7 Relatos para NO Dormir del Miedo

What was inside it is the most horrible thing that my eyes had in front of them all my life. A head, a head human moving my mouth, talking to me, talking to me. In this time, community, you will hear 7, 7 stories extremely macabre that I don't want to fall in a suggestion. They are strong, they are graphic and this is one of those episodes that I would prefer to hear if there are children around or if they are sensitive. No No pasa nada si este… no lo escuchan, nos vemos en el siguiente. Si deciden quedarse estamos juntos en esto, y poco a poco, de la mano, atravesaremos estas siete historias hasta sobrevivirlas. Algunas serán historias muy raras, bizarras, historias que van a incomodarles, que les prometo que no les dejarán dormir. 10 seconds to march you, to see something more tranquility, because we are about to start. You are listening to the night, 5, 4, 3, 2. The next story is a story that I tried to forget for a long time, I never did. I shared it in many occasions. I grew up in a neighborhood near the airport of Managua, Nicaragua. At that time it was still more solitary than now. A quiet, quiet, with no movement as the ones we lived there, in small and humble houses, close to the Lago Holotlán. I was a little bit older than me, I was a little bit older than me. I was a little bit older because there were no more children in my street in my street. So I had to get to them so long, so many times, when they were doing things bigger, like looking at houses abandoned, anything that could be taken. Sometimes we were walking kilometers walking along the river to see what we found. In one of those days, a night that was more cold than usual, when we realized that it was already very late, almost 10. A mi ya se me había pasado por mucho mi hora de volver Y aunque estaba lejos y me daba miedo hacerlo solo Tenía que regresar cuanto antes Porque sabía que me iba a ir mal si llegaba a casa mi papá antes que yo Mi mamá estaría ya muy preocupada por mi Y eso me importaba claro Pero si mi papá llegaba y no me encontraba ahí No tenía idea de como iba a reaccionar Ni conmigo ni con mi mamá Que me dejaba juntar con mis amigos Con la mala influencia decía mi padre Por eso empecé a correr hacia las calles oscuras cuando llegué a un terreno grande Cercado con púas En medio había una casita que me daba miedo Y que mis amigos decían que habían revisado alguna vez Pero nunca habían vuelto a entrar Por lo apurado que iba decidí saltarla cerca Cortar camino por ese terreno Lo que fuera por ganar unos minutos I left you When I was running in front of the house, something was said I heard a voice I said, no, I'm not going to stop A voice extraña that I could not understand Until today I didn't know why I was detain Algo no was fine with me No had control of me A un paso de la entrada, había una maleta muy vieja de cuero. Tuve la necesidad de ver ahí, como si fuera a encontrarme dinero o algo así. Recuerdo que mi cuerpo se movió solo hacia enfrente, como si ya no lo controlara yo. I was coming to the bag and I opened it. Here I am. Here I am. Here I am. What I see inside is the most horrible thing that my eyes have had in front of them all my life. A head. A head moving my mouth. Hablándome Hablándome a mí Di dos pasos atrás y caí Las piernas se me doblaron Sentí que no podía respirar El calor de la noche era insoportable Y mientras seguía escuchando la voz dentro de la maleta Escuché dos más acercándose Eran Randall y José Dos de mis amigos Que habían decidido regresar conmigo para cuidarme que me habían alcanzado a ver entrando al terreno. Le señalé la maleta. Se asomaron. Como pudieron me levantaron y me llevaron cargando hasta salir de ahí. Hasta que pude caminar. Hasta que me respondieron las piernas. Me llevaron a casa y cuando mi papá salió enojado se echaron a correr. Había salido furioso y con un bat. Y por como llegué pensó que iba borracho o algo así. He always expected the worst of my friends. I think he gave me a chetada. No lo sé. No podía dejar de pensar en lo que había visto. No podía dejar de repetir que estaba hablando. Que esa cosa me estaba hablando. De alguna forma le expliqué a mi papá lo que vi, en dónde. Me debe haber visto tan mal que fue comprobar que fuera cierto. The police arrived soon, what I saw was real, but I had a long time there, almost no more than huesos. They told me that I imagined that I spoke, but I remember that I could see her eyes, that I saw her moving, that I saw her eyes, my eyes, moving, talking, I remember what I heard. It's of the few memories that I miss my beautiful