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Jamas Olvidaré Aquel Día Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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My name is Carlos. If I want to tell something that happened to me
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when I was just a little boy, I don' t know what I
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was and I don' t expect them to believe me either, because sometimes
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I wish I didn' t believe it myself. This haunts me until my
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adult life. I often have a dream with this entity or creature. I
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honestly couldn' t make sure it was an appearance. I' ve always
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thought it was something tangible, some flesh and blood, but to tell the
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truth I' ve never heard anyone else see it. I hope that maybe
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someone else has seen it and that way I won' t feel so alone
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to give a little more context. This happened in Mexico City and my parents
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' house. She was in a private one. I say this to make
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it even easier to understand that there was no chance of encountering any animal that
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came out of some nearby forest or nature reserve. At that time, my
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parents worked long hours and often found me only until late at night, although
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I had friends in the private room where we lived. I always wished I
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had a brother to share my lonely days and nights with. The night this
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story begins. I remember it was about eight o' clock or maybe nine
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o' clock at night before my parents came home. I was alone in
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the garden while swinging on the swings. By that time there were no children
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on the street and the private was so quiet that you could hardly see anyone
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outside. My parents told me that I could go out and play with my
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friends as long as I did my homework before and that I would go back
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to the house at seven o' clock at night, although usually I would
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always come back around eight o' clock, which was when the last of
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my friends would let him out. I didn' t like being alone inside
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the house, so even if I was just staying in the yard until I
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heard either of you' s car get into the house. I was trying
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to climb as high as possible on the swing, when all of a sudden
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the light from the whole block went out in the blink of an eye.
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The world around me was plunged into total darkness. I couldn' t see
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my own hand in front of my face. A chill swept through my spine
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and felt vulnerable in the dark. I stopped swinging I heard the silence of
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the night taking over the environment only interrupted by the heartbeat of my own heart,
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the darkness had always made me very afraid, so much so that I
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was sitting on the swing completely motionless, although I evaluated the idea of trying
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to enter the house and take the flashlight from my room. I was thinking
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about that when suddenly a sound came out of the bushes in my yard.
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They were grunting scary sounds that resounded at night. At first I could not
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discern what it was about, but fear took over me by recognizing that the
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noises were similar to the grunts of a primate. Fear paralyzed me and for
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a few minutes it seemed that time was stopping was trying to convince me that
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all this was just some stray dog that just sounded a little strange or maybe
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a cat. However, these thoughts were discarded when I could hear steps,
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but the worst thing was that these steps seemed to be approaching me. I
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was about to scream, but then I started to hear a warm, heavy,
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deep breath, as if something was near me. Leaning in the dark,
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the breath became closer and I felt a presence beside me. Fear led
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me to tears as I struggled to control my panic. And then a big,
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cold hand stroked my cheek a scream escaped from my throat as I ran
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out of breath. At that very moment, as if it were an answer
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to my terror. The lights went back on in the block. My vision
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was filled with light and the last thing I could see was a pink figure
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running away at great speed. The fast treads resonated in my mind as I
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tried to understand what had happened. When my parents finally came home, I
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told them what had happened to me in the garden. However, his answers
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were not what he expected. They looked at me with skepticism. I guess
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it was largely because as a child I was very scary and quite often I
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came to suggest I even had a nightlight in my room in my defense,
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I was only eight years old at the time. But coming back to the
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subject, instead of believing me, they tried to reassure me, as they
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had done countless times in the past and told me it was surely my imagination.
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It was that, or maybe some of my friends had wanted to play
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a joke on me and I had fallen into it. Despite his attempts to
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calm me down, I knew that what I had experienced was not the product
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of my imagination. The presence in the dark, the cold hand on my
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cheek and the pink being I had seen all was too real, but the
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feeling of misunderstanding tormented me almost as much as the incident itself. That night,
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while I was lying in my bed, thinking of everything that had happened,
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I was on the edge of sleep when I heard a soft bumper in
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the window. It was like when someone with very long fingernails hit over and
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over again a glass with one of their fingers. My heart turned and my
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eyes were wide open Another fact to highlight is that the window in my room
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was on a second floor, so it was impossible for someone to be banging
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from the outside without a ladder, but there was the same sound, delicate
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and persistent. Then, with great fear, I turned around praying that it
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was only the branch of the tree that was outside my window, although a
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part of me knew that it could not be, since that night there was
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no wind when I turned, I only saw how something was moving away in
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the darkness, also at the same speed as a few hours ago. But
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on top of that, that thing had left a mark on his hand on
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the window glass. Scared to run into my parents' room. My heart
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was pounding loudly. I told them what happened and when they tried to calm
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me down again and tell me that everything had been a bad dream, I
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told them about the mark on the window and insisted until they went with me.
