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Soy Exclavo Del Diablo Por Mis Decisiones: Nadie Está A Salvo Historias De Terror- Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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Youth is a time of daring and defiance, a period in which skepticism can
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dye our perceptions and push us to question everything that is presented to us as
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truth. I, in my youth, was the victim of this arrogance that
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clouds judgment and leads to an uncertain destiny. He was a twenty- seven
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- year- old, imbued with disproportionate pride and an unshakeable belief in logic
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and reason. The idea of the supernatural, religion and gods seemed to me
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simple constructions of the human mind, primitive answers to questions that could be solved
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in a more pragmatic way. My skepticism led me to dismiss any manifestation of
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the unknown and my disrespectful attitude to the beliefs of others only fed my ego
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in belief. However, as is often the case in life, circumstances change
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and we do not face challenges that test our most deeply rooted convictions. At
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that point in my life, fortune wasn' t on my side. I
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was in economic trouble, without employment and with little prospect of improvement. It
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was in the midst of this dark crossroads that a friend whose faith in the
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supernatural contrasted with my skepticism extended to me an invitation that would change my life
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forever. My friend took me to a temple, a place that promised to
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ease my sorrows and transform my luck. Although I initially rejected the idea,
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curiosity, and desire not to hurt my friend’ s feelings, they led
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me to accept his offer. I entered the temple with the arrogance of a
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skeptic sure that what I would witness would be nothing more than a spectacle of
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unfounded beliefs. The Mass took place in a predictable way, with rituals and
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prayers that were as familiar as they were insubstantial. I felt disconnected from the
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faith that permeated the place, unable to understand how people could place their hope
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in the intangible. However, the longer I spent between those sacred walls,
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something began to agitate in the shadows of my mind. A subtle, almost
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imperceptible idea germinated within me The notion of harnessing people' s belief in the
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supernatural for my own ends. He seized me and if he could create my
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own cult, a cult designed, not for spiritual redemption, but for my
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personal enrichment. The seed of greed was planted in my heart and the idea
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became an obsession that grew with every minute that passed. In that temple,
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I decided to carry out my twisted plan. I researched ancient religious and ritual
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practices, creating an amalgam of beliefs that I could manipulate to satisfy my selfish
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ambitions. I sought followers among those who, like me, in my youth,
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were in desperate moments of their lives eager for any glimpse of hope.
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My desire for my cult to stand out above all others became an obsession.
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My research led me to explore beliefs as old as time itself by digging up
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forgotten practices and spells that had fallen into oblivion. With every page I looked
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at. The amalgam of my cult was enriched with elements of mysterious cultures and
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dark rituals. My worship would not be limited to the restrictions of a single
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belief. It would be a symphony of the supernatural and ancient superstitions. The
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mixture of my accumulated knowledge began to attract avid followers of something that escaped the
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monotony of their daily lives. My followers did not care about the complexities of
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the beliefs surrounding them. They sought a real hope to cling to in times
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of despair. This reality only reinforced my belief in the absence of paranormal gods
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or entities for them, what mattered was not the truth behind the rituals,
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but the promise of relief and renewal that they offered. As my worship flourished,
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my trust grew, greed took hold of my soul. As the contributions
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of my followers fed my darkest desires, My practices became more elaborate, more
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rooted in the shadows of the unknown. The rituals I designed became a dance,
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macabre of power and darkness, executed with precision to maintain the faith of
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those who sought in my worship a refuge from their sorrows. But greed and
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arrogance have a price, a price I refused to recognize in my growing success.
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The more my worship prospered, the more thirsty I became of power and
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riches. The line between manipulation and belief. Ceres Ris drew and I found
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myself in a spiral of corruption and deception. My followers, blinded by the
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hope I offered them, did not see the dark truth behind my motivations.
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My existence, marked by greed and arrogance, rose to new heights, as
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the power granted to me by my followers grew for them. I had become
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more than just a spiritual leader. He was a divine bearer of truth,
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a figure they were clinging to in the hope of finding meaning in their lives.
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One day, while I was alone in my home, surrounded by the
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shadows that my worship had created, I immersed myself in reading the numerous books
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I had accumulated. I was looking for something new something I could use to
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keep alive the flame of faith among my followers. That' s when my
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hand stumbled upon a book that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. Its
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thick, leather- lined cover still highlighted an age that contrasted with the other
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volumes. I had no memory of having acquired that particular book, but I
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quickly convinced myself that I had bought it from one of the bazaars where I
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used to look for literary treasures. Curiosity led me to open its pages,
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revealing strange manuscripts and drawings. Among the yellowish pages I found a ritual that
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caught my attention immediately. The drawing represented an anthropomorphic figure, half man and
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imitated animal. His arms were twisted and deformed, emanating a sense of restlessness.
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As I watched that strange drawing, I felt a strange connection with the
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figure on the paper, as if his eyes were watching me from the shadows
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of the page. Using my phone, I tried to translate some of the
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manuscripts to discover the nature of the ritual. Little by little, I decoded
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that it was a rite to go invoking a demonlike spirit. He had his
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own name, but he better not say it. In my arrogance I mocked
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the idea, convinced that such practices were only lies intended to manipulate gullible minds.
