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Un Ritual Equivocado Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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I was a coroner for too many years. I saw terrible things, but
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I do not come to talk to you about morbid things, but I would
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like to tell you what happened on one occasion that my way of understanding this
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world changed forever. I worked for a private company that only offered services to
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people with a lot of money. We handled everything with discretion. There was
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no intervention by hospitals or the police. The company had doctors, lawyers,
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mortuary all so that there was no need to involve anyone else and thus prevent
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the leak of information. Rich and powerful people don' t like their personal
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life leaking. You know addictions that got out of control lovers who had to
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be silenced, children who shouldn' t do the problems of people who have
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a lot of money are out of anything you can imagine. Then one day
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they send us to a house in San Pedro, in the state of Nuevo
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León. The maid had found one of the people living in that house hanged.
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But the people who lived there, apart from having enough money to buy
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a city, were also part of a sect that I' m definitely not
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going to say anything about to avoid trouble. The point is, when we
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arrived, we were introduced to a woman, she would figure out the cause
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of death, and then we would just take the body. They didn'
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t want an autopsy. That same day I wanted him cremated and put in
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an urn for our company the wishes of the client are orders and never questioned.
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But just out of curiosity I asked if the woman we were introduced to
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was a coroner or something. They said no, that she was even better
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than a coroner. I was imagining that that certain woman had three master'
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s degrees and two doctorates in some career with an impressive name, but they
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didn' t tell me that woman was a witch with necromancer abilities. I
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went blank. When I heard that. I already knew that this family belonged
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to a sect we had already gone several times to collect bodies. I won
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' t give details. The point is that carrying a necromancer witch was way
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above what I could imagine from that family. Certainly, I wasn' t
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very clear that she' s supposed to make a necromancer witch. But if
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I knew it had something to do with the dead, just say, we
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and the witch went to where the body was. She told us not to
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intervene until she finished doing her thing. The witch was carrying with her a
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bit big. From there he drew eight plastic glasses, two bottles, one
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of water and one of wine. He also took out incense and a bag
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of flour. Four of the glasses filled them with water and the other four
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with wine. He placed a glass of water and one of wine in every
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corner of the room. He also sprinkled a little flour on each glass and
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finally placed and lit an incense on each corner. Then the witch, who
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had uncomfortably long fingernails. He opened the stomach of the corpse with his own
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hands and began to remove the small intestine. As I felt him and even
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licked him. It was the most disgusting thing I' ve ever seen.
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I felt like throwing up, but I held back. I can' t
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even imagine how much strength that woman had to have to open a human body
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so easily. After he finished with the small intestine, he pulled his hands
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out of the body. I thought that would be all. He grabbed a
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chair and climbed up to cut off the object from which he hung the neck
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of the rust. The body fell to the ground. I was able to
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hear how some ribs broke. Then the witch, in a grotesque way,
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opened one side of the chest of the body just on the side that had
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broken the ribs and the same thing she did with the small intestine. He
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started doing it with his lung. Then he made another opening and pulled out
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a palpó and tested a kidney. He did exactly the same thing with another
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part of the body, but it' s so gross that I won'
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t be specific. When he finished doing those horrible things, he told us
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that he already knew what had happened. I was blank, so I told
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her to go with the family to tell them and I asked my colleagues to
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start cleaning everything up on the way. I dared to ask the witch what
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the hell that was all about. She told me that she was a pragga
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that had existed for over two thousand and five hundred years and that she came
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from a very old village in the coastal region of Italy. That practice was
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called Aruspicin necromancer which was witchcraft. Then I asked him how it worked.
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She replied that she was examining the organs to know the conduct and mood in
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which the person was before he died. By examining the intestine, you could
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tell if the person had been stressed out if she was angry. By examining
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the lung, you could tell if the person was afraid or if something had
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made him nervous. As for the kidney, it was helpful to know if
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the person was frustrated or if something had burdened him. And as for the
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others, it served him to know whether the person had been alone or with
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company. I could also figure out whether the company was emotionally close or not.
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He also told me that if I hadn' t gotten the answer,
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I would have had to examine the liver and then go on with the heart.
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The witch glanced back at me and asked me quietly if I knew that
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the family was in a sect without speaking. I said yes. Then he
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told me that the two necromancer pool could only be used with people who had
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at least once eaten human flesh. We got to where the family was and
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she told them she had it figured out. I wanted to stay and listen,
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but the family wouldn' t allow it. He thanked me for the
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services and gave me an envelope and an envelope for my colleagues. They told
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me they were hoping to receive the urn the next day. I thanked them
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and went back to my colleagues and helped them finish cleaning and picking up everything.