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Once there I showed them the mark on the window, but their faces
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reflected a mixture of tiredness and, as far as I remember, some discomfort.
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They basically thought I had done it and they told me to stop making
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things up and go back to sleep on the weekends. My parents used to
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work only until three in the afternoon and we often went out to do something
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with family later, but in the mornings I was alone. That Saturday I
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woke up early and started with my routine almost every Saturday. It basically consisted
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of serving me a large plate of cereal and sitting in the living room to
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watch the cartoons that were on television every Saturday. I was very focused on
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the screen when suddenly I heard knocks on the door, at the same time
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it seemed like someone was surrounding my house. The beatings were familiar, but
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this time they seemed more persistent. I assumed they were Jehovah’ s Witnesses
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because it was quite normal for them to knock on the door at that time
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in the morning. I didn' t want to deal with them at the
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time, so I stood still waiting for them to leave. After a while.
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The noises stopped and I thought they had finally decided to leave and although
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I remember wondering at the time why none of them had spoken or given the
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good days to get my attention. Moreover, they had not put any of
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their leaflets under the door, as was their custom when no one opened them.
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But the truth, though I asked myself those questions quickly, I decided
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not to give it more importance. I finished my breakfast and decided to go
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up to my room to play with my video games a while before my parents
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arrived. Concentrated on my game, time flew by and, as was customary
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in me, I spent several hours playing at some point in the game.
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A grunt of frustration escaped from me when, when I lost on a level
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at that very moment, I heard something that made me totally shudder that dry,
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repetitive sound hit in my window. Like the night before, my heart
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was pounding in my chest and my gaze instinctively turned to the source of the
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noise, wishing I could find nothing. However, that did not happen and
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what I saw left me paralyzed. He was a good monkey, something like
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that, he was bigger, quite like a chimpanzee. However, the reason
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I insist that it was a kind of monkey was because I remember in a
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very vivid way, a long and thick tail was quite similar to those of
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spider monkeys, only that it provided their corpulent body. But that' s
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not the most important thing. The most important thing is that the reason I
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remember her so vividly is because she was completely peeled and pink without a single
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trace of hair. It was like the whole back of that thing was pink
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and hairless. The monkey was there clinging to the outside of my window.
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His appearance was strange and disturbing. A mix between a child and I'
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d dare say something human. I was paralyzed by fear. My eyes couldn
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' t believe what they were seeing. My fang intensified when the monkey seemed
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to notice my look and let a smile appear, showing those characteristic sharp fangs
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that chimpanzees have. They were big and yellow, but that smile quickly faded
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away. When he noticed my fear to my astonishment, the monkey spoke with
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a voice that seemed to emerge from throats, multiple and snoring calm little friend
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told me with difficulty as if he was struggling to utter the words. Fear
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overwhelmingly invaded me how a monkey could talk and what he wanted from me.
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The ape' s words resonated in my mind, but their meaning was an
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enigma. My thoughts became cloudy and the only certainty I had was that I
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was facing something inexplicable and terrifying. My mind panicked. When that strange monkey
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started talking to me, although his voice was creepy, he managed to keep
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my feet from moving in the opposite direction. My legs were shaking, but
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something in his voice made me stay in my place. Don' t go.
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He implored me this time with a clearer and more convincing tone. His
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words surprised me, especially when he mentioned my desire to have a brother,
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and he also told me that God had sent him to keep me company and
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that if I opened the window for him, I would never be alone again
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and that we would play many things without credibility. I couldn' t understand
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how this creature could know something so intimate about me. The monkey kept talking
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to me, promising me company and fun games. I remember that with every
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word, that voice that at first sounded very frightening and a little distorted,
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became much clearer and, so I remember also something friendly. However, my
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instinct warned me that something was terribly wrong. I was only eight, though.
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I knew I should stay away from that being no matter how friendly it
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might sound, and I mean sounding because his physical appearance was really too scary.
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There was also something in those yellow eyes that told me that his words
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were lies. His words became more insistent and his pleas became demands. My
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mind was at war, but I finally made a decision. I wasn'
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t going to open the window or let that creature in. As he rejected
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his pleas, the atmosphere changed dramatically. The formerly friendly creature began to become
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erratic and violent. He beat and whipped his head against the glass and the
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sounds of impact resounded in the room. My ears were buzzing at the scene
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right in front of me. I was pretty convinced that that monkey, or
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whatever that thing was, would end up breaking the glass in my window and,
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by the way, I' d decide to go into my house.