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Despite my skepticism, a spark of intrigue lit up in my mind as
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I tried to turn my attention away from that book. The ritual call persisted
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in my head. The idea of trying just to kill time took over me.
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Driven by the certainty that nothing would happen in the shadow of my house.
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Surrounded by the shadows that had grown in the wake of my worship,
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I decided to perform the ritual, looked for the necessary elements, gathered what
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was required and set out to follow the instructions detailed in the old book.
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The aroma of incense filled the air. As the candles blinked as if they
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witnessed the game that was about to begin. The ritual wants an act of
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introspection and concentration, a state of mind that I, in my arrogance,
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believed to have under control. The drawing in the book became the epicenter of
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my attention and as I pronounced the words in an ancestral language, I felt
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a strange energy vibrating in the room. Nothing seemed to happen at first.
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My skepticism was reinforced and a condescending laughter escaped my lips. However, as
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the ritual progressed, an indescribable sensation seized me. It was then that,
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in the dark corner of the room, a figure began to take shape in
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a spectrum of ethereal energy, with eyes, eyes and intense ones that seemed
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to explore my soul. The sense of amazement and terror mixed in my chest
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and for the first time in a long time I experienced the genuine fear that
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my skepticism had always denied. The figure remained silent as if waiting for me
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to speak, and at that moment I realized that my arrogance had taken me
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to an unknown territory where the forces I underestimated began to reveal their true power.
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My worship, my followers and my own existence now hung on a thread
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between the shadows I had invoked and so, on the threshold of the unknown,
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I found myself confronting the reality that my disdain for the supernatural and my
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excessive greed had led me to a point of no return. The shadows hovered
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over me, as the figure in the darkness waited silently with eyes that seemed
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to know every one of my sins. The sense of amazement and fear that
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had taken over me reached its highest point when suddenly I felt as if I
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was falling into the void. Reality faded away and an abysmal darkness enveloped me
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by absorbing me in a whirlwind of shadows. The fall seemed endless and my
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mind plunged into a spiral of confusion and disorientation. Suddenly like a flash in
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the dark. My conscience was reaffirmed and I saw myself sitting in the same
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place where I had performed the ritual. A chill swept through my spine as
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I tried to assimilate what had just happened. My senses were alert, awaiting
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some sign of the supernatural that I had invoked. I looked around, but
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the room was empty. There were no ethereal figures or demonic figures, only
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the stillness of the gloom that had remained in its place. A nervous laugh
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escaped my lips while I deserved myself that it had probably all been a dream.
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My mind used to deny the inexplicable, tried to find a logical explanation
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for what I had just experienced. Despite my attempts to rule out experience as
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a simple nightmare, the feeling of having fallen into the void and the vision
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of the pertinent ethereal figure existed in my memory as a shadow clinging to the
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light. I went through a strange mixture of relief and as if I had
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crossed a barrier between two realities, I approached the place where I had performed
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the ritual, examining the remains of consumed candles and the persistent aroma of incense,
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the manuscripts and the book lay there as silent witnesses of what had just
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happened. My thoughts oscillated between disbelief and the possibility that something beyond my comprehension
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would have taken place laughing to myself as if I wanted to banish the sense
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of vulnerability that was haunting me. I closed the mystery book and left it
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on the shelf with the others and so, in the stillness of my empty
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house, I found myself a man who had defied the laws of reality and
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faced the consequences of his own arrogance. The shadow of the supernatural persisted in
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my mind, remembering that even in the penu ra de ons of unbelief,
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there are mysteries that defy all logical explanation. I decided to get away from
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the shadows that were closing around me, trying to find refuge in the daily
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routine that I used to despise my temple. Once full of fervent followers.
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It became my refuge, a place where I sought the normality I had lost
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in my attempt to unravel the supernatural. Upon arriving at the temple, I
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immersed myself in the familiarity of the rituals and words that had once resonated with
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power and meaning. However, as I tried to perform my sermon for the
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remaining followers, I felt a change in the atmosphere, One heaviness fell into
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the air and a painful pressure began hammering my head, my voice, which
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had once been an instrument to direct my followers. Now it became an empty
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echo that barely came out of my lips. None of the people present seemed
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to sense understanding the words he uttered. Their eyes wandered lost in a void
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that I had created myself and the connection that I had previously felt with them
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faded like the smoke of an extinct candle. The pressure on my head intensified,
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becoming an acute pain that took hold of my thoughts. I tried to
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ignore the annoyance, persisting in my attempt to rebuild the façade of normality that
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I so longed for. However, the atmosphere became increasingly dense, as if
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an invisible force were closing around me and then as if the shadows that had
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followed me since my experience in the ritual were manifest. I began to hear
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terrifying sounds were like unintelligible murmurs, It was like a mixture of whispers and
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inhuman grunts. The disturbing cacophony resounded directly in my ears as if hundreds of
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animals were gathering around me emitting their sounds. The pain in my head intensified
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with every terrifying sound. It seemed as if the very animals that communicated in
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my ear were also scratching the depths of my mind. Every word I tried
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to utter faded into the cacophony of sounds and my attempts to maintain composure were
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undermined by growing discomfort. That' s when I decided to terminate the sermon.
