Así Viven Y Trabajan Las Brujas (Pueblo De Brujas) Historias De Terror - REDE

0:05 A neighbor' s witch called me Marco and I grew up in an old building in Mexico City. It was the decade of the nineties and my life ran between the walls of that building. I didn' t have many toys, but I made up for that lack with my imagination, fed by the stories I heard behind the doors and windows facing the hallway. My mother, a strong and determined woman, became my only world after she and my father separated. Although he never went into details, I always knew that separation was problematic. My father, according to my little memory, was a man of a strong character and impulsive decisions, which clashed with my mother' s firmness and caution. The decision to separate was not an easy one My mother faced not only the challenge of taking us forward, but also the social stigma that still weighed on single mothers at the time. She worked all day and I was alone at home after school, surrounded by the walls of our apartment, which protected me and at the same time isolated me from the outside world.

1:18 The journey from my home to school became my daily adventure, my little dose of freedom. I remember every detail of that road, the bakery on the corner, whose aroma is freshly baked, crept into the park in the morning where other children played the candy salesman in front of the school. That path was my connection to the outside world, a world that was largely denied me, despite the brevity of my daily journey. I held on to every image, every sound, every smell was my way of escaping from imagining a less lonely life. My mother was trying to keep us afloat and although that meant that we spent a lot of time apart, she always made sure that I felt safe and loved. The nights were especially our moments to reconnect our experiences of the day. Although I never mentioned the strange sounds I sometimes heard, I remember some of the people in the building. First there was Don Roberto the doorman. This man, always dressed in a worn- out overall and a slightly bent beret, spent his days guarding the building. But what really made him special was his way of telling stories about the city and its changes over the years. Despite his rough appearance, he always kept sweets in his

2:49 pockets for the children of the building. On the second floor lived Mrs Martínez, an old woman who seemed to be as old as the building itself. She was known for her ability to care for plants, turning her balcony into a small hanging garden that gave life to the concrete grey. Each plant had its own story and Mrs Martínez shared it with anyone she wanted to listen to. He said plants were like people. Each one needed attention and love to flourish. Then there was Pedro, a musician who lived on the third floor. His life was a mystery. He was rarely seen during the day, but at night. The melodies of his guitar were filtered through the walls, although some complained about the noise. Finally, I can' t forget the Ramirez family on the first floor. They were a large, noisy family.

3:46 His door was always open, but not everything was pleasant. Right next to the apartment where I lived with my mother, there was the most mysterious tenant in the building, a woman who for many went unnoticed, but who for me was the center of every mystery, whose presence felt different. She lived in the apartment, right next to ours, but curiously, our paths rarely crossed what she knew about her. I remember his silhouette always dressed in dark, his figure was thin and although his face always seemed to be in shadows. There was an intensity in his gaze that on the rare occasions that it fell upon me, my blood was freezing. The adults in the building were talking about her in whispers, exchanging stories that I heard, reloading my ears on the door facing the hallway. They said that he had lived there for more years than anyone could remember and that the apartment was full of strange objects and ancient books. One of my first memories of her occurred one winter afternoon.

4:54 I was playing alone in the hallway, something I was rarely allowed to do. When the door of her deb apartment opened suddenly for a moment, the hallway was filled with the smell of herbs and wet soil and I saw her standing there watching me with an intensity that paralyzed me without saying a word, she extended her hand towards me, in which she held a small dark object. I instinctively took a step back and at that moment the door closed just as quickly as it had opened. I never knew what he wanted to give me. Another memory that persists is the sound of his voice at night. From the security of my room I heard songs and murmurs leaking through the walls were melodies in a language I could not understand. The nights in my room were filled with inexplicable sounds, laughter that faded into the air, murmurs that seemed to carry messages, hidden and steps that led nowhere. What I heard was so vivid and at the same time so ambiguous that my imagination as a child could only be wrapped in a mantle of restlessness. Despite the rumors and whispers in the hallways, no one really seemed to know this enigmatic woman.

6:13 The strangest of all was his apparent challenge to the human need to sleep at night. From my room, the sounds of his activity were a constant murmur. The drag of furniture was filtered through the thin walls that separated us. These night activities were so varied and persistent that they led me to wonder if I would ever rest every day without fail. At about five in the morning, her apartment door opened and she left the building. Then, an hour later, he returned throughout the day. Whether it was a quiet Saturday at home or a Sunday, the sounds continued. It was as if for her the concept of rest was alien or unnecessary. He could hear his footsteps, the constant movement within his department. When we had two months already living in the building, I saw the lady for the first time receiving visitors, an event so rare that instantly captured my complete attention. They were not ordinary visitors, there was no laughter or warm greetings. Everything in them was a mystery. There were three men and a woman dressed in long black coats.

7:32 What disturbed me the most was the silence that surrounded them, despite being watching them from the door, very slightly open, I could not hear their steps or their voices. Just a deep silence when you get to the door of the lady' s apartment. One of the men drew from his coat an object wrapped in dark cloth, something that, by the way and by the way he handled it, seemed to be of great importance. They exchanged a few words with the lady, words that did not reach my ears before she invited them in, disappearing all together inside her apartment. That night, for some reason, I couldn' t sleep. At one point I began to notice that the woman was putting animals in her apartment, cats with penetrating eyes and black fur, old pigeon dogs. But without a doubt, the weirdest thing I ever saw him get into his house were black rats of those black and fat who live in the drain sewers. During a season that lasted for approximately seven months. A particularly disturbing mystery developed in the building that even now I find it hard to fully understand every fortnight, not a day more or a day less, every exactly fortnight, pregnant women began to visit the apartment of the mysterious tenant. His arrival was discreet, almost imperceptible. Visitors,

9:03 whose faces reflected a mixture of anxiety and concern, were greeted in silence. What was going on inside was a mystery and a very intriguing one, because on leaving these women no longer bore the visible sign of their pregnancy. His departure was as silent as his arrival. Back then. My understanding of such events was limited. A child' s logic could not conceive of the complexity, let alone the magnitude of everything that was happening. Inside the apartment of the mysterious Tenant. There was a particular event that even for the already unusual standards of the building, highlighted as especially disconcerting. It was an afternoon when a black car of those you only see on the news or surrounding events of great importance stopped in front of our building. From him came a man whose presence in our humble surroundings seemed completely out of place. He wore an impeccable suit, carried a look of authority and seriousness. I knew right away.