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We ended up getting in the truck and left on the way back.
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I was thinking two things. The first was that I knew that people were
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killing her in that house because we had collected bodies, but I swear I
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didn' t really know that they were also cannibalistic. And the second thing
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I was thinking about was what would be the reason for him to believe the
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body and receive the urn. They say beauty is subjective. I don'
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t think so. As far as I' m concerned, there are attractive
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people and little graced people, and everyone decides that they like it and that
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they don' t. But that does not mean that there is no standard
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of beauty set by the general tastes of the majority. This applies to men,
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but above all to us women, and to no one it' s
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a secret that we like attention It' s not a question of ego.
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It' s just that, since we' re little, our parents get
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used to those little compliments, those little enhancements that make us feel special for
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our parents. We will always be the most beautiful, but when it comes
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time to go to school we find a cruel reality. No one sees us
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as our parents, but they see us as we really are taking as a
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point of comparison the standard of beauty I told them about. That' s
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why since elementary school there are popular girls. All the other girls want to
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be their friends and the boys notice them in high school no longer only notice
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them, but they want to get their attention. And as time goes by,
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the pretty ones become prettier and the ones not good, not all can
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be popular. I was in that group that they weren' t popular with.
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In elementary school, all the attention was paid to sixth grade, and
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when I got sixth grade, I wasn' t one of the prettiest,
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so I went unnoticed. In high school the attention was on those who wore
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the skirt higher. I didn' t feel comfortable doing that, so I
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never did it and, therefore, they wouldn' t come back to see
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me, but I could stand it because when I came to my house,
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my father welcomed me as a queen. The point was that after I graduated
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high school and before I went to college my father died. It was hard,
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but it didn' t affect me that much because my relationship with my
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father was always good. We never argued, so I felt calm knowing I
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hadn' t left any unfinished business with him. The problem was that in
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college I wasn' t one of the most attractive. I wasn' t
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even in the top ten of my living room, and when I came home,
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there was no one to say anything nice to me, someone to notice
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me, because my mother was mired in her misery, lamenting why she and
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my father always fought. The day my father died, there was no fight,
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so it wasn' t like he felt guilty, and I was a
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bit blaming her, but she had left unfinished business with my father and that
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was no longer settled. So, while my mother was immersed in her thoughts,
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I had to deal with the fact that no one fed me the ego.
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I had no male friends, not one and none of my friends were
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popular, so in our circle boys never approached. I longed for a little
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attention. I hadn' t even given my first kiss and I was nineteen
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years old. Then, in my desperation, I went to the oldest neighborhood
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in my city. That was where all the people who worked doing esoteric and
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mystical things lived. I went into a witch' s house, told her
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about my problem, and told her I wanted to be the most attractive girl
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in the whole university. The witch looked at me strangely and asked me if
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I had any idea of ur all that involved drawing the attention of so many
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men. I told him I didn' t care about anything that had to
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happen to be the center of attention. The witch laughed a little and told
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me that there was a ritual that could be done, that was neither simple
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nor much less cheap. Besides, I had to fulfill the condition that I
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had never been touched by a man. I told him that I met the
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requirement and that the money was not a problem, that I would not always
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get it, and when I explained why the price and that it was exactly
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the ritual that I was going to do, then he began to explain to
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me it was necessary to use a mineral called concita. That ore had the
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ability to magnetize the chakras and that was what would make the men turn to
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see me thundered their fingers and a smaller girl that I came out of a
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room. The witch asked for something and the girl was to bring her a
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box. While the witch told me that a meme would also be used.
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That' s where the girl came back with the box. The witch opened
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it and showed me what was inside. It was kind of a dagger.
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Its handle was black with symbols engraved in red and the blade was also red.
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It was double- edged. That blade was an alloy of bronze and
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gold. It was necessary to sharpen each one used and it was not a
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simple task. I asked him why the blade was red. It wasn'
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t her natural color. The witch told me that the tame leaf was red
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because it had been in contact with too much blood over the last few centuries.