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Feeling that my mind could no longer endure the pressure exerted upon it,
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I left the temple in silence, walking in the shadows that seemed to haunt
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me. Even in the light of day, I returned home hoping that rest
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could free me from the strange oppression that haunted me. However, the rest
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did not arrive at my home. The pressure on my head persisted, accompanied
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by the persistent feeling that something dark and unknown surrounded me. Every corner of
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my house. He seemed to whisper shadows and the same terrifying sounds he had
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experienced in the temple continued to torment. I tried to ignore the sounds by
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attributing them to fatigue and accumulated tension. But as the night progressed, the
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whispers intensified. The imaginary animals that emitted grotesque sounds seemed to be directly beside
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me as if they were insinuating their presence in my reality. The darkness of
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the night became denser and the pressure on my head reached an unbearable level.
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I closed my eyes hard trying to block the images and sounds that invaded my
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mind. However, each blink was followed by the feeling of being on the
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edge of an unknown abyss. Thus, as the darkness embraced my home,
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I found myself immersed in a whirlwind of discomfort and fear. My thoughts oscillate
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between the doubt and the certainty that something had been unleashed during the ritual.
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My efforts to forget and return to normality seemed vain illusion in front of the
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forces that manifested themselves around me. The night lasted in an endless nightmare.
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Every attempt to fall asleep was hampered by the terrifying sounds that persisted. On
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my conscience. No matter how much I wanted to deny it something deep down
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in me I recognized that I had unleashed forces that escaped my understanding at dawn,
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I decided to leave home in the hope that the fresh air and daylight
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would dispel the shadows closing around me as I walked through the familiar streets.
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However, the feeling of being observed intensified. The gaze of passers- by
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seemed to penetrate beyond my skin as if they could perceive the storm roaring inside
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me. I walked a bit trying to explain in my mind all the events
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that occurred logically. However, in a moment with the corner of my eye
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I could see a strange silhouette. I couldn' t see her very well
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from a distance and at first I thought she was a dog. However,
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when it began to run towards me. I could notice with horror that that
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creature was the same being that was embodied in the book. What caused me
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more terror was to notice that no one seemed to notice him. He didn
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' t wait for me to come any closer and run home and lock myself
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in for the rest of the day I tried to find answers in the books
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I had accumulated, but every page I looked at only increased my confusion.
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The texts that previously provided me with knowledge now became inconsistent, as if the
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words themselves were twisted by an evil force. As time progressed, my physical
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and mental health deteriorated. The oppression in my head turned with its and the
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terrifying sounds became a constant whisper in my mind, the barrier between the vigil
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and the dream became thinner and faded like a shadow in the darkness. Despite
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my efforts to deny the growing truth that rebelled before me, I understood that
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I had opened a door that I could not close. The forces I unleashed
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during the ritual now hovered over my existence, claiming a price for my reckless
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pursuit of power and so, in my solitude I found myself caught up in
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a macabre dance with the unknown. Reality itself became an unstable illusion and the
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shadows I once manipulated now mocked my despair. I could not escape the darkness
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I had invoked and every attempt to do so only seemed to strengthen the chains
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that held me prisoner of my own arrogance. As the shadows closed around my
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existence. The sect I once led began to crumble slowly. The darkness that
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haunted me infiltrated the hearts of my followers and the tide of restlessness and discomfort
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led them to leave the temple. The words that once resounded with power and
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meaning now fell on deaf ears and the ranks of my sects became thin to
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disintegrate completely. Despite the disintegration of my sect and the loss of followers,
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I found a strange companionship in the demon that I invoked and over time,
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I learned to live with its ominous presence as a spectre that was always lurking
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in the shadows. The darkness became my constant companion a shadow that clung to
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every step I took every night. While the world rested in an unsettling silence,
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the entity manifested itself in subtle, but disturbing, demonic shadows, lurking
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in the dark and terrifying cries that were plunging into my soul, remembering that
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the reality that, once with or yes had irrevocably fragmented. Despite having accepted
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my cohabitation with this entity, a spark of hope still persists within me,
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a longing for liberation that is revived in the moments of lucidity, when the
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pressure in my head temporarily gives way to a dream of getting rid of the
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invisible chains that bound me to this dark realm, regaining my life and restoring
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the normality that I have lost. In spite of everything, I still have
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the hope that one day I will find a way to free myself from this
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dark connection. I live in a constant state of alertness, observing each shadow
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and listening to each sound with fear and the entity, although invisible, remains
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a tangible presence that reminds me of the fragility of my existence. Today I
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still regret not having taken those issues more seriously and think that if I hadn
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' t been so arrogant, my life would be very different. Now. Anonymous account