Iglesia Maldita Por La Muerte De Un Sacristán Historias De Terror - REDE

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There are moments and decisions in life
that we would often wish to return in

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time to do things differently in this
way. But, to everyone' s

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misfortune, life doesn' t work
this way. You must always bear the

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consequences of your actions, a lesson
that I learned from a very young age

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and not in a good way.
It all started on a hot Easter vacation

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afternoon. After our water balloon pranks
were abruptly interrupted, we found ourselves not

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knowing what to do. Suggestions for
games and activities were rejected until Thomas,

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the group' s largest boy,
proposed the idea of visiting the abandoned church.

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The mere mention of the church generated
a buzz of emotion among us.

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The stories about that place were legendary
in our village. It was said that

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it was built on cursed ground and
that since the first day it had been

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plagued with strange phenomena, things like
shadows moving on the walls cold air even

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on the hottest days, and the
accounts about the appearance of a woman with

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a horse face were just some of
the stories that were told about that place.

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But the story that always pointed at
anyone who listened to her was that

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of the sacristan Doroteo. Doroteo was
an older man who used to be in

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charge of keeping the church in order. He often mocked the stories about the

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place, ensuring that they were nonsense
and that his faith in Christ protected him

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from any evil. One night,
however, while cleaning the Church, he

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heard noises coming from the bell tower. Apparently, he decided to investigate and

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climbed the stairs, which he found
up there. No one knows for sure,

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but the next day his body was
discovered with an expression of terror engraved

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on his face. After his death, the church was closed and abandoned.

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Our parents were strictly forbidden to play
around, as they said it was dangerous

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because of the old structures. But
that did not stop our curiosity of that

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day we went to the Church despite
the warnings of some. Thomas' enthusiasm

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dragged us all to the Church.
When we arrived we stopped in front of

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their old wooden doors. The details
were architectural, though covered with moss and

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dust, they were still impressive.
The lock that closed the door was so

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old that it was enough to move
it a little so that it would open

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and with a creak. The doors
opened slowly before us as if the same

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structure were inviting us in. The
interior was wrapped in shadows only s s

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s s ns by the rays of
light that filtered through broken windows. The

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air was filled with a smell of
moisture and dust and the silence was overwhelming.

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We' re moving cautiously down the
main hallway. Our steps resounded on

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the stone floor. The wooden benches
were covered with dust and cobwebs. As

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we explored I could feel the tension
growing between us and even though none of

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us wanted to admit it, we
were all scared to death of being there.

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As we approached the bell tower,
the atmosphere seemed to become more oppressive.

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The wooden stairs creaked under our feet
as we climbed each step was filled

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with a sense of fear. Finally
we reached the door leading to the bell

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tower and with a sigh we pushed
her. What we found on the other

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side disappointed us a little, as
it looked like any bell tower barely illuminated

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by the light leaking through the slits
of the walls. Luckily, some of

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us were carrying flashlights. Suddenly a
sinister sound resonated around us. My friends

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and I looked at each other nervously, wondering what the hell could be causing

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that noise. But before we could
even formulate a theory, the atmosphere suddenly

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changed in the middle of darkness.
One of my friends came up with a

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scream, scaring us all. That
fear dissipated when we realized it was just

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a joke, although we all began
to laugh we were still nervous about the

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tension that had filled the air.
While trying to recover from that scare,

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Thomas called us to approach where he
was. As we got closer, we

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saw what had caught his attention.
A Ouija board dust r on the ground

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with traces of candle wax around it
I clearly remember as a chill. He

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toured my back when he saw her. I' d heard a lot of

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stories about that cursed artifact and none
of them was comforting. I could see

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the faces of my friends who shared
my uneasiness as I watched the board on

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the floor Thomas trying to sound brave, as he always raised it and suggested

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that it probably belonged to some boys
who were going to make pacts with the

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devil. And although his explanation seemed
credible, the fact that he had that

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board in his hands was disturbing.
Someone in the group questioned more about how

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to play what he immediately claimed he
did. Some of us began to incite

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him to prove it and, although
he seemed to doubt it, it was

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obvious that he did not want to
retract his words, so with a feigned

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value, Thomas put the board on
the ground and sank placed the pointer on

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the daughter before uttering the words.
If there was anyone there. For a

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few moments nothing happened. The heavy
silence fell upon us while we waited for

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an answer. But then the pointer
began to move slowly towards the position of

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itself. Many of us accused Thomas
of moving him, but he swore he

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hadn' t. We all distrusted
his words and called him a liar.

