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Agatha Y Su Muñeco Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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Many years ago, when I was just a little girl, my parents hired
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a housekeeper named Agatha to help with household chores. Agata was an older woman,
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known in the village for her reputation as Witch. People talked about their
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strange rituals and their connection to the world of the supernatural. However, coming
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from the city, my parents did not believe in those superstitions and decided to
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give it a chance. At first glance, Agata seemed like a normal woman.
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During the day, he diligently dealt with household chores and behaved cordially.
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However, when the night fell and we found ourselves alone in the house or
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when she believed that no one was watching her behavior, it became somewhat disturbing.
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One of the strangest things I noticed was his fascination with ancient and mysterious
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objects in his room, which he always kept locked. He kept a collection
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of strange artifacts, amulets, scrolls, crystals and other objects that he was
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completely unaware of. He often saw her examining them carefully, muttering words quietly
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as if she were performing some kind of ritual. Despite the strange behaviors agata
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manifested in private, he continued to work for our family for several years.
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During that time it became a constant presence in our lives and somehow became indispensable
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for the functioning of the house. Although we never went into details about his
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collection of mysterious objects. His work as a housekeeper was efficient and reliable.
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However, as often happens, difficult times reached our family. My father lost
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his job and we find ourselves united in monetary problems. It was at that
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time that my parents made the difficult decision to fireÁgatah Although she seemed to
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understand the situation, I could notice a bit of discomfort in her eyes.
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After Agatha was dismissed, the house was empty of her presence. One day,
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however, while my parents were away, I heard a knock on the
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front door. When I opened I met Agata standing in front of me with
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a quiet expression, but something mysterious. She explained that she had returned to
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the house because she had left some belongings in her old room and wanted to
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pick them up. Although I was surprised by her unexpected visit, I decided
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to let her in, as I remembered her as an important part of our
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lives for so many years and even though my parents had always told me that
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she would not let strangers come home. This one wasn' t about any
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strangers. While Agata was looking for her belongings in her old room. We
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started a brief conversation. He seemed fine and didn' t mention anything about
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his life. After his departure. However, something in her eyes made me
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feel that there was something else behind her visit. Before saying goodbye, Agata
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took something out of her purse and handed me an antique- looking doll.
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It was a hand- made, delicate- looking baby doll. It was
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a doll with plump cheeks, soft hair and strange green, round, transparent
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eyes that never closed. I was grateful for your gesture, although I was
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surprised by the gift. The doll was beautiful, but it had a strange
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and mysterious aura. His glass eyes seemed to follow me with a look and
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a chilling sensation. He toured my back. Although I felt a little restless.
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I accepted the gift and promised to take care of it. After handing
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over, theÁgata doll said goodbye and walked away from the house without saying
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another word. My parents noticed how strange the doll' s gift was from
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Ágataha. Although they found it disturbing, they decided not to intervene, as
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they saw me happy with him. The doll became my favorite toy and spent
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hours playing and caring for him, although sometimes his realism scared me a little
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bit still, something in him made me love him very much, although I
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never named him, just called him Baby. I played with him all day
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and we hardly ever parted. However, everything changed. On the day of
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my eleventh birthday, we organized a party at home and several children of my
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age attended while we were playing. Some of them noticed that I still had
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the doll and started making fun of me. They laughed and called me childish
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for still playing with dolls. At my age. I felt a mixture of
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shame and sadness and decided that I no longer wanted the doll to be in
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sight. I approached my mother and told her I didn' t want him
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anymore. Her. Noting my anguish, he comforted me and understood my decision.
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We kept the doll in a box and took it to the basement,
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where it would be hidden from the eyes of others. As the days passed,
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the presence of the doll in the basement seemed to weigh on me.
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Sometimes I heard strange noises coming from that part of the house and a sense
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of restlessness took over me as I passed by the basement door. However,
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I repeated to myself that I had made the right decision. Little by little,
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the doll was forgotten in the basement cunr cur de erndo by layers of
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dust and time. The years passed and I grew up, leaving childhood behind
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and delving into adolescence. One day, my mom came to pick me up
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from school as usual, but this time she had a serious look on her
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face. He told me someone had come into the house and smashed my computer,
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where I used to chat. Me. I was very sad and wondered
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who would have been to blame. The anguish took over my mother when she
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came to pick me up from school that day. His face reflected concern and
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fear and soon told me what had happened at home. Someone had come in
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while we were away and caused destruction. My computer, among other things,
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was completely destroyed. The police found no signs of forced entry, which left
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them perplexed and without clues to follow, we felt vulnerable and frightened without understanding
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how someone had managed to enter without leaving any trace. Uncertainty and fear settled
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in our daily lives. That night, while I was still in my room
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with the bitter taste of what happened, I noticed something out of place.