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I remember well that in one of the many heads he gave to the window,
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it ended up giving in and I could hear how it cracked, it
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didn' t break, but I don' t think it would be long
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after that to get it. But, to my luck, almost at the
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same time that happened, I heard the sound of my mother' s car
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parked outside. The monkey also seemed to notice stopping dry, despite the bleeding
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forehead and wounds inflicted, he smiled at me once again putting his fingers on
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his lips to ask for my silence. And after that he left and it
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was at that moment that I could see the back of that monkey with a
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better clarity. Indeed, her back, like the whole back, was completely
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pink and hairless, but besides that, she was full of scars. It
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was as if I had been in a very horrible place, and now that
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I write these words, I could say that that completely pink back, was
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quite similar to what the skin looks like when it suffers from an extremely severe
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burn. The time seemed to stretch as I watched the monkey jump fast toward
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my neighbor' s roof and continued from ceiling to ceiling until I lost sight
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of him. I was paralyzed trying to process what had happened. What was
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that thing, how could I know so much about myself my mother came into
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the house and heard her voice, calling me the attention that had flooded the
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room dissipated and I went to her my mind full of unanswered questions. You
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' re all right, honey, she asked me worried about the expression on
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my face. I remember well that at first he didn' t believe me,
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but as soon as he saw, the state of my window changed its
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mind, and it' s in this part of the story of why.
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I' ve always believed that that thing wasn' t some kind of appearance
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or a product of my imagination. Not only was the window smashed by so
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many blows, but it was filled with saliva and blood. Literally, he
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had hurt himself trying to break through the window to get in and the physical
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evidence was there. At first. My mom checked me out thinking I might
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have some injuries. However, I was completely fine, so I had no
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choice but to believe more or less. I can understand that I was too
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unlikely to believe it, but when I looked back, I would really have
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liked someone to immediately believe all my testimony and understand my fear and despair.
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Like I said, my mom believed something and it was that someone had tried
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to enter the house while I was alone. But he certainly didn' t
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believe my story about that stranger. Chimpanzee with spider monkey tail. Rather,
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she believed that some kind of pervert had tried to enter the house and make
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me who knows that I remember when my father arrived he told her his own
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version. He even said that when she had entered the private had seen someone
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who had never seen her leave it. Even both convened a meeting to warn
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and try to capture that pervert, although that was of no use, not
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only because that famous pervert did not exist, but because none of the neighbors
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had seen or heard anything. Dad changed my window glass that same day.
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I think it was about three days before I saw that thing again and I
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even thought I' d never see it again. But I was really wrong,
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because that third night I was sleeping until suddenly a sound woke me up,
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but it wasn' t the classic sound of that tapping in my window.
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It wasn' t even for a knock on my window. This was
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like some of my father' s tools fell off. That probably wasn'
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t as strange as I saw it at the time, as some cats sometimes
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fought in my garden and used to throw away the tool. However, past
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events were so fresh in our minds that everyone in the house woke up to
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see what I was, if I approached the window. But from this one
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you couldn' t see much and, as far as I remember, neither
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from my parents' room. The house remained silent for a few minutes,
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since that noise had only been heard once, so no one knew if only
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to take it as just a coincidence. However, a few minutes later,
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the sound was heard again and this time I saw it I was standing in
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the middle of my yard staring at my window. I immediately screamed and told
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my father I was back. Then my father, firmly believing that it was
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some pervert, came out without fear of facing it. It should be noted
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that my dad is a tall and heavy man, so he would hardly lose
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a fight. Besides, he had a machete. For anything, I ran
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where my mom was, so what I' ll tell you next is what
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my dad told us later. First we heard my father yelling at him in
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a threatening way, and then we heard a loud, animallike cry from a
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chimpanzee. I think it was about five minutes before my father got into the
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house, he had a lot of injuries all over his body. He said
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that thing bit him many times and indeed had many bite marks. He told
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us that at some point my dad managed to nail his machete. In one
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of the arms of that thing, which he now agreed with me was not
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a person. He told us he was a chimpanzee. It seemed so,
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but he stood too upright and although he could not understand well what he was
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saying, he could claim that this one spoke My Dad. He said he
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was barely around that thing. He jumped at him to attack him. We
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called the police, since my dad was too hurt and needed medical help.
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We were told that the cause must be some kind of wild animal and even
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an alert was issued that some chimpanzee was loose and searched for him for a
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long time. However, they never saw him again and in time the fear
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went away and they all seemed to forget it, although I know I will
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never do it. Anonymous account