Nicaragua. We were in fifth and sixth grade, my two primos and I when we left our house that night. My parents had despertado. They told me that we had to go. We were at home and left my grandparents there, they were waiting for me. My grandparents and their grandparents were there, saying they had to collect something very important, that we didn't worry about, that soon they would be back. I was in the same school as my grandparents, so we had seen only a few hours before. We were very tired, but we didn't know why we could sleep. We were there just watching the TV, without talking. We had a strange feeling, like if something bad was happening. Really, like if something was coming to us. A strange feeling in the chest, in the back. My body didn't stop to hear. We heard a loud noise, very loud, almost as if they were a echo. No como cuando toca a alguien que conoces Lo peor fue que tocaron en la puerta detr de nosotros La puerta de la casa Su jard era grande y ten una barda alta que no dejaba ver nada en la calle as que alguien estaba dentro del patio Mi primo más grande se asomó por una de las ventanas, pero no alcanzaba a ver nada. Empezamos a dudar de si en realidad lo habíamos escuchado ahí, si nos lo habíamos imaginado o si era un sonido lejano que pareció escucharse dentro. but we didn't open it. We didn't do it. It seemed to have no one. We were looking for behind the door and we didn't see anything. I have to say that my two cousins at that time were a little past the weight, so I offered to go out by the door, rode the window running, and confirm if there was someone there or not. I had to convince them. Todos teníamos miedo, pero en ese momento ya me estaba convenciendo a mí mismo de que había sido mi imaginación, de que no había nada raro. Salí por la puerta trasera. Mis dos primos se quedaron ahí, esperando como para no dejarme por completo afuera a mí solo. Avancé unos pasos, solo unos pasos. Cuando vi algo en una de las ventanas laterales, alguien se estaba asomando a la casa. Lo que voy a describir es 100% lo que vi. Era una mujer de negro, pero el vestido era una especie de enredadera de tiras negras que le salía de la cabeza. Se veía como pesada. Y volteó. Me miró. Lo único que puedo decir es que era como... like a calavera with bloods of skin, even hidden between the bones. I was very strong. One of my siblings me threw his hand to me and the three we put on to cry. They asked me what they had seen outside, because they, thanks to God, they were not able to see her. I told them that a lady was going to come to the house. Llamaron por teléfono a una señora que vivía cerca Y me acuerdo muy bien como mis primos le decían ¡Una bruja! ¡Una bruja! ¡Una bruja se quiere meter! Yo sabía que era algo peor Podía sentirlo A los pocos minutos llegaron dos vecinas y salimos rápido corriendo con ellas a la calle Una entró a revisar pero no encontró nada raro en el patio No nos creían lo que escuchamos No nos creían que alguien se quería meter Y eso que no les dije como se veía Mi mamá llegó a casa unas horas después Nos dio una noticia terrible Mis abuelitos habían muerto Luego pasaron los días y nos enteramos que ellos mismos lo habían decidido O al menos eso parecía Se encerraron y abrieron las chaves de gas Fue algo que devastó a la familia como suele suceder Todos sentíamos que pudimos haber hecho algo más Que pudimos decir algo más Pero no lo hicimos, no a tiempo Los abuelos se habían alejado mucho de la familia Cada vez más, hasta ese momento Esa noche ahí en la casa de mis primos Yo sé que fue lo que vi Y ustedes también deben imaginarlo ya Es una visión aterradora Pero al mismo tiempo Cuando me volteo a ver No sé También sentí una muy extraña calma Es lo más cercano que estado de la muerte Hola comunidad Me llamo Marisol Y quiero compartirles una historia I never liked to leave my son to sleep outside of the house when I was little, but that time I had no bad. I was in the house of his brother, of the wife of my brother, and I trusted him. He had like 10 years old. That day when we were there, he was very anxious, anxious, but of good humor. In the night I left him when he asked me permission to make a call with his brother. My brother was not, nor the parents of my uncle Only he and his son So I felt that it was a good idea To not be alone in a large house I gave a kiss, I told you that I was well And I returned to the house tranquila No I didn't feel anything Nothing that I could say that something was going to happen A morning next, very early My uncle spoke my uncle No I heard it like when something bad happens But it