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As I crouched by my bed, I discovered a little cloth shoe hidden under
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it. I immediately recognized that little shoe as part of the doll' s
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outfit that I had kept in the basement years ago. Despite how weird it
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was for me, I thought I wouldn' t go over it, as
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I thought maybe it could be anything else without mentioning that I had more important
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things to think about, to worry about that, seeing that those events affected
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me enough to distract me. My mom allowed me to invite my friend Lucy
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to sleep at home. It was the night my parents celebrated their anniversary and
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went out for dinner. After snacking, Lucy and I went up to my
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room to play memory. We were very entertaining when suddenly we heard a noise
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coming from the basement. It was like boxes were falling down and then we
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heard the basement door open and close. Perhaps one of the windows in the
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basement had remained open and the wind had caused that commotion. We thought we
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were done playing and went to bed without giving it more importance. Suddenly we
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heard a complaint coming from the ladder, as if someone was climbing up my
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heart accelerated and a chill ran through my back. At that moment I felt
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someone pressing my arm hard. With the light of the corridor I could distinguish
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the figure of Baby standing at the threshold of my room, moved by him.
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The fear lit the light of my bedside table. When I crouched,
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I felt the blood freezing in my veins I saw something moving under the blankets.
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Baby was dirty and her clothes were torn and torn. His shirt hung
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in shreds and his pants had a big hole under one of his legs there
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were signs of being gnawed by mice. His face was no longer pink,
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but yellow. He was missing an eye and one of his boots was shattered.
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I couldn' t believe what I saw. Baby looked at me with
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her only eye and a dirty tear ran through her cheek. Then all of
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a sudden he jumped on the bed, on Lucy. At that time I
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realized that I had been the one who had destroyed my jealous computer, because
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I no longer paid attention to it or played with it. Now I was
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going to attack my friend. Even though it' s just a doll.
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He possessed an enormous force, for for a moment he really believed that he
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would be free from love. We cling to him and push him with all
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our might, succeeding in throwing the doll away from us. He disappeared into
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the darkness of the room, plunged into the shadows. Soon after, my
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parents returned home. I told them what had happened, but they didn'
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t believe my story. They thought it was just the fruit of my imagination
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or an exaggerated nightmare. However, they went up to the attic to make
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sure the baby was there, but found no trace of the doll. The
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days passed and I didn' t know anything else about the doll. It
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seemed that everything had returned to normal, although the feeling of fear and mistrust
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was still latent in my mind. Every little noise or shadow reminded me of
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that terrifying encounter with the doll. Sometimes I woke up startled in the middle
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of the night, convinced that I had heard whispers or passed by my bed.
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Even though he was trying to persuade me it was just my imagination.
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Fear persisted one night. While sleeping peacefully, I was awakened by my dog
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' s incessant barking. The sounds became louder and more distressing. At the
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same time, I heard a baby crying. My heart accelerated and I got
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up from a jump following the sound. As I entered the hallway, I
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realized that the tears came from the basement. Fear took hold of me,
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but my curiosity prompted me to investigate. I went down the shaky stairs and
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opened the basement door. What I saw iced me the blood baby was there
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crying inconsolably. His appearance was even more deteriorated than before. I had a
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lost and desperate look. I approached cautiously and extended my hand to touch him,
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but at the last moment I held something in his gaze warned me not
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to get too close. I closed the basement door and returned to my room
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trembling with fear and confusion. The next day we looked for my dog all
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over the house, but we found no trace of him. He just disappeared
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without a trace. From that day on I began to see his figure in
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every corner of my house. A quick look in the hallway and there he
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was freaking out by the corner in the living room. His inexpressive eyes seemed
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to observe me from an empty chair, even in the darkness of the night,
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I could distinguish his silhouette in the wave of shadows in my room.
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The most disturbing thing was that, even though no one else was home,
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some neighbors were telling me that someone was waving at him from the top window.
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They could not see clearly who he was, but claimed he seemed to
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be a very young child. Every time I heard those stories, I felt
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a chill running around my back. My parents were trying to reassure me by
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telling me that everything was the product of my imagination and that that doll no
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longer existed. However, I knew the truth. He kept stalking me from
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the shadows, stalking my home and those who dared to approach. In the
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following days, baby appearances became more frequent and disturbing. Every time I saw
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him. It felt like his presence invaded me, generating an atmosphere of terror
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in the house. His glassy eyes followed me two and two everywhere and his
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childish laughter resounded in my ears. Even when I knew there was no one
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closer, I tried to tell my parents about the apparitions, but their skepticism
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was still evident. They thought my imagination was playing tricks on me or that
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the stress of recent events was affecting my sanity. They didn' t want
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to admit that something supernatural or evil could be happening in our home. Meanwhile,
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strange phenomena intensified, objects disappeared and appeared in unexpected places. The murmurs
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and childish laughter became more audible and sometimes I could feel a cold and hostile
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presence near me. My nights were filled with nightmares and abrupt awakenings, not
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knowing if it was product of my mind or if Baby was behind everything.
