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Sacrifiqué Mi Vida En Un Pacto Con Un Demonio - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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As a child, I was very curious about the unknown. It was common
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to stay awake until late in the morning watching horror shows or listening to stories
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of the same kind on the radio. The next day at school, I
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started to fall asleep because I didn' t sleep at an appropriate hour,
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but the excitement of seeing and hearing just knowing about these stories was what I
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was doing. Stay awake at unrelevant hours looking for more stories of all kinds.
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My favorite theme was the hidden rituals, which are carried out by people
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who have experienced a contact with the unknown. With the proliferation of the Internet,
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this issue became more accessible to anyone who had a cell phone or satellite
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connection to a telecommunications service. It was up to me to experience that change,
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the birth of the Internet, the websites of social networks, forums and
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digital spaces, where all kinds of topics are discussed and any topic is not
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small enough for it to have its niche, its viewers and its followers,
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something that is a double- edged weapon, because as you can find cooking
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recipes specified in a coldly calculating way, you can also see and consume illegal
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content all in the palm of your hand in a matter of seconds after having
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typed some simple characters on the touch screen of your mobile device that by themselves
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do not mean anything bad, but by conjugating them in a sentence or word,
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they become a reason to alert anyone. My Internet searches were not anything
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of an illegal nature, but if they were relatively difficult to find, I
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was looking for how to perform rituals from different parts of the world and different
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kinds of beliefs to invoke rs an entity. The Internet is full of these
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types of videos where they explain what you can do to get in touch with
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the unknown. But I wanted to go beyond the barrier of simple legends made
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to entertain and scare newbies on the subject. He wanted something that would represent
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a guarantee if such a thing could come into existence in this area, of
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having a contact with a being from another existential plane, something that was not
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as well known as the daughter, the Red Book or the candle game?
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I wanted something more something really compromising. Then, after much searching and searching
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on Internet forums and with a very specific ritual name the window, which describes
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the following procedure between twelve and one in the morning. Put yourself in a
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window of your house that doesn' t go to the street. It can
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be a view to another room, to a backyard or any place that is
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not a public road, there should be no lighting or anyone else with you
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inside the room or place where you are located. Darkness must be absolute.
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No light can be filtered under a door or through a window other than the
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one being used for the game. By this it is obvious that the light
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from the outside of the moon will enter or perhaps from some lamp the best
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thing is that the amount of light that enters through this place is minimal.
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That' s also why you can' t do it from a place that
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points to the street. On the ground you place a bowl with five hundred
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and fifty- eight milliliters of water, two hundred and twenty- one grams
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of iodized salt afterwards, the ritual needs a DNA bond with the person who
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performs it. The amount is 14 grams. It may be urine, blood,
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saliva, or any other body fluid, but it should be no less
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than 14 grams accurate. Obviously, you need a scale to accurately take these
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measurements. After five minutes of aggregate, the DNA sample mixes a handful of
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pantheon soil and the most difficult and disgusting for getting what you read. This
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point causes many people to retract from carrying out the vomiting procedure of a baby
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under six months of age. I know it' s kind of sick,
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but for those years, my thirst for contact with something unknown was what governed
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my life. He had tried a dozen web- written rituals and none had
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worked. I had faith in him because of how difficult it was to find
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him and the warnings that were accompanying the narrative. But I was lucky enough
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to have a five- month- old nephew who I sometimes cared for and
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fed. After knowing this requirement, I offered to take care of it and
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on one occasion I was able to collect the baby' s fluid in a
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small jar without anyone noticing. I already had all the elements, the water
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with salt that represents a link between this plane and some other my adn that
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linked me directly to the ritual, the fluid of the baby that represented the
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new life just arrived to this plane of existence and the land of pantheon that
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symbolizes the place of eternal rest after life, all together in a bowl of
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water seventy- seven centimetres from the ritual window and in the middle of the
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deep penumbra of the twelve, thirty- four in the morning. In theory,
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what you should be able to see through the window is the rest of
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your life or, at least, the most significant moments, as well as
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the exact date and the way you are going to die, as well as
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an entity that will lie right behind you and so close that you can feel
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its breath over your neck. If something you don' t like about what
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or what you saw through the frame, you can ask this being to change
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events, to move something in your present or in your hypothetical future, so
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that your request is granted. But in return, your senses will be interfered
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with for the next ten years of your life. What I mean is that
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your body won' t feel anything. You won' t feel the heat
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of the sun, the water in your hands, my sleep pain, hunger
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or cold for a decade. This in exchange for modifying your future. Instead,
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if you want to leave everything you visualized as it is, you'
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re only going to thank the lens and let it retire when it passes one
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to one in the morning. I did everything as the Internet forum dictated,
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and there in the middle of the dark, with a metal bowl, with
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just over half a liter of water and another pile of ingredients. After a
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few minutes and only until then I began to feel deeply stupid, as nothing
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happened and it had taken me weeks to perform the ritual. I even began
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to question my mental health by the fact that I was always looking for this
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kind of experience, even in a desperate way. Couldn' t be normal.
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It wasn' t something an average person would do to hang out.
