Latest / Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von / Las Voces Me Decían Que Les Hiciera Daño - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche

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Las Voces Me Decían Que Les Hiciera Daño - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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The memories of my childhood are not as pleasant as I am. I'
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d like to count. Maybe that' s why I don' t have
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many memories of it. I know we used to move a lot because we
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didn' t have a place of our own. That was also the reason
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my mother worked hard and I had to take care of my younger brothers many
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times. The wind whispered with a disturbing melody as we dislodged our belongings in
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that old house. My family had been forced to move because of our precarious
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economic situation. The house was offered to us free of charge with the only
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condition to keep it clean and in good condition. Although at first it seemed
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like an opportunity we couldn' t refuse. We would soon discover that this
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house kept dark secrets that would threaten our sanity. From the first day we
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arrived, a strange feeling of discomfort took over me. I remember very well
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that while unpacking my things in my new room, I heard a whispering voice
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calling me from the closet. At first I thought he was one of my
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brothers playing a joke of bad taste. However, as I approached the closet
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cautiously so that I could turn the joke around, I realized that the voice
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did not resemble that of any of them. With a lot of fear,
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I questioned who was there. The silence answered me doubted for a moment,
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but finally I gathered the courage to open the cupboard wide enough To my surprise,
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I found absolutely nothing inside. The closet was empty, with no sign
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of any presence. I thought that maybe I had imagined the voice, that
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it had been only an illusion product of tiredness, travel and unpacking. But,
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unfortunately, this was only the beginning of a series of strange events that
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would challenge any logical explanation. At night, the house came to life with
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disturbing sounds. The steps resounded in the hallway. When we were all in
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our rooms, the doors opened and closed for no apparent reason and the objects
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moved on their own. My mother, trying to calm our fears, told
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us that everything was the product of the age of the house and the changes
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in temperature. But as much as I tried to believe my mother. I
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knew there was something darker lurking between its walls. One night while I was
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sleeping deeply, I was awakened by a chilling whisper near my ear slowly opened
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my eyes and found a dark and menacing shadow leaning over me. With just
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the ability to do a few words, I questioned who the figure was.
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He remained silent, but his presence was overwhelming. I felt a paralyzing fear
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that ran through every part of my body. Then, with a quick move,
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the shadow disappeared, leaving me trembling in my bed. After that chilling
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experience, I was more than convinced that there was something very wrong with that
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house. The atmosphere throughout the house became even heavier and oppressive. I felt
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as if a malevolent presence was thrown into every corner and the feeling that something
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was watching every one of my movements became overwhelming. He preferred to spend most
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of his time outside the house, looking for any excuse to escape from that
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dark and terrifying environment. One day, while playing in the backyard, I
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decided to dig an improvised tunnel so that my toy cars could pass under the
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ground. While digging enthusiastically, my hands hit something hard and metallic. It
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was a deep buried box, but I didn' t give up until I
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dug it up. When I finished digging it up, I discovered an old
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rusty lunch box closed with an old padlock. My curiosity woke up and I
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decided to break the lock, which, to tell the truth, was very
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simple. It was enough to kick it a couple of times so this one
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would break easily. When I opened the lunch box, I found a set
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of discolored photographs of an old man with a penetrating look. His face conveyed
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a mixture of sadness and malice. Next to the photographs there was a sinister
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- looking rag doll, it looked hand- made and displayed a strange and
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unpleasant aroma. That combination was disturbing to me, but I quickly lost interest
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and put the lunch box aside to contrast with my games. That night,
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however, I woke up with a strong smell of moisture and mold filling the
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room, reminding me of the peculiar scent emanating from the rag doll. My
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eyes adjusted to the darkness and with fear I inspected my room. That'
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s when I saw it an ominous shadow was drawn on the abbreviated door of
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my room, which had only a thin curtain as a barrier. I remember
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with a lot of fear even though I whispered with a thread of voice waiting
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for some guy to come visiting unexpectedly, but I just waited for an answer
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that never came. I covered myself with blankets up to my head trying to
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hide from the darkness and any threats that might have lurked in the shadow.
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Finally, exhausted, I fell asleep hoping that everything was just a passing nightmare.
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When I woke up the next day, I tried to forget the dreaded
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one. Laity experience of the night before I told myself that everything had been
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the product of my imagination and that there was nothing to fear. However,
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the feeling of discomfort persisted in the atmosphere of the house as if terror had
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permeated the walls and furniture. The sun was shining in my room, but
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I quickly discovered something was wrong. I felt a sharp discomfort on my back
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and as I looked in the mirror, I found a human bite, red
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and painful. Terror seized me as I tried to understand what had happened.