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Suddenly, a chill swept through when
I felt a cold and oppressive presence in

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the room. The hairs on the
back of my neck stood as I looked

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around for some sign of what was
happening, but all I could see was

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the daughter board on the ground with
my heart. Beating hard, I looked

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at my friends looking for comfort in
their faces, but what I found was

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the reflection of my own fear.
I could not ignore the feeling that we

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had unleashed forces beyond our control.
As the huija table pointer kept moving and

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pointing at unknown responses. I knew
we were in an unknown territory. The

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presence in the room intensified, enfolding
us all in an aura of terror.

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Just when I thought I couldn'
t get more disturbing. The bells began

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to ring with a deafening force.
The sound was so overwhelming that I had

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to cover my ears to protect myself
from noise. The environment became suffocating to

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such an extent that none of us
could stand it. The more we ran

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out of the bell tower. As
we ran I could only hear my friends

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' short breaths and the echo of
our hasty steps. At one point I

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realized I couldn' t hear my
friends behind me anymore. I wondered why,

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but I didn' t stop to
find out. I went on desperate

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to escape from that cursed place.
I found myself in front of a door.

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I figured it was the exit and
I tried to open it, but

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it was locked. When I stopped
trying to open it and stood still in

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the dark, I heard what seemed
to be pitiful tears coming from behind the

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door, I felt a hand on
my shoulder and gave a choked cry of

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surprise. I turned around and saw
Tomás, who insisted on me leaving there,

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nodded, grateful that I was not
alone at that terrifying moment. We

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both left the church to meet the
rest of my friends outside. They were

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all agitated and trembling, but none
of them wanted to mention anything we had

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experienced within the abandoned church. We
knew we couldn' t tell anyone about

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what we went into that place and, moreover, we knew that no one

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would believe us as we walked away
from the church. I couldn' t

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get out of my head the sound
of that pitiful cry behind the closed door,

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but I decided to keep that detail
for myself trying not to scare my

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friends any more, not knowing that
the nightmare was just starting for me.

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When we got home, everything seemed
abnormal. My parents didn' t even

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seem to have noticed my absence,
which reassured me a little bit and after

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dinner, I decided to take a
bath to relax after the terrifying experience.

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As I washed my hair and closed
my eyes to soap me I heard a

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slight snap that made me open my
eyes at once. To my surprise,

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the bathroom was dark, my heart
was beating hard on my chest. While

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trying to understand what was happening.
I heard my mother scream from the outside

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that she had gone into the light, but that didn' t reassure me

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at all. Then to my ears
came the sound of the pitiful weeping I

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had heard in the church. The
crying began to increase in intensity and thanks

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to the light of the moon leaking
through the window, I could distinguish a

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silhouette on the other side of the
curtain, from the shower, It looked

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like the figure of a hooded man, with his shoulders bent and a sinister

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presence. Fear invaded me, making
me tremble from head to toe, but

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arming me with courage. I slowly
approached the curtain and pushed it away with

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a sudden movement, but in doing
so I found that there was no one

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there. I looked around confused and
frightened as I tried to understand what had

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just happened, as I sought the
light back allowed me to see more clearly

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that I was completely alone in the
room. I tried to calm myself by

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telling myself that I was only suggested
by everything that had happened that night in

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the church. I decided to finish
my bath as quickly as possible and leave

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feeling the weight of fear still clinging
to my back. Every shadow seemed to

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come alive in the dark and every
little noise made me jump out of fear,

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but I repeated to myself that everything
was just a product of my imagination,

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a natural reaction after an experience as
frightening as the one I had just

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lived. When I finally came out
of the bathroom and went to my room,

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I tried to leave behind the disturbing
thoughts that haunted me, I got

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into bed and closed my eyes hoping
that the dream would take me away from

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those dark and terrifying memories. The
darkness enveloped my room when I finally closed

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my eyes, but my mind was
still tormented by the disturbing images and sounds

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of the abandoned church plus what had
just happened to me in the bathroom.