10:09 It had to be someone important, perhaps a member of some political party or a high- ranking official. I watched it from the window in my room. The man looked around before entering the building as if he wanted to make sure he was not followed or recognized. His visit lasted a short time, not more than an hour. The strangest thing about this visit was not his appearance or the vehicle in which he arrived, but his fate, the apartment of the mysterious Tenant. When he came out, his expression was thoughtful almost worried. All this that I' m counting may sound too specific, but I remind you that I lived right next to that lady and as my mother worked all day, I could spy with the door slightly open. One night in particular marked a before and after. It all started with an unexpected call my mother received at work. Someone had missed and although she rarely took extra shifts the promise of a little more money convinced her it will only be for a few hours. She told me before leaving, my mother reviewed the usual instructions not to open the door to strangers, not to make noise and, above all, not to approach the neighbor' s apartment. That last one seemed too strange to me, because I' ve never heard of it before.

11:35 It was obvious that I should not even leave the apartment, but the fact that my mother was so specific to warn me that I should not approach the neighbor' s door next door seemed quite strange to me. With a kiss on my forehead and the promise to return before I woke up in the morning, my mother closed the door behind her, leaving me in the silence of our home. Curiosity that impulse so powerful in a child' s mind began to eat me as soon as the sound of his steps faded into the ladder. The idea of spying on the Tenant' s apartment at night was both terrifying and irresistible. After maybe a couple of hours, I made the decision to lean into the hallway once I was sure my mother had left the building. That' s when something unusual caught my attention. The woman left her apartment or carrying several black bags, large and seemingly heavy, left them carefully just outside her door. It wasn' t many minutes before a man came to pick up those bags. I' ve never seen that man before.

12:46 He didn' t live in the building and the way he came to pick up the bags. I had the impression that was commonplace. I can assure you it wasn' t garbage bags. I' m absolutely sure, because when the man goes to the bags, something inside him moved inside. There was something alive. The moment the man disappeared with the black bags, I was overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of being observed. I turned my head slowly toward the door of the tenant and there she was with her gaze fixed on me The terror I felt at that moment was overwhelming. It wasn' t just the fear of being discovered in a prank, it was a deep fear. Scared by his gaze, I couldn' t move. After what seemed like an eternity, she closed her door softly without making a sound, leaving me alone with the heartbeat of my own heart beating wildly. Then I reacted by closing my door in a box and running to lock myself in my mother' s room, because that room was not attached to that woman' s apartment. That night, after the silent encounter with the tenant and her penetrating gaze, the silence of the apartment was abruptly broken by the sound of someone knocking on the door. At that moment, my heart stopped. There was no doubt in my mind who she might be. It had to be.

14:15 I sneaked up to the door, moved by a mixture of fear and a need, making as little noise as possible. I approached one of the chairs at the door to climb up and be able to take a look through the viewfinder, but when I did, the only thing I found was that the hallway was empty. As she kept watching through the peephole, the woman appeared out of nowhere with a disorbited look and the woman began to struggle the door, but as much as she tried, she could not enter, so she surrendered and returned to her apartment, leaving me alone for the rest of the morning. I think it' s more clear that I didn' t even try to sleep because of all the fear I felt in the early morning.

14:58 It advanced around seven o' clock in the morning. My mother' s finally here. I told him everything. My mother listened to me in silence. There was no reproach for not having followed his instructions to the letter with a calm that only now I understand how the previous knowledge of what was happening. My mother took me to the entrance of our apartment. He picked up the mat in front of our door, revealing a little amulet that I had never noticed before. It was a simple piece. That' s when she shared with me the truth about our neighbor, confirming the rumors and suspicions that had floated in my mind. The neighbor next door was a witch.

15:41 My mother explained that the amulet was an ancient protection symbol specifically designed to repel ceres with dark intentions. She placed it under the mat since she found out about the situation, which had already been going on for several months. When my mother told me that it was like something suddenly clicked into my head. It was kind of like all of a sudden it all made sense. Strange sounds at night, such as murmurs and the movement of objects without apparent cause, the sporadic appearance of animals, occasional visits by rare people outside the building, and the ability of women to remain active at all times. The only thing I never assimilated was that of pregnant women, or maybe what happened was that my mind tried to protect itself from a strong impression or trauma, because my mind, maybe that' s why I never tried to explain it.

16:41 I know what some may be thinking, but I don' t think that ' s what I think now as an adult already aware of many things. What I think is that this woman, somehow, using a very strong witchcraft, I think what she did was advance the birth of the baby to keep them for a purpose I don' t even want to imagine. Based on my theory, perhaps the women who were going to see her were women whose lives were too complicated to take responsibility for bringing a child into the world. Perhaps the man had left them, perhaps they did not have enough money, or God will know what their motives were. But I really want to believe those women had a very powerful reason to go to the witch. After that night when the witch tried to get into the apartment, my mother started looking for another place and in less than three months we moved to a neighborhood.

17:41 The place was a little smaller and the atmosphere with the neighbors was a bit unpleasant, but at least there were no witches nearby, of which we had to worry. Yet. To this day, which I share my story, I can' t help but think what the hell would have happened if my mother didn' t laugh that woman was a witch. What would have happened if the amulet hadn' t been there to keep the witch from coming in? I don' t have the answer, but I' m sure that, no matter what that Witch would have done to me, what is a fact and I know that you will agree with me, is that if that witch had managed to enter the house, I wouldn' t be here telling my story Witch' s problems. My name is Joaquin and three decades ago, when I was young, I lived in a colony where poverty was the norm, not the exception. Every morning, before the first ray of sun appeared from the horizon, the people of the colony were already standing. Men like me were preparing for long hours of work in distant constructions. Women began their day long before preparing food and making sure their children were ready for school.