didn't sound normal He told me that it was for my son, that it was better to go by him, and I came in that moment. When I arrived, I was sent in the kitchen with a cup of milk with chocolate in front of him. I was crying, but I felt something strange in my face. I didn't look directly. I asked if he had slept well and he said that yes, but he said that he was like, My brother took me to another room to talk to me and closed the door. He asked if my son was sleeping. I said no, that I never had done. Then he told me what happened. He told me that in the morning, when he was revisiting the children, he found my son in the room where he had been sitting. He thought he had been with his cousin, but he didn't look there. He looked for all sides. Until he opened the only room that nobody used in that house. There was my son, dormant in the room. I knew the story of that room, knew perfectly what it was. I knew that it was not used and why. That was the room of her sister, the little sister of my cousin, a young girl who had died of a paro cardíaco while dormía, something extremely strange for a girl of 17 years old. The cama continued there, nobody moved her, nobody entered there, not even to clean. I asked my brother if someone had met my son there, if it was a joke of the parents, if someone had been wrong, but he told me that no, that nobody had arrived, that only she had been in the night. When I spoke with my son, he told me something that even now I can't repeat. He told me that he despertated in that room, that he knew that it was not his own, that the room was different, that it was strange. Me dijo que escuchó a alguien respirando, alguien que estaba acostada junto a él, pero no gritó, no se levantó ni pidió ayuda. Me dijo que sentía que si se movía, algo iba a pasar. Nunca me había hablado así, nunca, parecía un adulto describiéndome todo. We were in immediately, we were able to visit them there. During years I was convincing myself that I had been a mess, something that my mind invented, something that I myself wanted to believe. But with the years, my son confessed something more. me dijo que esa respiración no se sentía amenazante, que no era violenta, que era tranquila, como la de alguien que ya estaba acostumbrado a dormir ahí. Desde entonces, incluso ahora que tiene 18 años, antes de dormir, paso a ver que esté bien, que ya est dormido desde la puerta de su cuarto Just to make sure that there was nothing to do with him Cuarto solo para asegurarme de que no haya algo acostado junto a to all those who leave it with variations of our name here and in TikTok, those who listen to my voice, who are the same that they already told here, but with another name, evidently they are pirates. Please, pass the voice, especially because we are seeing that they ask for money, they ask for donations, they say that they are to keep creating content, but remember that in Relatos of the Noche Jamás, jamás, jamás vamos a pedirles algo así. Jamás vamos a pedirles donaciones de ningún tipo. Pero déjenme decirles que sí hay otro proyecto, aunque no es sobre historias. Se trata de El Videoclub de Medianoche, un podcast donde participo hablando de nuestras películas de terror favoritas. En ese proyecto sí vayan a seguirnos. Les voy a dejar el enlace en la descripción y cuéntenos cuál es su película favorita. Por ahora continuamos con más historias esta noche. Hola comunidad, prefiero no decir mi nombre, pero quiero contarles algo que pasó en mi familia y que hasta hoy seguimos comentando cuando llegamos a reunirnos. My dad died in a very repentant. It was a violent event, but it was inesperado. A accident in his car in a night of rain. When we told them, everything was confused. Llamadas, llanto, people coming to the house, quick decisions. That night, nobody slept. My mom, my sister and I were in the house, waiting to come to the funeral and start with the trámites of the velorio. Who had to have had to go through that, knows that the deaths also have a lot of paper. Sometimes, people don't even know the time to suffer for making the necessary measures. It was like 3.30am when I was on the phone of the house, the phone was fixed. That was strange, because almost nobody had that number, and if yes, nobody called there. But my mom replied, thinking about some family that just got to know. I was watching and I didn't say anything at the beginning, only heard it. Then he said, well. I was going to go through a few steps and I could hear perfectly what was coming from the auricular. No había voces ni ruido, solo una respiración, lenta, profunda, como la