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I was sick, I don' t know, but it was a strange
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moment of lucidity before my life changed forever I looked up and the courtyard of
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my house was no longer the same on the other side of the window.
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There was a huge city, a busy avenue full of cars and people crossing
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in the end a roundabout where a column of concrete stood and on the top
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of it the statue of a golden angel was Mexico City. I' d
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live there. I couldn' t believe what the window reflected. I couldn
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' t even digest the window reflecting images. It was impossible. It had
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worked. Then I saw myself, I was moving in a two- door
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car, apparently very expensive with me, a beautiful woman, looked like a
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magazine model. The name Helena came to my mind. That woman' s
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name was Helena. I had no way of knowing, but for some inexplicable
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reason, I had that certainty. I saw only good things wealth and prosperity,
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but from one moment to the next, a road accident and a lawsuit
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that would cost me my freedom would go to jail. I would pay forty
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years in prison for causing a car accident where four people died. Forty-
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five- year- old Manuel, forty- one Guadeloupe, twelve- year
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- old Rocío and two- year- old Santiago. It was all in
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my head. All that information was automatically downloaded into my brain. Then he
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would die in an altercation in prison, after spending twenty- two years in
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prison. It was a horrible ending for what seemed like a perfect life to
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begin with. Then the window again reflected the courtyard of my house and seeing
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through the frame of it, the moon that stood on top of the sky
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accompanied by a few dozen stars. I felt a chilling heat in my neck.
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It was like a heavy, stalking breath. Suddenly I felt caught up
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in an omnipresent hunter. I knew at the time that it was no use
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running to turn on the lights I would do. What the entity behind me
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would do would be faster than me in any possible scenario. I didn'
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t want to move and I couldn' t either, because I was completely
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paralyzed from terror. So, after a few seconds, I said in a
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whisper that I had a request to make. Then the breath paused for an
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instant and then continued to sound lighter. I don' t want that accident
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to happen. I don' t want to cause that sin. I said
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between my teeth and being barely ar suddenly the breath behind me vanished and,
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along with her the strange feeling that someone was accompanying me in the deep darkness
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of my room, I set an alarm at about five to be sure that
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the ritual time had already passed. Then I turned on the lights. I
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couldn' t believe what I had done and it was harder to know that
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it had worked. It wasn' t my imagination, it was too vivid
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for it to be a dream or a lie. I really lived it.
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Then I went to bed, but I could not sleep from the fear and
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strange emotion that gave me the fact that, after so long, I had
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managed to make a clear contact with a being from beyond with an unknown entity.
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I spent most of the night awake until, without realizing it, I
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fell asleep. When he woke up, he almost panicked, because I didn
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' t feel my legs, my arms, or anything. It was an
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indescribable feeling, the absolute nothingness in my body. I was neither thirsty nor
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hungry, which only confirmed that last night had been real and that I would
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spend the next ten years of my life without going back to sleep. Weeks
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later, I was starting to freak out. He was not tired, but
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neither did he feel energy or vitality. The worst was the dead times at
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night when everyone was going to rest. I longed to be asleep again.
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I wanted immensely to eat something I could eat, but there were no flavors
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or textures inside my mouth and sometimes I hurt myself on purpose that I loved
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my wrists or cut them with a razor to see if I could feel something,
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but I could not only see my skin deforming. I decided to stop
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just so my wounds wouldn' t be so visible and always covered my wrists
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with sleeves or bracelets. I don' t feel anything. It was very
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dangerous, because once I broke a whole arm and I didn' t even
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realize it. I had to fake pain at the clinic where I was treated
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so as not to alert anyone with my strange insensitivity and I started to think
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that if I was sick inside, if my appendix burst, if my intestine
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was atrophy or if my lungs filled with water, I wouldn' t notice
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and die. Then I started getting medical checks once a month, but nothing
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out of the ordinary. Ten long years passed, three thousand six hundred and
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fifty days and thousands of hours in a torture that was not torture, but
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simply nothing. I think that desolate experience is the closest thing to being dead
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or, at least, being alive. Also in this period of time I
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was constantly questioning that it will be that entity that I felt that listened to
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my request and changed my future, which granted me a desire to eliminate a
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fateful accident that would ruin my life forever. That death was a demon.
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If he was a demon, he had made a pact with him, there
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was one way to get out of this well was questioning that only the inevitable
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passage of time would answer me, for the ritual cannot be done twice.
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You can' t undo a previously made pact, you have to spend the
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next decade of your life without feeling the breeze of the air, the heat
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of the sun, the taste of food, or sleeping for a single minute.
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My body was running out. I lost more than 30 kilos at the
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time. Even if I did not feel hunger or thirst, I had to
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eat and drink, for I could die of starvation. At several times I
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tried to do the ritual again and remove this kind of curse, because I
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could not bear it, but nothing ever happened. I couldn' t get
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in touch with this entity again. Anyway, the time frame ended a no
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night without even realizing it. I fell asleep, woke up in the morning,
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but not the next day. I slept for more than seventy- two
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hours and got up with a hunger I had never experienced before. I ran
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into the kitchen and started eating the first thing I found in despair. I
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thought it was amazing. I could feel, smell, taste again. It
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was me again the penance was over. The mandatory period of time ended and
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I assumed that the accident that would change my life for bad was not going
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to happen, that my life would pass normally. In a way, I
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feel like I lost ten years of my existence in limbo. It was a
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decade where nothing important happened in my life. Everything was the same always and
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I was sick of feeling nothing. I was tired of having to stay up
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all night without being able to sleep. Little by little. I was recovering
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physically. I had a normal look again, not a zombie. He slept
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and ate well. I finished college and got a job at a company,
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a world- known car agency. Everything was going great. A few months
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later, the things about visions began to happen. I moved to Mexico City.