19:04 The streets were filled with children in uniforms sometimes too large or worn out, running towards their schools. Children who did not go to school were preparing to accompany their parents to travel the avenues with their shopping carts. I, for one, was a worker, the work I was working on. It was an ambitious project, a series of apartment buildings. The work was hard, physically demanding and mentally exhausting. I spent my days between the dust and the noise of the machines, building walls. At that time I was single and with no more responsibilities than those of my own sustenance. Life was simple, but by that I don' t mean to have life easier than the rest of the colony' s inhabitants. In our colony lived a witch, although she did not live in the colony. When the witch arrived in the colony, the accounts of her origin were shared with me by neighbors whose families had resided there for many more years than I did. As I was told, the arrival of the witch in the colony was a mysterious event one night before I set foot in that place, she simply appeared occupying a house that was empty, at the far end of the colony, where the streets had no name and the lamps of light never shone. The house, he didn ' t buy it, he didn' t rent it, he just broke

20:37 into the house and stayed to live. No one knew where he was coming from or why he had chosen our colony to establish the house that had until then remained empty. After the departure of his former tenants, he became under his occupation. The neighbors recounted how, in the weeks following his arrival, the structure seemed to degrade at an accelerated pace, as if the very essence of the witch corrupted everything around him. Plants that once flourished in the garden now withered and died over time. The people of the colony began to notice strange events. Domestic animals disappeared without a trace and some claimed to see gloomy figures moving down the hallway of that house. Despite these disturbing signs, no one dared to confront her fearing to unleash her anger. The oldest in the colony whispered that the Witch had been attracted by the despair and misery that permeated the place, feeding on the energy of those who had lost all hope.

21:45 Others suggested that perhaps he had fled from somewhere far away, no one knew his real name and those who once knew did not live long enough to tell other people. The accounts of his curses were common. One of the most disturbing stories that deeply marked our colony was the incident with the children playing football in the middle of their game. The ball flew with an unfortunate trajectory, breaking one of the windows of the house where she was living, the witch. The children, consumed by panic, dispersed in the following days. The children who had been present at the game became seriously ill with fevers, high delusions and unexplained symptoms. They confined them to their beds, while their families desperately sought answers that medicine could not provide. The Community was convinced that the disease was a retaliation for the ballonazo, a curse thrown by the witch.

22:48 After that, parents banned their children from playing less than a block away from that house. What happened to those children was not an isolated event, but rather the beginning of a series of events that cemented the dreaded reputation of that woman who was engaged in witchcraft. Over time it became clear that any form of defiance or confrontation towards her, even something as involuntary as holding her gaze, was sufficient to provoke her anger. The stories began to accumulate each more disturbing than the previous one. One of the neighbors who, as he sold gum at the traffic lights, but we all knew he was assaulting, crossed a day in front of the witch. Like the children, he became inexplicably ill. Shortly thereafter his health deteriorated at an alarming rate. He had delusional panic attacks convulsions until he ended up dying. Another case was that of a young girl who had recently arrived in the colony, who for obvious reasons had just arrived because she knew nothing about the Witch. As I recall, it was said that this girl, in the morning she went to the witch' s door to ask her to stop making so much noise. The following days, the young woman began to suffer from nightmares so vivid that fear kept her awake at night, fearing to close her eyes. Among the many strange things

24:18 that happened in the colony. There was one thing that was repeated every year without fail, or at least it was repeated all the years that I was living there. From the last week of October, cats began to disappear, not stray cats, but cats that were from homes. That' s why the whole situation was so weird. If a cat that walks on the street disappears, that' s the explanation that walks on the street, but a cat that never leaves home cannot disappear. It doesn' t make sense. After they disappeared. On the third day of November in the wasteland that lay on the edge of our neighborhood, the dead bodies of the missing cats appeared to be like the dice in a circle, which made it more than obvious that this was the work of a ritual and as it was obvious that this was a ritual, it was also obvious that the ritual was done by the witch. One of the darkest episodes of the colony was the disappearance of Emiliano, a seven- year- old boy. One day without warning, Emiliano simply disappeared. The news of his disappearance was very strong for the whole colony, because Emiliano' s parents were the least poor in the colony. They were very shared. When someone needed to buy a kilo of tortillas, they could go ask them and they always behaved well. So, when his son disappeared, we all started looking for him, both in the colony and in the surrounding area. Searches were organized, groups of neighbors combed every street,

25:52 every house, every corner. All corners were searched, all except the house where the Witch lived. The situation was critical, but the fear we had was too much. It wasn' t that we didn' t mean to, but nobody had the courage. In fact, Emiliano' s parents didn ' t even suggest someone was going to do it, because they were too afraid of him, too. This may sound a little ugly. I mean, the fact that I didn' t check the house where the Witch lived. But, assuming the child was inside, it would be to confront the Witch and, assuming the child was not inside, it would have been to provoke the Witch' s wrath for nothing. So it wasn' t done.

26:34 One of the neighbors. He had a friend who was a cop and he pulled other cops to help with the search as well. But despite all efforts, there was no trace of the child. It was a month after his disappearance, when a neighbor, while gathering cans in the wasteland where the dead cats were each year, discovered something that felt like a huge bucket of cold water for everyone. There, semi- buried under the dry and cracked earth, were Emiliano' s tennis shoes as recognizable as the day he disappeared. There were no other remains, there was no sign of what could have happened to him only those tennis, but everyone from the center of the country knows what that means. No one dared say it, but I think I speak for everyone when I say that the impression we had was that the Witch had done something to the child. Maybe I had used it for a ritual no longer mattered, I had no case to keep looking for it. We weren' t going to find out what happened to Emiliano transformed the colony.