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The nights were the worst. I often woke up with a feeling of being
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watched just to find Baby' s disturbing eyes fixed on me. His presence
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was suffocating as if he were waiting for the right moment to collect his revenge.
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As time passed, Baby' s shadow began to affect my mental health.
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My nights were filled with horrible nightmares and my mind was clouded with dark,
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paranoid thoughts. I felt trapped in an endless cycle of terror and anguish.
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After so much terror and anguish, one day I came back from school
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and found an empty house. There was no sign of my parents or any
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other family member. The sense of loneliness took over me. As I walked
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through the silent corridors. As I was heading towards my room, I began
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to hear an unmistakable sound. The crying of a baby. The sobs were
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weak and hurtful, but filled the air with a feeling of desolation and sadness.
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The sound came from the basement, that dark and terrifying place, which
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housed so many secrets. Despite my fear, I felt the need to investigate.
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I went down the stairs cautiously, following the sound that led me to
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the origin of the cries. Each step was a disturbing echo in the silence
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of the house. When I got to the basement, the door was slightly
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open. A lusten leaked from the inside, illuminating the path to the unknown.
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I gathered the necessary courage and pushed the door slowly, revealing the scene
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that awaited me. There, in a dark corner of the basement, there
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was a small lump, which twisted through the floor as I cried for a
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moment, the fear invaded me, but that crying was different. No or
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r r did not generate the same terror as that cry that had tormented me
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for so long. This one sounded pitiful almost as if he asked for help.
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I don' t doubt it. This was a real baby. I
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approached with caution, unable to turn away the gaze of that baby who seemed
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to need help, took the child in my arms and hugged him tenderly,
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trying to calm his sobs. My arms wrapped the unknown baby tenderly, but
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as the moments passed I began to feel as his weight became increasingly overwhelming.
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Pressure increased as if an invisible force wanted to drag it down. A disquieting
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sensation seized me and my eyes met the baby' s. The most disturbing
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thing was the change in his physical appearance. Her skin was worn and withered,
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revealing veins and bones that looked beneath her earlier perfect teeth. Now they
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were loosening and falling one by one, leaving dark holes in their mouth.
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Despite this, his smile remained broad and grotesque, showing a mouth full of
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bleeding gums. In case that scene wasn' t shocking enough, at one
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point, he seemed to want to gesture words, but when he tried to
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speak, he was only able to emit a mixture of crying and guttural eavesdropping.
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Their attempts to communicate became increasingly desperate and heartbreaking, filling the air with
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a terrifying sound. Fear almost instinctively took over me. I let the baby
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out of my arms recede horrifiedly before the disturbing vision that had rebelled before me.
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The baby was now twisting on the floor, emitting a macabre laugh resounding
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in the basement. He was running up the stairs. Desperate to get away
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from or that abomination. Every step I took felt like a struggle against an
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invisible force that wanted to keep me trapped. Finally, I managed to get
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out of the basement and shut the door behind me, trying to block the
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horrors my parents had witnessed. Those who were coming home at that time,
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alarmed by my screams and the noise coming from the basement, quickly came to
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meet me. I told them what had happened, but they understood it was
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useless to look for the baby. Again they knew that something sinister was hiding
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in our home and that we should protect ourselves. We decided to leave that
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house, leaving behind the terrors that had haunted us for so long. We
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moved to another place, away from the evil presence of Baby and her disturbing
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apparitions. The most disturbing thing was that, despite moving around every time no
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one else was home, some neighbors were telling me that they were listening to
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baby cries coming from our house. Sometimes they were distressing and heartbreaking tears as
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if a child were suffering. They even called the police several times, but
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when the cries came, they stopped and found no trace of a baby in
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the house. I learned to live with this strange presence that seemed to follow
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me everywhere. I tried to ignore baby crying and baby sightings, but the
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feeling of restlessness and fear never completely disappeared. The years passed and when I
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finally had a partner and wanted to form a family, I couldn' t
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get pregnant. Despite medical reports that there was no physical motive for my infertility,
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I knew in the depths of my being that it had something to do
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with agate and porcelain doll. In time I came to accept that this was
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my agate reality, It was part of my life, a constant presence that
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could not be ignored. I decided if I couldn' t get rid of
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it, then I had to learn to live in Harmony, with its disturbing
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influence. Anonymous account