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That made me nervous by the witch. He explained to me that it
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was necessary to offer some blood in the ritual, because when my blood was
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mixed with the fire that would flow from the mineral, it would intensify my
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vibrations, which would help her not only to see my existence, but also
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to want to approach me. He explained some more details and told me how
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much I would pay him the price if it was a little high, but
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I didn' t care. I needed attention and would get it at any
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cost. I had no way of getting the money. I had no job,
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of course I could have gone looking, even if it was a temporary
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job, but my haste and despair clouded. My judgment. I did not
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know many people who could lend me money and the few who if they could
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do it, would want to know for what I needed it and would not
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ask me, but my mother. So I approached a fellow high school student,
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from another room and from several higher grades. We all knew he was
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moving in the world of illegal things. One of his relatives had an important
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position within the criminal organization that controlled the city. I went with him and
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told him I needed such a lot of money. He told me he didn
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' t lend money, but he wanted me to tell him I could offer
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him in exchange for that money. I' ve never been with a man
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before and I told him. I got the money. I went back to
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the witch, paid her and passed me to a room where she had an
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altar and several strange boards. That' s where we started the ritual.
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She began to ask her guides and demons to join the ritual and to help
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her so that she could grant me what I so much desired. He breathed
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deeply and then stood still until he stopped breathing. He was like this for
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a few moments. Then he walked to one of the corners and when he
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came back with me, he was carrying the red leaf dagger with double edge.
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He lifted the dagger over my head and shouted in the name of darkness.
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I' m going to break the balance to give you advantage. Then
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the witch buried the dagger in her chest. I cried out of impression and
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fear. I wanted to run, but I was paralyzed. The witch,
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who was bleeding, pulled the dagger out of her body as she fell on
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her knees and screamed something else, but the truth I don' t remember
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her words, because I was in shock. She again buried the dagger in
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her body with more force than the first time and then collapsed. Then the
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witch' s assistant, the little girl of the first time, came in.
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She walked to the witch' s body and pulled out the dagger.
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I watched everything with horror. The assistant took one of my arms and stabbed
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me with the tip of the dagger to take a drop of blood. It
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went to a corner where there were several stones and put my blood on one
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of them and started to come fire out of the stone. The girl went
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out and left me there in front of the witch' s bloody body.
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She came back with a cup. He went to the witch and made her
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drink all the liquid. Then the witch got up. I was totally shocked.
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I really couldn' t believe what I was seeing. I still had
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the wounds, I could see them, but they didn' t bleed anymore.
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The assistant came out and the witch went to take the stone that was
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wrapped in flames. He put two of his fingers in and impregnate them with
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the ashes of the stone. He went with me and put those two fingers
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on my forehead. Then I could move. I wanted to say something,
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but the witch said no, to keep all my words and just leave me
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that the work was done and that we had nothing more to talk about.
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I went home. The effects of the ritual were not done. Waiting the
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next day I went back to college could feel all the looks on me.
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It was a spectacular feeling. It was what I had always wanted. I
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looked the same. Nothing changed in me, but everyone looked at me differently.
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I felt complete. That day I had to decide who would take me
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home. In his car. I had eight choices. The boy I told
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him he' d take me to, of course he didn' t take
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me home. It was great. The same thing happened for two weeks.
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Every day boys came up to me, but then, one morning, while
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I was washing my hair, I realized that I was falling down in piles.
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I panicked, came out of the shower and went into the mirror to
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check myself out. There I saw that the eyelashes and eyebrows were falling off,
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too. I locked myself in my room and covered myself with a sheet
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as I felt my body transformed in the early morning. I had to run
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out to the bathroom to throw up in my vomit There were a couple of
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teeth. I stood in front of the mirror again. It wasn' t
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my imagination. My teeth were falling off. Besides, he didn' t
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have nails anymore, and that wasn' t the worst. The skin of
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my arms was filled with stains and the veins of my legs were scarred horrible.
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I went back to the witch, put on a hat, glasses and
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clothes so no one would recognize me on the street. When I arrived the
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witch asked me what I needed, of course I didn' t recognize myself,
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so I took off my hat and glasses. She smiled in a cruel
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way and told me you lied to me. I claimed him and claimed that
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I had not lied to him. She reminded me that she had warned me
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that for the ritual to work, I should not have been touched by a
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man. I was quiet. Then I explained to him that when he told
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me, I didn' t lie to him, only that he had had
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to offer me to get the money. The witch made it clear to me
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that there was not enough money in the world to fix the situation I was
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in, that the ritual had turned against me and that now I would look
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horrible forever. I had no choice but to tell my mother. I left
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college and looked for a job where I didn' t have to leave home.
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And so since then I have lived stories written and adapted by Ramiro contreras