La Maldición De Una Entidad Sonriente Historias De Terror - REDE

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It was a hot one. Late
summer I was walking home after a long

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day of work. The sun was
beginning to hide on the horizon. Suddenly

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there was a vehicle accident, which
I witnessed. Front row. A motorcyclist

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had violently crashed into a car at
the intersection right in front of me.

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He didn' t wear a helmet
and the impact had been so brutal that

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it was hard to describe. I
was paralyzed watching people rush to help as

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the inert body lay on the pavement. I' ve never seen anything like

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it before. The shock went through
me, leaving me breathless and with my

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heart pounding hard on my chest.
The images of the accident were repeated over

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and over again in my mind,
while I was shocked. I noticed how

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the body of the wrecked and bloody
bicycle engine began to move. At first

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it was barely perceptible as a mild
tremor, but then its broken limbs twisted

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as if it were desperately trying to
get up. The panic took hold of

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me when his blood- injected eyes
nailed into mine. It was an empty,

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lifeless look and then his face was
distorted into a grotesque smile, twisting

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into a grimace that did not belong
to this world. A chill swept through

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my spine when the biker started laughing. But the weirdest thing of all was

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that no one else seemed to notice
the horrifying scene before his eyes. People

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continued their lives as if nothing extraordinary
was happening. Some kept talking on their

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phones informing their acquaintances about the accident. Others talked among themselves about the dangers

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of the street one, and others
simply ignored the scene and continued on their

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way. It was as if only
I could see the real nightmare unfolding.

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I gathered enough strength to turn around
and run away from that place. My

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feet hit the asphalt hard as I
walked away as fast as I could.

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The biker' s laughter was still
ringing in my ears, tormenting me with

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his macabre tone. When I got
home, I staggered at the door with

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my heart still hammering in my chest
hard. I closed the door behind me

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with trembling hands, ignoring the knot
of anxiety that twisted in my stomach,

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I headed towards the couch and fell
into it with a sigh. I tried

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to convince myself that everything had been
just an illusion, a product of my

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mind disturbed by trauma, Despite the
exhaustion that weighed on my eyelids, I

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fell on the couch and closed my
eyes, But when I did, my

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memories led me to what I had
witnessed that afternoon. The memories of the

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accident were still in my mind.
I tried to forget everything, turning on

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the TV slowly fell asleep. It
was in the middle of the night that

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I woke up suddenly with my heart
with a strong tachycardia that the blinking light

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of the TV filled the room and
a cold sweat covered my forehead. As

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I struggled to catch my breath,
I turned off the TV and got off

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the couch. At that moment,
the memory of the accident faded from my

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mind. I was thinking more about
just going back to sleep in my room.

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As I was heading towards the hallway
leading to my room, a disturbing

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sound broke the silence of the night. It was a deaf noise, like

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the crackling of broken branches under the
weight of something heavy. I was wondering

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what might be causing such a commotion
in my jar at that time of night.

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I thought I' d forget it
and go to sleep. The sound

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was repeated again. I recalled that
my neighbors had been complaining about dogs,

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which broke garbage bags, so,
taking a flashlight, I decided to go

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out and check. Everything seemed quiet. The ground was slightly lit by the

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moonlight and the air was fresh.
I walked into the area, where I

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used to put my garbage bags,
but when I got there I realized that

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my garbage was intact, seeing that
I had nothing more to worry about I

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turned around to come back and heard
a noise next to the garden, so

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I lit up as I approached.
But then, just before arriving, the

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flashlight suddenly went out. Admiring myself
in the light darkness, I hit the

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side of the flashlight a couple of
times trying to turn it on, but

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I only heard faint flashes. A
sudden noise made me jump. It was

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like the sound of something falling to
the ground. My muscles strained instinctively as

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I turned to the origin of the
noise with my heart beating strongly. It

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was then that the light of the
flashlight lit again, revealing the distorted figure

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of a man, but it was
not any man. He was the motorcyclist

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of the car accident. His grotesque
smile cut the darkness with a malevolent glow

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and his twisted limbs shook with a
macabre vibra. Terror wrapped me up like

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an icy blanket. As my mind
receded, I struggled to process the nightmare

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that was in front of me I
dropped the flashlight when my feet instinctively moved

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back. Far from that living horror, I ran to the safety of my

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house. As I tried to contain
the panic that threatened to consume me completely.

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The next morning I had no choice
but to leave my home. To

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tell the truth I didn' t
want to do it Under the sunlight I

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felt a little calmer, but the
feeling of restlessness still persisted in the depths

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of my being as I walked through
the park that was on my way to

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work. A feeling of discomfort invaded
me when I noticed the absence of children

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who used to run and laugh in
the playground. Instead, everyone was standing

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in silence, watching me frowning feeling
a chill to my spine when I noticed

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the expression on their faces was the
same wild and sinister smile I had seen

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on the biker the night before.
A knot of terror formed in my stomach.