de alguien dormido. Mi mamá volvió a decir, bueno, y la respiración sigue igual, constante, sin apurarse. Pensamos que era una broma, algún amigo que no sabía qué decir, algún familiar marcando por error. Y mi mamá colgó El teléfono volvió a sonar casi de inmediato Esta vez contesté yo No dije nada, solo escuché Era la misma respiración No sonaba mal, y es que no sonaba agitada Tampoco mecánica Era normal, demasiado normal Como si alguien simplemente tuviera el teléfono cerca mientras dormía Colgué Desconectamos el teléfono de la pared Nos miramos los tres sin decir nada No comentamos lo que sentimos En ese momento teníamos otras cosas en la cabeza Pero unos minutos después El celular de mi mamá vibró Número desconocido Contestó pensando que era de la funeraria, pero nadie habló Y la respiración volvió a escucharse Mi mamá colgó y dejó el teléfono sobre la mesa como si le quemara A la mañana siguiente, mientras revisábamos pendientes, mi hermana notó algo El número que había llamado el celular estaba guardado en el teléfono de mi mamá No con nombre, solo con un número But we recognized that it was the number of my dad, the same that he had years used, the same that he was paid since he died, the same that he was in that moment in his hand in some way in some place in the funeral. We thought that it could be a mistake, something technical, something that was programmed, something that we didn't understand. But that number was marked once more, minutes before starting the velorio. There is where I can assure that nobody else has that aparato. Where I was clear that nobody else was using it to call. Because we already had it left it in my house. No we were atrevered to answer that last call. Hello community relatos, this story is not very long but I hope you enjoy it. When I was 17 years old my grandmother died. I was 15 years old and the house was closed for a long time. I didn't go to clean it up until finally my mom started to use it. One day, I found a box with photographs and a roll without reveling. It was an old, of those that already no longer use it, of a brand that didn't exist for a long time. No had any dates, just it was there, used. I was brought to you by curiosity. For first I didn't think that could be, and if I did, I didn't think that I could keep conserv the photos that took me. I didn't expect anything, but when I saw the photos that came, something I didn't like from the first one. In all the women appeared in the back of the woman. It was not the same photo repeated, but in different places of my grandmother, the kitchen, the kitchen, the kitchen, the patio. The woman always came from the back of the woman, always with a black dress, the left hand raised to the side, and the right hand raised to the side, with two legs stretched. The posture was exactly the same in all the photos. No one saw the face, never. The light was bad, as if the photos had taken me of night. The last photograph was the most rare that I made. It was a window that I had to go to the garden, nothing more. I recognized it in a moment, but in that image there was no one. only the window open, night and the dark outside, nothing else. I went to that house, to visit my mom, who now is there. I was evening when I passed by the window where that window was. I didn know why I was there I stayed looking at the garden For a second I was able to see the same figure the same Sin saber por qu me detuve me qued mirando hacia el jard Por un segundo cre ver la misma figura la misma silueta Pero ahora de frente, en el jardín No distinguí el rostro, no distinguí nada Solo sentí que alguien estaba ahí Prendí la luz de afuera de inmediato No había nada The garden was empty. Never understood who was the person who appeared in those photographs. Nobody in my family remembers a person like this. Nobody recognizes the dress or the posture. We don't know who it is, but we don't want to see it again. This story is an anonymous for reasons that you will understand, and it involves some weapons that my dad had without permission in home. They had been my dad, that in the ranch I needed a scopet and a pair of rifles, but my dad even knew the ranch. That's it, he liked a cazar. Nos íbamos a la sierra y ya que nos adentrábamos en caminos de terracería, después de un par de horas sacábamos las armas de donde las escondía en su carro y nos íbamos a cazar. Bueno, cazar es un decir, porque nunca le dimos a nada. Supongo que las miras ya estaban torcidas o que éramos así de malos. Pero lo que quiero contarles sucede en uno de esos viajes de cacería con mi padre, cuando ya habíamos