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Caí En Sus Garras Y Lo Pague Muy Caro - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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I was twelve years old and I lived with my parents and Grandpa Beto,
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and everything was normal in our lives. We lived in the small town.
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It was the year nineteen hundred and ninety- six and most of the men
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emigrated to the United States or went to work in Mexico City. But that
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didn' t happen with my family. My father stayed to work the country
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and my grandfather did nothing. He never had the initiative to go out looking
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for new opportunities and dragged my father to live in that village, as he
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convinced him that it was his responsibility to take care of him. Then everything
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went on in a normal way, but more and more poor. It was
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very sad that many times we did not even have to eat, despite working
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hard hours in the countryside honestly, it seemed not worth it, tiredness.
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My mother was in charge of the labors, the home, the, the
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with ra and the care of the grandfather, who was an old man who
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was always complaining and making jokes of bad taste in the afternoons. Sometimes he
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was going to take cane with his friends in the center of town and many
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times he arrived drunk and started to make a terrible scandal and he wouldn'
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t let us sleep. Despite that, I got along with him, he
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taught me how to play guitar and we always talked a lot. My parents
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didn' t understand, but I did just need attention. I wanted them
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to know that it existed and that' s why I did what I did.
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Sometimes he took me with his friends and while they were drinking, I
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used to play with another child, grandson of one of my grandfather Beto'
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s friends. He always told me that he deserved to be rich because he
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had the port, but not the money, and he always repeated that it
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was never late, he was still strong, he could walk well. It
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didn' t hurt at all, but that did. They never helped us
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in it. The camp was limited to watching us work when it accompanied us
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and even to telling us that we were doing wrong and scolding us. One
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day, my father and I came home after a long day' s work.
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We were hoping for a good harvest. Tired, we walked into our
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home and found that my mother was very frightened. He said he didn'
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t want to go into the kitchen, because Grandpa had been talking there for
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several hours. She had just locked the door from the inside and as much
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as she was talking to him and trying to get in. He could not
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do it, but that was not what had frightened her, but, among
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so many words the old man spoke that they answered him, which could not
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be, for in that house we only lived my father, my mother,
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my grandfather and I, and at no time had anyone else entered the house.
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We started knocking on the kitchen door. I read and told Grandpa to
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pray that he would open up, but we only heard laughs. Then my
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father went for a machete and some tweezers. The door was made of wood,
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there was no other door left. It had to be knocked down.
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We tried to do it, but for some reason we couldn' t.
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It was weird. Then we had to think of another way in and the
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only option we had left was to enter through the roof, which was tiled.
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It just had to be lifted if we could get in. I offered
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to go up as my father was very tired. She' d better stay
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with my mother. I put an old wooden ladder on the wall and started
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climbing. It was almost night, so you didn' t see much and
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the trees on the street covered parts of the ceiling with their branches. The
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wind moved them, which made something chilly to be there, but I had
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to finally get in for Grandpa. When I removed the first tile, I
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heard something jump from the ceiling to the branches of the trees. Then he
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fell out of the house and ran off on the way. The only thing
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I' ve ever had to look at. It was something like a goat
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At the time I thought it had been my imagination and although if it gave
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me some fear, I decided to concentrate on what I was doing. I
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kept removing Texas until it was enough and from a jump I got into the
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kitchen. The focus was on, but at first sight I couldn' t
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find anyone. I started looking and in a corner, covered with a blanket
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was my grandfather, made ball, his palm hat covered his face. Only
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his chin was visible, so I patted him on the shoulder and told him
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to get up, that it was time for dinner and that he should be
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fine, because he had already scared my mother. He just answered me with
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one who and I thought maybe he was drunk, so I didn' t
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listen to him much and went to see why the door couldn' t be
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opened. To my surprise, I was open and on my way out I
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spoke to my parents. Then, when they came with me, I told
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them Grandpa was in the corner, but suddenly they started knocking on the street
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door. My father told me to go see who he was. While they
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would prepare some dinner and wake up the old man. I must say that
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to get to the street door I had to walk a wide corridor about six
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meters long and it had never been as difficult for me as on that occasion.
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I felt a lot of chills, but when I came to the door
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and asked who I was, the answer froze my blood, because what they
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told me I freeze my blood. It was the voice of the grandfather who
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told me to open it, that I was very cold out there I approached
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a slit that was facing the street and with fear I could see that,
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indeed it was my grandfather who was standing out there. Then I opened him
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up and he walked into the house like nothing else, only his hat was
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missing. As we walked into the kitchen, I asked him if he had
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lost it, to which he replied yes, that he had lost it.
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On a bet. I asked him who he had lost the bet with and
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he just told me that he had played with a rider who found himself on
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the hill. But at the time, what I was most concerned about was
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knowing who was under the blanket in the kitchen. So I told Grandpa to
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go fast over there just to bump into my mother and father stuck on the
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floor, praying the rosary completely terrified. I talked to them for a while,
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but they didn' t react. Then my grandfather hugged my father and
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shook them until he could come to his senses. I quickly asked him what
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had happened to what was frightened. She replied that he and my mom had
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gone into the kitchen and that she was going to start making something to eat.
