of his body and felt as if all
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the air was expelled from his lungs, motionless on the ground, unable to
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move beyond his eyes, He was immersed in an agony that lasted for endless
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hours. It was not until the workers began to arrive that little by little
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began to regain the mobility of the body. His skin was frozen, but
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he was a little happy to have survived to tell it, because, from
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what he told me sometime in the morning, he thought that that thing could
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come back and he would be totally at his mercy but that didn' t
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happen. He continued to work there after that, but he never slept there
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again, after telling his companions what he lived, No one dared to do
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it. When he finished telling me his story, he told me that the
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reason he was telling me that was because he didn' t want to be
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looking for that kind of thing. I ended up, like him, He
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told me that there are many things in this world that we cannot understand,
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but that it is better to respect them and made me promise that I would
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not keep trying to contact spirits, because I had no idea that I could
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run into them. I' m not going to lie, even though I
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promised you so far. I keep waiting to live something like that, but
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I don' t look for it anymore, because I believe in every word
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in the story of what happened to my dad anonymous story