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There was no logical explanation for that wound and the only conclusion I could draw
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was that something supernatural and evil had left its mark on me. After discovering
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the bite on my back, I decided to remain silent and not tell anyone
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about what had happened. Like the older brother, I did not want to
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worry my mother even more, who was already anxious to arrive at the end
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of the month. I didn' t want to add supernatural problems to your
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concern. Although fear invaded me. I was trying to look normal and keep
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a face of bravery. Days and nights passed and every day the strange events
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of my person in that house became more and more terrifying. The whispers and
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disturbing sounds intensified and shadow appearances became more frequent. It didn' t matter
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how hard I tried to ignore them. Fear kept growing deep in my being
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I wondered what that evil presence of us wanted, why I had chosen myself
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as a victim of its dark influence. In spite of everything, I kept
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silent, because I really thought I could do that on my own. One
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day, when I returned from school, I spotted my younger sister in the
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distance near the pile of water. That particularly caught my attention, as the
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only one who was authorized by my mother to approach the pile was me,
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as I said that someone could easily fall into it. I blamed myself,
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because a few days ago I had taught my sister how to make paper boats
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and I thought I might be testing them in the pile. However, the
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closer I got to something seemed to be wrong. She looked desperate with her
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head submerged in the water and struggling to pull it out. I accelerated the
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pace, feeling something supernatural was happening. When I finally got close enough,
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I was horrified to see that a mysterious force prevented my sister from pulling her
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head out of the water pile. I shouted his name and threw myself into
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his help by fighting an invisible resistance. While trying to free her from that
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malevolent presence. With one last effort, my sister finally managed to lyre and
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emerged coughing and struggling to breathe fresh air. I remember we went home as
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I tried to question him what had happened, but he was in such a
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state of fear that he could do nothing but cry every time he tried to
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explain to me. Once he calmed down enough, he told me in sobs
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what had happened. He told me he was playing mud cakes, so he
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decided to go get some water. He tells me that a little before arriving
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at it, an old man stood by the pile. This sinister- looking
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old man, which scared him very much, but when he was about to
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enter the house, he told him that there were colorful fish in the pile
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and that if he looked out he could see the fish. That offer made
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Him completely forget his fear, for my sister loves any kind of animal,
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so innocently, following her childish curiosity, she did. But at the time
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of her head, the old man took her by the back of her head
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and plunged her into the pile, denying her the chance to breathe. This
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also told me that it was not the first time I had seen that old
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man, as he had previously dreamed of him. After the dark events,
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I questioned that if that man had made himself present to my sister, I
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would surely have done so to my other brothers. So I decided to ask
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my brothers if they had experienced something similar or in their absence, if they
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had found something like that lunch box that I had found days before. It
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was then that one of them, visibly nervous, revealed a secret he had
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kept silent. He told us that he had been having strangers, dreams and
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nightmares, even sometimes still awake. He heard voices which he ordered to hurt
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us or hurt himself and one night he woke up with a cutter in his
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hand about to cut himself in his leg. A chill swept through our bodies.
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Hearing their revelation, the supernatural events around us seemed to affect us in
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different and frightening ways. From that moment on, I intensified my efforts to
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care for my brothers, but it seemed that the darkness that was hovering over
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our house always found a way to torment us. However, that spectral being
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seemed to have become more enthralled with me than with the rest of my brothers,
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for, in addition to what had happened to my little sister, the
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old man seemed only to be present to the rest in dreams or spontaneously as
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a shadow. However, there was an attack, in particular which even to
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this day, I preserve both physical and emotional scars. One night in particular,
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I woke up with an urgent need to go to the bathroom. That
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night I remember perfectly how particularly silent it was. All that caused me discomfort
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and fear. But finally, the call of nature was much stronger. I
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got out of bed there, taking the first step, a sharp pain swept
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through my body. As I looked down, I realized that the whole floor
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of my room was covered with studs and broken glass. Hundreds of small sharp
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objects had been buried in my feet, causing me serious injuries. The pain
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was unbearable, but I knew I needed to get help, crawling with difficulty.
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I went to my mother' s room desperately seeking her assistance. I
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remember that I also buried some glass in my hands, because the whole floor
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was filled with those sharp objects. Still, that didn' t stop me.
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I was determined to arrive with my mother, I remember with terror.
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As I was doing, I could hear a sinister laugh resounding in the air.