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Then he went to see what his father had and when he lifted up
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the blanket that covered him, there came out a cheeky man who went through
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the hole that I had made in the tiles, not without first staring at
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them with a terrifying smile. When my father finished talking, I began to
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tremble and Grandpa only began to worry and to say that he had surely been
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some thief and that we should be careful, although in reality there was not
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much that a thief could take away from us, because we were very poor.
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That night, my father and mother went to their room and didn'
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t even have dinner. I stayed with my grandfather to cover the hole in
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the kitchen ceiling. We' re also looking for intruders all over the house,
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but we haven' t found anyone. I asked my grandfather about his
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encounter with the rider and he told me that as he was returning home on
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a rocky road, someone said his name and when he turned around he saw
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a man dressed in black on a horse. I asked him if he hadn
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' t been afraid and he said no, because the rider told him to
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make the bet and that if my grandfather won, he' d get a
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lot of money and if he lost, I' d take his hat off.
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I didn' t ask him anymore because he didn' t want to
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be more afraid than he already had. That night it was hard for me
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to sleep, for I heard someone walking on the roof and listening to laughter
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outside the house. The next day, the atmosphere was tense. The house
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was very cold and my mother refused to stay alone in the place. That
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day he went with us to the country and it was then that we asked
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Grandpa if he wanted to go with us, but he said no, he
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had another matter to attend to. We didn' t insist on it anymore,
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and after a burning day' s work, the afternoon came and we
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went home. Everything was relatively at peace. Only the old man who didn
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' t arrive was missing. The hours passed and my parents went to sleep.
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I stayed waiting for Grandpa in the hallway. I wrapped myself in a
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blanket and fell asleep without realizing it. After a while, I felt someone
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moving me. He was the old man who was trying to wake me up.
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I slit my eyes and asked him the time. He told me it
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was two o' clock in the morning, but there was something weird about
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him. He seemed nervous, and instead of sleeping, he told me to
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go with him, that I had to talk to someone, but I didn
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' t want to go alone. He got very foolish. That time I
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did not want to wake my parents up and I ended up accompanying him,
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although I must accept that I was very afraid. It was too late and
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normally we would leave at that time for nothing in the world, but I
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had no choice but to accompany them, because when he became foolish he was
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able to wake everyone up and make a scandal, so I accompanied him.
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In that we start walking and walking for a long time. I was already
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tired when we went to the middle of town and told my grandfather to come
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back better, that it should be about 3: 00 in the morning.
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But the old man wouldn' t even answer me. It was like my
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opinion, he didn' t care. After what I figured, it was
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an hour we were out of town. I asked him why, but he
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just told me to shut up that the rider would wait for us to give
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us something good that would suit us. We took the road leading to a
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place called a glen, where there were several stones on top that simulated a
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tower. When we got to that place, everything was quiet. It didn
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' t seem like there was another person out there, when suddenly I felt
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a very strong dizziness I fell to the floor and couldn' t move.
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I thought I' d faint, but not because I just couldn' t
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move and as I fell face down I could only see a little in front
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of me. But the funny thing was my grandfather was still standing and doing
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nothing to help me. Out of nowhere he started talking. I didn'
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t quite understand what he was saying about just some money, but if there
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was someone who would answer him, it was an unknown voice, the voice
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of a man. I was very scared and very cold. Being lying there
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on the floor and as far as I could, I tried to turn to
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one side. Which was very difficult for me, not only because I couldn
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' t move, but also because I was panicked. Then I saw the
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legs of a horse burning in flames. However, what just scared me was
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that the person on the horse told my grandfather to give the boy and that
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they would be at hand at that time. Fear and despair didn' t
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let me keep listening. I just wanted to run away from there. That
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' s where I was when I could see the horse moving away, and
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little by little you could appreciate better who that guy was. I soon came
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to a conclusion that I was seeing the Black Charro, a legend that was
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talked about a lot in the village. A lot of people said they saw
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it and I didn' t really believe in it. Until that day it
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was said that the Black Charro was an evil spirit or a demon who had
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the ability to control the horses and cause terror in those who were on their
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way and who even made deals or bets in exchange for souls. He was
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attributed supernatural powers, such as disappearing and suddenly appearing, as well as producing
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strong winds and storms. After a few minutes, when we were already alone,
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my grandfather and I could slowly stand up and when I wanted to question
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him what had happened, he just looked me in the eye and told me
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not to worry that he was going to pay that debt. I was too
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angry with him. I could not believe that I was going to offer myself
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as a sacrifice to a demonic entity, for I would have led me there
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with deception and made me witness that horrible scenario. That morning I could see
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something changed inside him. The next day I got ready to go to work
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in the country, but my father called me in the kitchen. There he
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and my grandfather were and they seemed upset. As I was told, we
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would no longer do the field work, because my grandfather, mysteriously, had
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received a money an inheritance from his father and wanted us to use it to
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build a new house and set up some businesses. My father or I disagreed,
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because he found that story very strange. Besides, he knew what the
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old man was like and directly asked him if he hadn' t made a
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pact with something bad. My father knew that Grandpa believed in all this occult
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stuff and made it clear to him that he didn' t want anything that
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was wrong. I told my father what had happened in the early morning and
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he was terribly angry and angry with himself saying it was his fault for not
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taking good care of me, but I told him not to worry, because
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nothing more serious had happened and that it was best for Grandpa to leave the
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house so that no curse would fall on the family. And my father ran
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him completely mad at what he had done. Then my grandfather left the house
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with great pride and, as he said, he would not return. He
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even mocked us and said being the way we were would not lead us to
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anything he wanted to share. His fortune with us and we didn' t
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even thank him. We were all very sensitive to him, because he knew
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perfectly well that those things were not right that, as always favor with favor
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is paid and who knows that he was going to give the black charro so
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that his debt would be settled. The days passed and without realizing it,
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he spent a year in the village. They talked about Beto, who was
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my grandfather, how he bought houses, land and animals. He made himself
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known as the rich man of the place. One day he sent for me.