27:37 The parents, consumed by fear that the same might happen to one of their children, took drastic measures. Some decided that their children would only go to school, while others, dominated by even greater fear, chose not to let their children out even to attend school. In the next few months, a strong wave of bad streak hit us hard to all who their livelihood was the harvest. They saw their sales fall day by day as if the money had evaporated out of people' s pockets. The products were kept on the shelves.

28:17 Some others flat out are out of work. I got kicked out of the play. What was happening was impossible to ignore. It could not be mere coincidence that we were all being affected. The only explanation was that the presence of the Witch there in the colony had already become unsustainable. So, little by little, the fear we felt towards the Witch turned into resentment and courage. The bad streak that struck our colony seemed to have no end and with every passing day, the weight of our despair became more difficult to bear. In an attempt to escape, even for a few hours, from the oppressive reality of our lives. Sometimes neighbors and I meet in the small backyard of a house with a bottle of tequila as the only company. That' s when the conversation focused on the witch lowers the influence of alcohol. Someone no longer remembers who proposed that we should face her and teach her a lesson.

29:18 The senseless and dangerous idea resonated with a logic distorted by alcohol. We arm ourselves with a false value fed by drinking without a plan. Guided only by our imprudence, we headed towards the house where the witch lived already standing in front of the house, although, according to us we were very brave, no one dared to take the first step towards the door. We were paralyzed. I gathered courage or rather recklessness to be the first to move forward and knocked on the door. The sounds coming from inside the house a mixture of creaks and whispers barely perceptible suggested that someone was inside the house, but no one opened us. So we hit each other. The turn to leave.

30:04 It was at that moment, when we met in front of her. The witch was standing between us. There were no words, no gestures, only his disturbing and imposing presence. We ran wildly out. Everyone in their homes had taken such a strong impression that it took away my drunkenness and also took away my sleep. In the days that followed for three long days, the walls of my house became everything I saw. I didn' t have the courage to walk through the door and out into the street. On the fourth day, since I encouraged myself to leave the house, the first thing I did was to go and see the neighbors who went to the Witch' s house. It wasn' t long before the rumors that people, driven by the same fear and despair that had confined me to my home, were organizing themselves, were planning to take care of the Witch. She was believed to be taken out of the colony and, in case she could not be taken out alive, they had every intention of taking her out dead. At the time I found out, the details of the plan were scarce, but the purpose was clear. We all wanted to get her out of our lives for good by a group of neighbors. Those most affected by the poor economic and personal streak, those who had lost more than just income, but loved ones at the hands of mysterious diseases or disappearances, had decided that it was enough. They were convinced that any evil that had fallen upon the colony was

31:38 the work of the Witch and that only by eliminating it could we hope to recover so that it would be better for all of us. Finally, more than forty people arrived the night indicated we went out armed with stones collected in the streets, but there were some with much more hostile intentions. Those were carrying pistols at the time when the first mercies thrown with fury broke the windows and began to break the things inside the house. The witch was furious, but we didn' t give her time to do anything. The only thing that happened was that she left the house just to receive a rain of huge stones thrown hard. The witch had no escape. Still, gunmen shot at the witch. When all the tumult and tumult stopped, the witch was lying on the ground without life. To this day, every time I tell the story, there are people who don' t believe me that the woman was a real witch, but I know what she lived in that colony. The woman was a witch. That was a fact. No one can argue.

32:45 That experience marked a before and after, not only in my life, but in all those who at that time lived in the colony and also in those who still live in that colony. Some judge us, but the situation in our colony deteriorated day by day. Lost jobs and growing despair took hold of us. That' s why we decided to act that way. Working for a witch. In my family we have always had the belief that the events of our lives are out of our control, almost as if they were determined by fate long before they occurred. Not only did my great- grandfather face situations that seemed to be predestined, but this pattern has been repeated generation after generation. The history of my family is a series of challenges, adaptations and traditions that extend from my great- grandfather to me. It all began with him, who had to leave school and work in the countryside because of economic difficulties, following in the footsteps of his father. Despite the obstacles, he became a well- known cattle breeder, but his effort to close a significant deal was interrupted by natural disasters that ravaged his cattle, forcing him to start from scratch. My great- grandfather' s life changed dramatically when a drunk

34:19 man killed his animals, which meant a great loss in defense of his property, My great- grandfather made the drastic decision to kill the aggressor, resulting in a search for compensation according to local customs. This compensation included obtaining the blacksmith' s workshop from the deceased and eventually marrying his youngest daughter, introducing a new branch to our family. Despite the challenges, my great- grandfather was able to adapt by turning his land into a productive farm and keeping the blacksmith workshop under his guidance. His children, including my grandfather, specialized in different facets of agriculture and blacksmithing. The workshop inherited by my grandfather was the place where he met my grandmother over time. He cared about who would follow the legacy of the workshop, as he only had daughters. The solution came with a talented young man, son of a friend, who not only maintained the prestige of the workshop, but also raised it to new levels. This young man married the eldest daughter of my grandparents, my mother and so I was born during high school I started to help in my father' s workshop.

35:29 Now that responsibility is mine, not because I had no other options, but because, even having finished college, I decided to continue with the family tradition. Although I don' t work directly on the forge. My studies allowed me to transform smithy into a successful business. Now I' m running five employees. My role is focused on business management and management. My family ' s story challenges chance. It all began with a tragedy that marked my great- grandfather' s loss of almost all his animals, a devastating event that seemed to end his prosperity. This led my great- grandfather to marry the daughter of the man responsible for his misfortune from where my grandfather was born.