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It was the laughter of an old man, an evil presence that could
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perceive his shadows casting in the distance. Finally, I came to my mother
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' s room and knocked on her door in despair. By opening his face,
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he reflected the terror and concern that wounded me that way. However,
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there was no time for detailed explanations. I quickly told her what had happened
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and she helped me clean the wounds and heal the deep cuts. While my
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mother was tending to my wounds, I could feel the heavy and dark atmosphere
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that enveloped our house. It seemed that the evil that haunted us had intensified,
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feeding on our fear and weakness. We began to question whether we would
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ever find a way to escape this nightmare that had trapped us. My mother
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assumed that one of my brothers had broken my bedroom window. That was the
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explanation for the broken glass. As the days passed, terrifying events became more
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frequent and disturbing shadows, moving through the walls, disturbing whispers filled the air
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and object. They were moving mysteriously without any logical explanation. The presence of
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the old man became more tangible. His macabre laughter resounded in our ears and
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his shadow seemed to be always lurking. My heart was pounding as I fell
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into a deep sleep, but that night something disturbing was waiting for me in
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my own bedroom. I opened my eyes slowly and saw sitting on the edge
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of my bed the old man who had been harassing us were ruthless, full
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of evil and in a moment fell upon me, wrapping his hands around my
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neck. I fought desperately to free myself, feeling my breath escape from my
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lungs. The old man' s macabre laughter filled the room, torturing my
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mind as I struggled for my life just as I was about to lose consciousness.
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Suddenly, the old man released me and disappeared into darkness. When I
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woke up the next day, I decided to investigate more about the history of
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our house. Digging through the boxes that belonged to the previous owner, I
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found an old newspaper detailing a horrific crime that had taken place in that same
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house. The headline revealed that an elderly man had carried out a series of
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murders by suffocating and hanging his victims. Terror seized me When I related the
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facts to the experiences we had suffered in the hope of finding support in my
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mother, I approached her and showed her the newspaper. However, she rejected
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my concerns and suggested that all were mere suggestions. Moreover, or RS reminded
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us that we could not afford to move elsewhere because of our economic constraints.
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The next night, while all my brothers and I were watching TV, it
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suddenly went out. The old man' s laughter resonated in every corner of
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the house, filling the air with his evilness. The objects began to fall
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and fly off the shelves. While chaos invaded our abode without thinking about it.
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Twice I took my brothers and ran out to the nearest neighbor' s
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house. Our hearts beat hard as we sought refuge in a safe place.
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The shadow of the old man seemed to haunt us by feeding on our fear
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and pushing us to the limit of sanity. Terror and confusion consumed us as
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we approached the limit of our sanity. Our mother returned from work meeting the
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house in n in the neo chaotic state. Instead of understanding our anguish,
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he rebuked us believing that we had been responsible for destroying the home. Desperately,
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we decided to tell her all our experiences, to explain to her the
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frightening events we had witnessed and suffered, but she did not believe us.
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Our mother thought we were making up stories to cover up our actions, suggesting
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that the wounds on our bodies had been caused by ourselves during some fight.
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It was painful to face her disbelief, but we could not blame her.
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The evil that haunted our house was subtle and manipulative, hiding its claws behind
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an apparent normality. However, the day came when our mother found herself at
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home alone while we were all at school. He was washing clothes when he
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heard a strange sound coming from nearby and intrigued bushes he decided to investigate and
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approached cautiously. Suddenly a grotesque and horrifying animal emerged from the bushes, similar
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to a lampine rat, but much larger than a cat. His fangs were
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long and sharp and he seemed rabid. My mother screamed in terror for her
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horror. Behind the animal arose an old man with a emaciated appearance. The
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man issued an order to the animal that immediately fell upon it, biting its
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tender and causing serious wounds. Our mother fought bravely, but the attack was
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brutal. Years later, our mother revealed this story to us explaining why she
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had never revealed it. The wounds. As a result of that meeting in
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the hospital, they were attributed to an alleged attack by a rabid dog.
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Our mother chose to keep the hidden truth afraid of being considered crazy and taken
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from her children, but in her heart she knew that there was something more
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sinister lurking in that house. After that incident, our days in that house
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came to an end. We moved into a new home away from the shadows
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that had tormented our lives. Each of us bore the physical and emotional scars
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of those horrors lived. But we were determined to start over, to leave
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the past behind and build a life free of fear and oppression. We learned
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the importance of listening to each other, of believing in each other' s
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experiences and of fighting together against any dark force that tried to disrupt our peace.
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Although fear was still clinging to our hearts, we supported each other on
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our way to healing, in our new abode, we found a breath of
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tranquility and security. However, the s s s are ras. The old
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man and his creature will persist in our memories forever. The horror we live
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in. He marked us for life, but he also taught us the value
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of unity and courage. Now, looking back, we remember with gratitude the
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day we left that Cursed House knowing that our future would be better and that
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together we would overcome any obstacles that stood in our way. Anonymous account