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I tried to get those thoughts out
of my mind by focusing on the tranquility

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of my room, but as time
went by I realized that something was not

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right. A feeling of restlessness gripped
me as if I was being watched by

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something dark and evil. In the
darkness of my room. I turned around

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in bed desperately looking for a source
of comfort, but all I found was

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a sense of oppression and fear.
Then I heard a faint, chilling whisper

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right next to my ear. I
froze in my place, feeling a chill

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running through my spine, while trying
to figure out where that sound came from.

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My hands held fast to the Sheets
and my heart began to beat very

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hard. The whisper grew louder and
I soon realized that I was there filling

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the whole room with his presence.
I tried to block him, to keep

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him away from my mind, but
he seemed to follow me wherever I went.

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Then, as if it were a
distant echo, I began to hear

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again the pitiful crying that had resounded
in the church. The sound filled me

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with an indescribable sense of dread,
as if I was being dragged back into

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those moments of terror and despair.
Desperate to free me from that nightmare.

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I got out of bed and ran
to the door of my room. My

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hands were shaking as I grabbed the
door knob, feeling the urge to escape

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from that darkness. With a sharp
twist, I opened the door and ran

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down the hall. I didn'
t even know where I was going.

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I just knew I wanted to get
out of my room. I was walking

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down the hall. When I felt
a presence behind me, I turned around

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slowly. The corridor was endlessly spreading
in the dark and my breathing became cut

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short as I struggled to contain the
panic that was beginning to overwhelm me.

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That' s when I saw him
a dark, hooded figure materialized in front

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of me with empty eyes fixed on
mine. I tried to scream, but

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I couldn' t. As I
receded feeling a paralyzing fear taking over my

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body, the figure slowly approached each
step resounding in the silence of the corridor.

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I tried to retreat, to escape
his gaze, but my feet seemed

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to be stuck to the ground.
I felt trapped and helpless before that entity.

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That' s when the entity took
off the hood, revealing a rotting,

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pricked face that made me turn back
in horror. His empty eyes seemed

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to penetrate into the depths of my
soul, filling me with terror and indescribable.

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As I struggled to process what I
saw, I screamed loudly across the

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hall, alerting my parents who were
quickly worried, but when they came to

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where I was, they found me
only trembling with fear. I tried to

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explain to them what I had seen, the deformed face and the dark presence

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that had stalked me in the darkness
of the hallway, but my words seemed

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to fall on deaf ears, as
my parents attributed my experience to a simple

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nightmare. They tried to reassure me
that everything was fine and that it had

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only been the product of my imagination. In the depths of my being I

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knew that what I had experienced had
been real. The sense of terror and

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despair I had felt could not have
been just a dream. But I resigned

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myself to keep my thoughts to myself, knowing that it would be useless to

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try to convince my parents otherwise.
The next day, while meeting my friends,

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I decided to ask him about his
experiences after leaving the abandoned church.

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But everyone denied seeing or feeling anything
out of the ordinary. After leaving,

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I felt confused and frustrated, wondering
why he seemed to be the only one

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that entity had followed. As the
days passed, the memory of that terrifying

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night kept stalking me, filling me
with persistent fear that I could not shake.

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Each shadow seemed to hide the threat
of that dark entity and every sound

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made me jump out of fear.
Over time, my quality of life began

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to be significantly affected. My nights
became an endless nightmare, plagued by terrifying

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encounters. With the spirit of the
sacristan, who seemed to have adhered to

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me every time I closed my eyes, I found myself facing him, feeling

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his cold breath in my neck as
I struggled to escape. Then insomnia took

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over me. I couldn' t
sleep easily anymore. My days became a

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haze of fatigue and anxiety. Apart
from not sleeping well, I wasn'

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t eating all that was affecting me
enough. My mother, worried about my

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condition, decided to take me to
the village healer for help. From the

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moment I set foot in his house, I knew I was standing in front

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of someone who understood the dark forces
that were stalking me, for with a

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simple glance. The healer knew that
he had played with things he should not

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have and that he had attracted the
attention of an evil spirit that had adhered

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to me. The healer performed several
clean and protective rituals, trying to free

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me from the dark influence that had
consumed me. As the days progressed,

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it became clear that the spirit had
no intention of leaving me so easily it

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seemed to cling to me with unrelenting
force, patiently waiting for its opportunity to

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claim my soul. The only thing
the healer could do for me was give

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me some protective amulets, shields against
the dark forces around me, and I

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held on to them in despair,
hoping that they would be enough to keep

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me more secure story written and adapted
by Aurora. Escalante