36:12 My grandfather, heir to the workshop, faced the dilemma of not having a male heir for the trade. The irony of fate caused him to look outside his family for someone capable of leading the workshop. That someone not only brought prosperity, but also married my mother. Therefore, in my family we believe that free will is an illusion and that our steps are already written in destiny. To what I want to come with all this is that the experience that I want to tell you, which happened to me because I managed the smithy, was not chance, but it was an experience that destiny already had chosen for me. In two thousand nineteen I had the honor of meeting Doña Mercedes, a distinguished lady of advanced age than that of a considerable fortune.

37:01 Doña Mercedes was in every way an enigma. Her way of speaking, her unique appearance and her conduct made her stand out. In these times, seeing someone who has tattoos even in his eyes may not surprise, but what is not normal, at least not in my city, is that a person his age is so tattooed. She has been the only woman already of senior age who wore a large amount of tattoos and, above all, what she highlighted was the style of the tattoos she wore. It is not common to see an older person covered in tattoos and much less an elegant woman of money, tattoos on her dolls that looked like eyes, looking deeply at the three triangles around her neck and a seven- pointed star hidden near her ear, were just a few examples. His fingers were decorated with rings, but not jewelry, but imitation tattoos. This form spread rumors among the workers about an even more spectacular tattoo that covered his back side by side, although I never had the opportunity to verify it personally. But not only did his tattoos attract attention.

38:13 The accessories he chose were equally unique and reflected his taste for the symbolic. He wore bracelets with crosses of atypical designs, a necklace with the shape of the triquette and earrings in the form of small skulls. I know that many of these elements can be common today, but considering their age and elegance, the appearance of Doña Mercedes really stood out and generated curiosity. Doña Mercedes ran a unique home for the care and training of young people. Ladies, this place similar to a boarding school, had spacious and well- kept facilities. The main building, with about four hundred square meters distributed over three floors, was complemented by a large courtyard for outdoor activities and special events. Admission to the home was selective, hosting a small group of residents to ensure detailed and personalized attention. Although the number of young people varied, it always remained between ten and fifteen, adjusting to the availability and distribution of the seven rooms, one individual for maximum privacy, two with bunk beds for two people each and four designed for three ladies, efficiently combining the space. The boarding school was not functioning at full capacity constantly. The admission criterion focused at a rather specific time on the life of young women, their first menstrual cycle, and

39:45 they could stay until they were seventeen years old. The financial contribution required by the parents was four thousand pesos per month, covering basic needs such as clothing food, hygiene products and, above all, an exceptional education. The teaching offered was far from conventional, including basic sciences such as chemistry and biology, and extended to more specialized and esoteric areas such as herbology, ancient history, theology, astrology, traditional medicine, geology, and ancient languages, among other rare subjects. One of the first tasks that Doña Mercedes entrusted me with was to redesign and replace the bars of all the windows of the boarding school.

40:30 Specifically for the small room window, a design was needed that subtly incorporated a staff. It had to harmonize with the general pattern of the fence without over - emphasizing at first sight. For the windows of the rooms with bunk beds, a design was required that included interlaced triangles, creating a complex geometric structure. As far as the remaining four rooms were concerned, they were meant for three people each. It called for a design of nine circles joined by lines extending in several directions, forming a kind of abstract medium network for all the other windows of the building. The design was to mix elements of a crescent moon and a sun. Never in all my years of experience in designing window bars had I received a project with such specific requirements and full of symbolism.

41:29 Doña Mercedes was extremely satisfied with the work done on her property, as the designs of the bars coincided perfectly with her vision. The effectiveness of my team allowed the project, from manufacturing to installation, to be completed in less than a week, as Doña Mercedes had requested. The production of the about twenty bars took us three days, we dedicated an extra day for painting and finally we installed everything in just one day after the installation of the bars and with my supervision to ensure that the team executed everything perfectly, Doña Mercedes invited us to eat. Its dining room was impressive, with a large glass table that could accommodate up to sixteen people. The elegance and breadth of the space reflected the care and attention to the details that Doña Mercedes put into every aspect of the boarding school. It was at that thank- you lunch that I first saw some of the young women living there. Until that time we were totally focused on measuring and installing the bars without encountering any of them. Despite our many visits to complete the work, his absence had not been noticeable until that day. I can' t tell you where they were during the installation, but clearly they had stayed away from our areas of work. When we sat down to eat with Doña Mercedes, some of the young women attended us.

43:00 What immediately caught my attention was his dress similar to a uniform, but with particularities that made it unique. They all wore black heels and stockings with a black skirt of medium length, but what really differentiated one young woman from another were the sweatshirts, which all wore the same design, but in different colors, red, dark blue, a tone between yellow and coffee and pure white. Five months after our initial collaboration, Doña Mercedes returned to the workshop with another proposal. I wanted to change the main gate of boarding school. The previous one was a common model of those, with metal bars that let them see from one side to the other. The design that Doña Mercedes imagined for this new gate followed the unique and detailed style of the projects that we had done before, although it did not include easily identifiable elements the whole suggested an inspiration of the Middle East, harmonizing perfectly with the designs that we had already installed on the grilles of the windows. One thing I forgot to mention at the beginning was that Doña Mercedes made it clear that neither I nor my collaborators should take pictures of the completed works. This condition, while limiting our opportunity to document and exhibit the magnitude of our work. The customer' s saying commands and is always right we have it written in great detail on the outside

44:30 front of the business. So, therefore, it' s something that we stick to without exception, understanding the importance of respecting our customers' preferences. After finishing the gate project, it was a long time, more than a year without Doña Mercedes taking over another project. However, this did not mark the end of our collaboration. On a regular basis, every two or three weeks, she visited the Workshop for Minor Works, such as repairing the lattice of a balcony or reinforcing the protections of the stairs. Doña Mercedes was always extremely kind during the time I met her. Although we were not friends in the most traditional sense, we had a close and friendly relationship. She used to share stories of her life and details about how she ran the boarding school.