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I wasn' t interested in his money, but I went to see
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him because he was my grandfather, he was my family. In spite of
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everything, after all, we got along first and I always cared about him.
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When I got to his new house, I couldn' t believe it.
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It was a luxury mansion, but empty. There was no one else
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living in it, just him. Then I saw him He seemed older than
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he was and he seemed very ill and although with difficulties he could still walk.
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When he saw me, he didn' t waste his time and told
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me that when he died, it was my turn to wear his little nose.
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Then he pulled out a little goose that hung from his neck and hid
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under a jacket that he always had on. He stared at that goblin and
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told me that all his money was there with one hand. He took out
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a bale of bills and wanted to give them to me, but something inside
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of me made me reject them. I just told him to save them for
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later, and I left there. I didn' t tell my parents I
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' d gone to see Grandpa because I knew they' d scold me,
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so I didn' t say anything. The months passed and I would visit
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him from time to time, because I felt hurt for him I was alone
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and sick. His health seemed worse until the day came when he seemed to
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be about to die. He told me to go for the father of the
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church, that he wanted to confess before he left and not forget about the
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morral. That' s what I ran out on. It was night and
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the roads were alone, as the people were at night mass. I don
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' t know how to explain it, but all the way around I heard
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a horse galloping like he was following me, but as much as I was
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looking for, there was no one. I arrived at the church and the
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Mass was about to end. The minutes became eternal for me to finish.
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But after a while, I was finally able to talk to the priest,
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who quickly went with me as we walked the lynching and beating of the legs
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of a horse, he listened again with us. But both the priest and
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I saw no one. He was even scared and confused, but he knew
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that a man would die and he had to confess to God. We were
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already at about five houses of my grandfather' s, when unexpectedly the public
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lighting of the road went out leaving it almost completely dark Only the moon lit
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up that cold night and there, waiting for him from between the mountain in
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front of the house, came out the black charro, linching his horse and
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moving his head from side to side, gave us to understand that we could
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not pass the priest. He began to pray what seemed to bother that being
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when suddenly he began to laugh and shoot in the air, moving away from
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the place losing himself in the mountain. We ran to the house, but
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when we entered my grandfather' s room, it was too late, I
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had already passed away and realized that my father was there. Surely my grandfather
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had sent for him and when we approached him, I heard that the father
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said that the Black charro had not let him repent. When the funerals were,
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no one in town went to accompany my grandfather' s coffin and at
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the funeral only my father and the priest were present. I had the little
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nose in my hand and told the father what he had told me. My
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grandfather before he died was about to hang me around my neck. When the
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priest took it from me, he turned it upside down and I could only
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see coal. He threw it into the grave and told us to start earthing.
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He warned us that the morral would give us money, but it only
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meant following the curse. After that, all my grandfather' s business broke
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down and no one wanted to buy his property, as the shadow of the
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curse would always be present. The story of my grandfather and the black charro
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became a legend in the village and every time someone who mentioned his name,
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a chill ran around the back of everyone present and the next night, at
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the funeral, I had a disturbing dream. I saw the Black Charro riding
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around the village, laughing and sowing terror. I woke up sweating and with
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my heart racing. Since then, his presence has become stronger in my life.
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I began to hear his laughter in the darkness of the night and to
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feel his penetrating gaze in every corner. I decided to investigate more about the
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Black Charro and discovered that it was a malevolent being, an evil spirit related
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to the world of the dead and the dark covenants, as its aim was
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to seduce unsuspecting souls and lead them into the abyss. My grandfather, without
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realizing it, had fallen into his clutches and paid a high price for it.
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My grandfather was a good man, but temptation won him over and the
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money couldn' t do it. Happy. Anonymous account