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When I realized that every child showed
that macabre grimace I gave a loud

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cry of horror, calling the attention
of the people walking nearby. I looked

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around for help, hoping to find
some confirmation that what I saw was not

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real, that everything was just an
illusion. No one else seemed to notice

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the strange transformation that was taking place
before his eyes. People continued their lives

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as if nothing was out of place, ignoring the horrific scene that unfolded before

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them. It was like he was
trapped in a nightmare world. Only I

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could see that. I walked away
from the park as fast as I could

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feel the terror. With every step
I took. My thoughts revolved with confusion

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and fear, wondering if I was
losing my sanity or if something much darker

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was happening. Upon arriving at work, I found myself unable to concentrate on

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my usual tasks. The image of
the children with their twisted smiles continued to

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torment me. I felt like I
was on the edge of crazy. There

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was no explanation, which could give
that it did not end up generating even

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more doubt. I felt like I
was about to freak out from that fateful

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day. My life had been a
descent into the darkness. It didn'

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t matter if I was awake or
asleep. The entity seemed to enjoy tormenting

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me mercilessly in my work, in
the street, in the privacy of my

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home. I always felt a penetrating
look, as if someone was watching me

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from anywhere, and when I was
able to locate the person watching me,

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I always found myself with the same
scary vision, a twisted and disfigured smile

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as I had seen on the biker' s face. On that afternoon,

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every encounter filled me with a sense
of horror. The nights were no better.

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These were filled with strangers, dreams, almost for the most part,

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with an obese man, who had
a strange blue countenance. That man always

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seemed to be making fun of me
for those reasons I hardly slept, causing

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my quality of life to be affected. Day by day, desperate to find

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some peace, I decided to return
to my hometown, seeking refuge in the

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calm of rural life, but even
there the shadow of the entity that was

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chasing me seemed to disturb me.
My mother, seeing my state exhausted and

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afflicted, finally confronted me, wondering
what was happening to me. I tried

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to evade their questions, fearing that
by talking about it I would only feed

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my own fears, just like my
mother' s. But there came a

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time when I could no longer hide
the truth. I told my mother about

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the disturbing visions and encounters I had
experienced since that afternoon when I witnessed that

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car accident. His face paled as
he listened to my words and I could

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see the worry and fear reflected in
his eyes. My mother told me that

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I needed to talk to my grandfather, because if anyone knew anything about all

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that was him. Those words intrigued
me. I was wondering why my grandfather

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would know anything about it. My
mother refused to tell me anything else,

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so I went to my grandfather'
s house. I had seen my grandfather

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only a few times during my childhood. He was a reserved man who preferred

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solitude. At that time I was
clinging to the hope that he could have

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answers to the questions that tormented me. When I arrived at my grandfather'

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s house, he invited me over
to my mother, I had already told

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her my situation. He offered me
a cup of tea. The taste of

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tea was unusual. I felt an
immediate relief when I took the first few

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sips. It was as if a
darla weight had risen from my chest,

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allowing me to breathe easily. For
the first time in a long time I

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looked at my grandfather asking what that
tea was about That' s when my

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grandfather started telling me the truth about
a curse that had fallen on our family.

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He told me that he himself had
experienced similar visions in his youth,

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like my father before me, and
that it was a curse that passed from

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parents to children. They were not
sure which of the children would inherit it.

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I asked him what exactly was following
us, but my grandfather could only

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shrug his shoulders in response. No
one in our family knew for sure what

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that being that tormented us was only
called the one who smiles at the macabre

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expression that always adorned his face.
My grandfather proceeded to tell me how it

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all started. When I was just
a kid. His father had taken him

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with him to a morgue, as
he worked there and had nowhere to leave

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him. And while he played carelessly
between the rooms, he met an obese

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man resting on one of the tables. The man was completely blue and on

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his arm there was a tattoo of
very strange satanic symbols. My grandfather,

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curious, touched that man' s
tattoo. It was then that the man

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turned his head toward him, showing
a mocking, demonic smile that filled him

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with terror. This account ran to
where his father was, but despite telling

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what he had seen, no one
believed him. But from that day on,

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the one who smiles became present in
my grandfather' s life, stalking

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him in the shadows or manifesting himself
in different people. Eventually, my grandfather

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learned to protect himself using amulets and
rituals, but when he had children,

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one of them inherited the curse and
this one went to my father. When

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he had his children, the first
thing he did was baptize us all,

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believing that none of us would be
affected in this way. And for many

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years everyone thought it had worked.
That was the reason they never talked to

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us about it. Now we knew
it wasn' t like that. My

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grandfather gave me some of those protective
amulets, promising me that they would help

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me keep at bay when I was
chasing us with the protective amulets. In

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my possession, I said goodbye to
my grandfather with a knot in his throat

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and a feeling of gratitude mixed with
the weight of reality he faced. Now

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I had a clearer understanding of what
was haunting me. The feeling of fear

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persisted in the depths of my being. I came home with a new determination.

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I learned to live with the constant
presence of the being that persecutes me,

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who was always vigilant in the shadows, stalking me in the most unexpected

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moments. I still saw him from
time to time I dived into my work

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and my hobbies, looking for distractions
to keep my thoughts away from the darkness

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around me there was a decision that
weighed upon me, the choice of not

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having children. I knew that the
curse that had haunted my family for generations

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could be passed on to the next
generation and I could not bear the idea

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of condemning another human being to the
same life of fear and despair that I

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had experienced. Despite everything, I
found comfort in the small moments of happiness

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and tranquility I could still find in
my life. A story written and adapted

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by Aurora. Escalante