45:24 One day out of curiosity, I asked him about who was in charge of teaching at his boarding school. I was surprised to discover that she herself took the role of principal educator, in addition to being the owner and administrator of the place. Not only did Doña Mercedes manage boarding school, but she also gave classes to young residents, teaching them from how to prepare food to various academic subjects. His dedication and preparation were impressive, clearly showing his ability to lead such a particular educational environment. However, a doubt persisted in my mind related to boarding school security. We live in times where the safety of women, especially young women, is a constant concern. I wondered how it was possible for Doña Mercedes to guarantee a safe environment for everyone, because I knew that the boarding school did not have the presence of guards or security measures in the face of possible adverse situations. This doubt arose from concern for the well- being of young women living in an exclusively female space. The idea that someone could try to enter the place without permission was a significant risk.

46:40 Doña Mercedes shared how she maintained security at boarding school. Catching my attention, he spoke of two occasions when they faced attempts at invasion by people with bad intentions. The first time was a man and the second three individuals. In both cases, the aggressors were neutralized in such a way that they ended up being sent directly to MORGUE. She claimed that part of the education she provided included preparing young women for any threat. Given his advanced age, it was hard for me to believe that he could teach physical self- defense techniques such as martial arts. When inquiring about the method of defense he taught, Doña Mercedes' response was ambiguous, implying that not only the physicist is a means of defense. This statement left me reflecting on the skills and knowledge that I might be transmitting to young women, although the absence of specific details made it difficult to determine exactly what it meant. At the beginning of February we received the visit of Doña Mercedes at the Workshop, who entrusted us with a task of considerable magnitude to replace all the doors, both the boarding school he ran and his own residence. Until that time, he had assumed that Doña Mercedes lived within the same boarding school, given her dedication and the close connection she seemed to have with the place. However, I was surprised to discover that,

48:14 although he spent much of his time there, he did not actually sleep at boarding school, but returned home every night. The project commissioned involved the manufacture and installation of a total of twenty doors distributed between thirteen in boarding school and seven in the house of Doña Mercedes. Each of these doors was to be designed in an exotic and unique style painted according to precise and ready specifications, to be placed promptly on Thursday of the first week of March. The accuracy at the date of delivery was such that no advance or delay in the installation was allowed, a request that, although peculiar, I did not question.

48:57 Given the volume and complexity of the work, the team and I organized ourselves meticulously to meet the deadline. The task we were entrusted with. This time it turned out to be much more complex and enigmatic than any previous project we had done. The twenty doors we had to make carried an unusually deep and mysterious symbolic burden. To accurately describe every detail incorporated into the design would be an almost impossible feat. However, the symbols selected to adorn them were of a peculiar nature. Among the symbols chosen was Horus' eye, accompanied by a pyramid. There was also a staff, there was the star of the Jews and there was another symbol that I had never seen before and I have never seen afterwards. I have no idea how to describe them to you, but I assure you that symbol was satanic. Each of these symbols was meticulously incorporated into the design of the doors, creating a visual harmony so precise that it challenged the creativity even of the most experienced in the field of design.

50:09 By showing the draft to a close friend who was an expert in design, his surprise was evident. He, with years of experience and a critical eye for details. He confessed that he would never have imagined such a perfect integration of such diverse elements. The day specified by Doña Mercedes, the doors were installed. The next few months. After the completion of the doors, we continue to work for Doña Mercedes on several minor projects. However, at the beginning of October, coinciding curiously with the arrival of a new bishop in the city, Doña Mercedes appeared in the workshop to tell me that she was going to close the boarding school. The reasons behind this decision were not revealed and his face showed no intention of going into details before leaving a envelope containing a generous amount of money, accompanied by two sets of keys. The instructions were clear. He had to go both to boarding school and to his house on October 25th to remove the twenty doors. The most peculiar thing about his request was the fate he had to give to the metal of the doors.

51:17 I had to melt it and then get rid of it in the way I thought it was appropriate, as long as I didn' t reuse the metal to put together another job. The money in the envelope was more than enough to follow his instructions without questioning his motives. Despite the strange request, I complied with the request. However, once the metal was melted, I could not get rid of it so easily. Instead of getting rid of the metal as I had suggested, I kept it in a corner of the workshop where it has remained ever since. What happened next added a new level of mystery to the already intriguing history of the gates. My left- over obstacles began to report strange experiences related to molten metal. According to them, as they passed near the place where it was kept, they heard female voices whispering indecipherable words. People of Bruges called me Alma and I grew up in a place that many would not believe that there is a small town in Mexico so remote that the dirt road that connects it with civilization seems to be erased with every rain, a place whose name I cannot pronounce, a town whose location must remain hidden Here, between mountains and fields things happen the people where I was raised in root, in stories and legends that challenge the passage of time and

52:52 modern understanding. My Aunt Mariana, whose teachings and practices have become an integral part of my own conception of the world. He often shared accounts of the origin of our people. According to the stories I have heard in my family, our village was founded at a time when the world was very different. It is said that when the Spanish Catholics began their crusade of conquest and death, they could not set foot within the people, because they found in our people an insurmountable barrier, not of walls or weapons, but of fear. Everyone was afraid of the witches who lived here. The witches of our people are the most dangerous in all of Mexico. But it is neither by particularly powerful lineage nor by a practice of witchcraft superior to that of other regions of Mexico. The true strength of our people resided in the unique energy of Earth itself, an energy detected by our ancestors, who, endowed with a deep sensitivity to spiritual currents, chose this place as their settlement. This energy of is loved, as powerful and pure, was seen as the perfect environment to foster and develop the capabilities of those inclined towards the occult arts. The earth beneath our feet is said to cover the remains of a massacre. As I understand it, about a thousand years ago, the Aztecs, in their expansion and dominion, massacred the inhabitants of a rival people. Among the victims of

54:24 this brutality were sorcerers of great power, whose blood shed without opportunity for defense or resistance, permeated the land with a deep and lasting essence. The tragic and abrupt way of their deaths, without the possibility of fighting or running away, sealed their energy on the ground, creating an exo of power that would last through the centuries. This energy absorbed by the earth has created a sea of cultivation for the witches of our people to flourish with unprecedented potential. It is in this unique context that my Aunt Mary, like the witches before her, has been able to explore and expand her skills beyond the known limits elsewhere.