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I met a girl named Helena, who was a magazine model within an
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agency. We fell in love seven months after we met. I know it
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' s early, but I' ve seen it all in the visions.
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There was no need to wait. I didn' t have time to waste.
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She was the woman of my life. I didn' t need more
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confirmation than I already had. It would be foolish of me. Everything was
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like a prophecy. Everything was getting in place little by little. The gears
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of a gigantic interdimensional machine were turning slowly, but it was fulfilling its tasks.
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It was strange and sometimes I had little llambuses where I saw what I
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had visualized more than ten years ago through the window overlooking the courtyard of my
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house. By living it, and not just observing it. It felt as
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if that were unavoidable, as if it inevitably had to happen. Yes or
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yes. Sixteen years after I made the pact, I started having strange nightmares.
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I saw a very tall entity. His head was not visible, as
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the upper frame of the doors through which he was seen covered his face so
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high that, if he had to move, he would have to bend down
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to pass. It was an uncomfortable presence and moments in this kind of dreams,
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again lost sensitivity. It was a nightmare, but it was too vivid
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to just ignore it. The strangest thing is that I knew I was dreaming.
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I was aware of that, but knowing it didn' t comfort me,
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It didn' t make me feel less harassed by that entity, that
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disturbing black and huge silhouette that emitted an unintelligible sound. He seemed to want
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to communicate with me. He uttered four indecipherable words that were heard as a
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buzz full of interference or as the static of a radio without signal, four
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words that whenever he listened to them as much as he wanted he could not
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know what they were. Another peculiarity of these nightmares is that they seemed to
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last a long time. Sometimes they felt like hours when a bad dream doesn
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' t necessarily feel so long. You simply keep it in mind in your
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memory just before you wake up and if you don' t spin it too
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much in your head, it disappears into your thoughts and gets lost forever.
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This no, this recurring dream was how to travel to a place where I
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spent whole nights, where, if my sensibility did not go away, the
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opposite happened. It all felt a lot more like walking, it was more
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perdo and even more tired, as if the gravity in this kind of nightmares
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were much more augmented than in reality. I never told Helena anything about the
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ritual I had done in the vision after the car accident. She couldn'
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t walk again, but I had no point telling her, because that wouldn
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' t happen. Besides I doubt very much that she would believe me if
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I told her what I saw and what I did also what I sacrificed for
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ten long years in these nightmares. I was always trying to get away from
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this strange and terrifying one I was running in the opposite direction to him.
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He always followed me was like a shadow that decaled my steps behind me emitting
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that strange unintelligible sound. I was terrified in an indescribable way by how real
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that dream felt and the worst of all was that it repeated very often.
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Little by little, nightmares became less frequent to the point of having nightmares once
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every two or three months more time passed. Everything went well, everything prospered.
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I got posted at the car agency and the same agency gave me a
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two- door sports car. It was more than I needed but I did
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not complain, because the same agency paid for the consumption of gasoline and all
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the expenses that the car would need. At this point I had become an
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important member of the agency. Far away and faded. In the past the
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memories of that young and inexperienced man remained, full of leisure that only sought
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things that disturbed me on the Internet. The young self, who was interested
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in rituals and occultism, had practically disappeared. Sometimes, however, I missed
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that life was like this. It was a façade at this point where the
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truth of what was being done at the Car Agency was most important. It
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was a place where money from illegal businesses was washed away, where I got
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involved in scams, frauds, contracts, fakes. All that was hidden by
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the agency where I and my associates had a confidentiality contract, which did break,
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paid with blood. It was all gradual. All those steps were set
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in front of me and I climbed them, so I didn' t feel
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the abrupt change. But you who are reading or listening to my testimony,
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feel that everything changed overnight. But it wasn' t like that. It
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' s been a little over 20 years since I did the ritual. The
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teenager who had stood in front of the window twenty years ago was not the
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man driving the camera z l l one at full speed along the highways of
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Mexico City. He was a completely different person and, ultimately, I thought
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that sacrificing ten years of my existence in that ritual to change the future had
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been the right decision. One afternoon, driving the car with my wife next
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door, one of the highways leaving the city was clear when I began to
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hear a whisper, a murmur like those nightmares, something that spoke to me
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in the ear but that I could not understand until suddenly I heard a voice
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that was definitely not Helena, which told me the future never changes. I
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closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I could only
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see the horrified faces of Manuel Guadalupe, Rocío and Santiago. I was heading
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towards them at full speed. His last expressions, glimpsed by the windshield of
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his car and mine before bursting into pieces, are unforgettable for me anonymous account