llegado a un punto de la sierra que nos gustaba mucho, de donde se se veía todo el camino, se veía la ciudad, se veía donde dejábamos el carro, y justo ahí vimos que una patrulla llegó y se estacionó al lado del carro, como si lo estuvieran revisando. Nos preocupamos, claro, era ilegal ir a cazar, tener las armas, así que decidimos esperar un rato antes de volver, para no tener que dejar las armas ahí escondidas. Con suerte los policías in a while. But it was time and they didn't do it. From so far we only saw the two cars, in that land path in the middle of the land. No distinguíamos what were the policemen, but it was like if they imagined what we were doing and they decided to wait. When it was done, they finally left, and as they did, we tried to go quickly. I was very difficult to find the way back The way we were in the face We were in the face We were in the way we were in the way we were We were in the direction we were in the direction We thought we were in the car Suddenly, my dad, who was in front of me He was in front of me Someone who walked in front of us The police, of course They were in front of us Mi papá vio un árbol junto a nosotros, lo suficientemente grueso para que nos sostuviera los dos Me preguntó si creía poder treparlo y le dije que sí Y lo hicimos, lo subimos tan alto como pudimos Mi papá me dijo que subiera un poco más, pero ahí sentí que la rama en donde estaba, estaba a punto de quebrarse Y mi papá intentó sostenerla In that moment we heard that they were walking behind us. We stayed in complete silence, looking down. There was a full moon, so we reached them. They were not policías. I was walking behind us, four figures, standing on their feet. Se veían literalmente como salidos de las tumbas Sus cráneos comidos por el tiempo Sus ropas Su piel podrida Los recuerdo como esas películas que yo veía de muertos vivientes La adrenalina era tal que no me desmayé del miedo Y en cuanto se alejaron bajamos con cuidado de no hacer ruido Para continuar hasta el carro que ya estaba cerca When we arrived, my father was in silence, and then asked me what I saw. What I saw? I said, he said, he was a movie, as if I had hoped that I had not seen. I asked what they were, and he said that I didn't know. I never had seen a ghost. ¿Serán así? Me preguntó sin esperar una respuesta Cuando llegamos a casa le platicamos a mi mamá nuestra aventura ¿Cómo nos quedamos ahí atrapados hasta la noche? Pero no mencionamos las cuatro figuras en el bosque Lo que vimos desde el árbol Esa es una historia que siempre fue solo de mi papá y de mí Porque nadie iba a creernos And I share that feeling here with that same feeling here That nobody will do it And it's okay I don't understand what we saw in the forest This story I remember since I was a kid But for a long time I thought it was something that my mind had invented We lived in a small town en una calle tranquila del poblado de Martínez Domínguez, Zacatecas. Por las noches antes de dormir, mi mamá apagaba las luces y yo me quedaba un rato viendo por la ventana del cuarto hacia la calle de atrás. Detrás de nosotros había un baldío. A veces, aunque fuera tarde, veía a un señor sentado en la banqueta, justo frente al terreno baldío detrás de nuestra casa. No hacía nada, no hablaba con nadie, ni se movía. I was sitting with the arms and legs, standing in front, like we were doing. For me it was normal, part of the street, like the light or the tree of the street. But one night I asked my dad who was that man, and my dad was quiet. My mom went to see him and then he looked at me. He asked me what man was talking about. I was telling you to go to my window, where I always sat down. My parents looked at me. My parents told me that I was going to bed, that it was late. And then I asked my mom again, but he told me that I didn't go back to that. And I didn't do that. I had to see it again, but I never told you anything. Pasaron los años, dejé de verlo, crecí, nos mudamos. Ya de adulto, una tarde regresé a esa calle con mi mamá, porque ahí seguían mis tías. Nuestra casa seguía ahí, muy descuidada por la familia que había llegado a ella después de nosotros. Le pregunté a mi mamá, ya sin rodeos, por el hombre que se sentaba en la calle de atrás por las noches. Otase, mi mamá suspiró, y me dijo que ese señor se había muerto atropellado, ahí sentado, muchos años antes de que yo naciera. Que un vecino borracho perdió el control, y se subió a la banqueta donde se sentaba ese pobre señor. Lo vi mucho tiempo, lo vi muchas noches. Fue, sin saberlo, el único fantasma que he visto en mi vida. Thank you.