55:08 My childhood unfolded on a stage that for any stranger would seem to be extracted from a distant time, a place where the grey sky and dense fog were as constant as the mystery that enveloped every corner and every whisper of the wind. In this small town there are more than ten witches, but not those tales that fly in brooms or nonsense of those witches. Indeed, some two hundred and fifty years ago, the founders of the people settled in these lands, guided by visions to learn to live with the energy emanating from the earth. It was not an easy task for those early inhabitants. The energy, though powerful and pure, was so overwhelming that life in the early years was quite complicated. The witches were the ones who had the greatest responsibility, for they were the ones who received all that energy and it was not an option. If the witches did not absorb the energy, the other people who were not witches would not have been able to even last one night in the area for the first few years. Several of them of the witches who at that time did not completely understand the magnitude of the force they were dealing with, lost their lives consumed by the intensity of an energy that they failed to contain within their bodies. What I' m going to say is perhaps not the best comparison I could do, but just to give them an idea.

56:37 Imagine that the fact that the first witches tried to contain all the energy emanated from him even trying to make their bodies like transistors was like being at the epicenter of an atomic bomb. That' s how bad the first witches in our town had. As the centuries passed the new witches. Let' s say that by instinct they were already learned, seeing how to keep the energy controlled inside their bodies. Currently, in my family there is a witch, my Aunt Mariana and before her, the family witch was Grandma Ruth. But not all families have a witch and our family doesn' t have so many witches in their history. How it was that my family had the right for the first time goes back to an episode that happened in those turbulent times of the Revolution. One afternoon, a man arrived in our village. His agitated breath and his fear- filled eyes revealed that he was fleeing pursued by the Zapatista forces. This man desperate to find a safe haven, sought the help of the witches of our people, imploring protection against those who followed in the footsteps. However, in those times of revolution, many of our witches sympathized with the Zapatista cause. Thus, one after the waves refused to lend their help by holding firm their position and ideals. Attention escalated until, in an

58:07 act of despair and fury, the man pulled out his weapon and murdered one of the witches. According to the ancient traditions of our people, when a witch was killed, her family lost the right to continue their lineage and the cloak of witchcraft had to pass to another family the Why traditions are so The truth I do not know. Yes, I have asked, but no one has been able to tell me why that has been the case since the founders arrived in these lands. Too many centuries have passed to have the data among the other witches. They decided that a woman in my family would be chosen to take the place of that witch. When she died, my great- grandmother took the place, then Grandma Ruth and now the family witch is my Aunt Mariana. It is essential to clarify a point that has often been misinterpreted beyond our limits. Neither my Aunt Mariana nor any of the witches who have been part of my family were born witches from the moment of our birth.

59:12 Every woman in this village carries with a unique predisposition a kind of witch gene for using a metaphor that, although not scientifically precise, helps to understand the point I want to explain. This predisposition does not automatically ensure our transformation into witches. Rather it gives us the potential capacity to develop ourselves as such depending on certain circumstances, which would be very difficult for me and I would have to extend a lot. Let' s just let it all depend on the circumstances. Tradition dictates that there should always be a specific number of witches within the village. This balance is sacred and has remained unalterable over the years, although the reasons behind this rule, as well as the explanation to the vast majority of our traditions, have been lost with the passing of the centuries What is known is that, at the time of the death of one witch, another must take its place that very day of preference must be a witch who has blood ties to the newly deceased witch. However, this succession is not exempt from certain specifications. There are times when, despite the predisposition of the women of the deceased witch, no woman in the family is ready to take on the mantle of witch. In these circumstances we face a profound dilemma.

1:00:39 The first option is for a family man to temporarily take the place of the witch, assuming responsibility until he makes the decision to appoint a witch, for which it may take up to a year, because if the man took the position it is because no woman was ready. The second option is that if there is not a family man who can take the place of the witch either, just as it happens when a witch is killed, the rest of the witches are the ones who choose another family so that the right to witch changes place. I understand that listening to it like that, from good to good, may sound a little messy, but it' s actually pretty simple.

1:01:22 I was born with the option of becoming a witch, just like all the women in my family, but I really don' t think I' ll ever become a witch at some point, because my sisters are more focused on that, and at this point the family witch is my Aunt Mariana. She became a witch when Grandma Ruth passed away. Although witches, in their essence, do not seek conflicts or have hostile behaviors towards the people of the people, there is an invisible line that we have all learned not to cross, in the sense of not disturbing them, of not provoking them. From a young age I was taught that even having a witch in the family would not put me, safe from the consequences of provoking them or disrespecting them. If someone in our family were to incur the wrath of a witch, my Aunt Mariana would refrain from intervening, not for lack of love or care, but because a witch' s duty to impartiality is stronger than blood ties. This neutrality is essential to its practice and its role within the people. Not because witches must be indifferent to their family, but because if witches take sides, a war would be unleashed between witches and the people would burn in less than twenty- four hours. This unwritten rule maintains peace and prevents conflicts that could trigger clashes between witches, which would be disastrous for all. The history of

1:02:52 our people is permeated by stories that serve as warnings small discords that escalated into real storms, natural disasters, diseases or tragedies, such as fires that in ancient times consumed homes. Although witches rarely extended their discord towards the inhabitants of the village, rivalries between them could be intense and sometimes dangerous. These disputes arose not from everyday misunderstandings or personal enmity, but one of the most common sources of witch rivalry comes from competition for customers. When a client moved for reasons that only he knows, decided to switch from one witch to another, he was indirectly interpreted with an indication that one witch was better than another.

1:03:40 And, of course, no witch likes her ability, her abilities and, above all, her power that that of them has been called into question. The consequences of these rivalries could manifest themselves in subtle ways, such as, for example, that one witch caused the other to get damaged at home or interfere with one of her jobs. But if a witch took a situation like that as something very personal. Tragedies could occur the most common were fires. Even though our people could go unnoticed by the casual traveler, they have unceasingly attracted a steady flow of foreigners. These visitors seek something that only our people, with their peculiar congregation of witches, can offer them. The variety of services requested from witches in our village is so wide that, if I start talking about all the jobs, I can stay here for hours. Some seek desperate cures for finding relief to evils that science and modern medicine have been unable to mitigate. Others ask for moorings that promise to tie their destinies to those of their loved ones. There are also those who seek covenants of fortune that ensure success and, of course, there are those who ask for precisions against curses. For us, the inhabitants of the village, this constant going and coming from outsiders has become part of us. Day by day, we have

1:05:11 become accustomed to unknown faces, to foreign accents. Aunt Mariana, in the shadow of her home, smelling of herbs and wet soil, did all kinds of work. Among the works that my aunt Mariana performed was one that, by its intimate and profound nature, was especially requested by those whose hearts longed for an unbreakable union. The bottle of eternal love. The bottle of eternal love was not a common object. Each was created with a specific intention. The small but robust clay container was designed to contain the very essence of the relationship. Nails and hair were deposited inside the bottle from both the person who was applying for the job, as well as the person for whom the job was directed. In case my aunt had the impression that the job was going to require a force majeure, she had to add an additional ingredient inside the bottle, a very particular fluid, which I prefer not to mention. The cork that sealed. The bottle was then anointed with three different oils, each with a specific purpose. To foster love, passion, and faithfulness with the sealed vessel, a ritual was performed in which the person who requested the work had to make a blood covenant. The bottle of eternal love was buried in the old cemetery of the village. I take this opportunity to comment that in

1:06:41 the village we have two cemeteries, the old and the new. For about forty- five years, no one has been buried in the old cemetery, only in the new cemetery. This was done because the fame of the witches here increased so much that the number of jobs required to be closed under pantheon soil increased greatly, and so the decision was made that the old cemetery would be used only for the witches' jobs. My aunt, like all witches, also worked with Santa Muerte and since Santa is jealous, because the kind of rituals my aunt performed involving Santa Muerte, they had to have their own variant. For example, the ritual variant of the eternal love bottle was completely different when it was made for a worshiper of the Holy Death to perform this ritual. The central element was not a bottle, but the personal garments of the people involved. The pledge of the desired person was of vital importance the more use and contact with the body the better, as it was considered to contain the purest essence of its being. A pledge from the applicant was placed next to it. These garments, among the sons, were kept inside a bag made of specific fabrics and materials selected for their ability to contain and amplify the spiritual energy invoked. The ritual continued with the invocation of the Holy Death,

1:08:15 asking for his blessing and assistance to irrevocably unite the lives of the people represented by the garments. My Aunt Mariana was also a teacher in the creation of talismans and amulets for those seeking change. In his fortune, each object was carefully crafted and loaded with clear intentions, often under the light of the new moon, to bring new opportunities and prosperity. Although my aunt always advocated peaceful conflict resolution, when a client was determined to seek revenge, work was done on full moon nights. My Aunt Mariana carried out one of the most requested rituals by those who wished to see fortune in their lives. This ritual designed to attract money with some ease, required meticulous preparation. The ritual components were simple, but powerful. A blank sheet representing the new opportunities, green painting, symbolizing prosperity, several coins of any denomination as a symbol of material wealth, a five hundred bill that served as a focus to attract larger sums and three green candles that channeled the energy of abundance. The heart of the ritual was carried out under the direct light of the moon, taking advantage of its power to enhance magic. My aunt started by placing the three identical green candles in shape and size, forming a triangle on an altar prepared in the

1:09:47 open air in the center of this triangle carefully placed the coins and the five hundred bill, creating a symbolic link between the applicant' s present means of fortune and the desired riches. Now let me describe, with the requested precision, one of the most performed rituals by my Aunt Mariana, who was destined to ward off the bad luck of those who felt an invisible weight hindering their ways. This ritual, known for its effectiveness and the uniqueness of its process, was especially appreciated in our people. The first stage of the ritual involved the use of incense in grain, a purifying element that served to cleanse the environment from negative energies and to invoke protection during the process, with incense already lit by shedding its smoke. My aunt proceeded to bathe three large nuts once the nuts had been adequately impregnated with incense smoke. The next step was to paint each one with red nail polish. The last step of the ritual was to place the already painted nuts and a rough leaf in a bag of cloth, and so I could continue to talk. But I think with this little information, it' s enough for them to have a perspective, even moderately, on where I live and the things that happen here. The narrative of our life in this village often seems to challenge the common perception of modernity.

1:11:18 Don' t even think we' re living in the middle ages. We have Internet light, even in the suburbs the bikes buzz like mosquitoes. There ' s a gas station about 20 miles away. However, not everything in our people has embraced modernity completely. An aspect where we are out of date in the lack of implementation of a drainage system. While the water runs, it is because here relatively close there are two great rivers. Everything I' ve shared in these twenty minutes has not been intended to scare or impress anyone further away. Just what I' ve been through is I' ve seen a lot of people talk too much, but all people think they know powerful witches and witches that are dangerous. And I' m not saying no.

1:12:08 What I' m saying is the reality is that the strongest witches are in my village. This isn' t because I say so. When the Spanish Catholics were killing witches, they razed women from all over, not only from Mexico, but from many countries of the continent, but here, from this people, they could not enter because the witches here are truly dangerous. One last thing. I mention that neither God could protect anyone from the power of witches. That' s true. People have come here to pay for the death of nuns, priests and even a couple of bishops through witchcraft. So what I' m saying is not exaggerated. Not even those people, in God' s service, can survive the attack of one of our witches.

1:12:56 Stories written and adapted by Ramiro contreras